#Chapter Three#

I internally groaned. Of course, there had to be people in this room. It couldn’t very well have been, oh I don’t know, empty. 

It wouldn’t be a common day in my life if I didn’t somehow humiliate myself. It was a part of my routine now. 

Wake up, get grilled by uni, get grilled by Mr Ridwan, eat, humiliate myself, then slowly cry myself to sleep. OK so it’s possible I’m exaggerating, but honestly, why did these things happen to me so often?

“Are you OK?” Mystery Man asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked at the other two people in the room - a man who was seated in one of the beds, a small smile playing across his lips and the other his wife, who stood to the side, glaring me down. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, getting impatient with the whole situation. She wasn’t even the sick one here!

“Erm,” I started, my eyes jumping between the three and eventually landing on a still, very amused Mystery Man. “Sorry, but there’s a slight issue…outside.” I pointed my thumb backwards, at the door, but then realised that didn’t really explain why I had barged in here like an animal. 

“I don’t see how that relates to us,” she sneered, only getting angrier by the second. 

Before I could say anything, Mystery Man spoke up. “Please mam, calm down. This is my, um, friend,” he stumbled, before continuing. “Sorry for the intrusion.” He then continued the conversation with them in hushed whispers. I assumed he was carrying on from before I arrived unannounced and aware that it was supposed to be confidential, so I occupied myself by looking out the window for any paps every few seconds.

“The one time I tell Salem to stay behind, this happens,” I muttered angrily. I’m sure I looked like a lifesaver, sitting in one of those booths, binoculars in hand and staring down at the people in the water. 

“Is it a frequent habit of yours to talk to yourself Miss Ahmad?” I jumped at the sound of someones voice so close to me, bringing the whole blind up with the gesture of my hand. 

“No,” I responded sheepishly, before clearing my throat. “No, it’s not.” I thought I saw his eyebrows lift in mirth, but I was too busy looking away, embarrassed beyond belief at this point. 

“Well, is there something I can help you with?” he questioned with some slight concern. So chivalry still does exist. 

“Well, I don’t particularly see how you can help me with a pack of vicious journalists, who won’t give up without an arm and leg,” I joked. Mystery Man chuckled but remained quiet. “But you should get back to work,” I commented, looking past him at the couple who were now talking amongst each other quietly. “I don’t want to disturb you anymore. I’ll just um…hide in the corner here for a while.” Unfortunately, I had left my phone and bag with Sarah, so I couldn’t even ring anyone to assist me.

“Do you mind?” He asked, signalling towards the door. I shook my head and moved out of the way, curious as to what he was doing. He unlocked it and slightly opened the door to scour the area outside. “Looks like it’s clear,” he observed, before closing the door again. “But just to be safe - here.” Bewildered, yet pleasantly surprised, I watched as he took off his doctors coat and held it out to me. I hesitated - was it really appropriate for me to take it? Then again, I was desperate.

And, I really, really, needed to go bathroom.

I could just return it to him after I used it to escape. 

I realised that all my thought processes were taking too long, so I reluctantly pulled the coat from his hands. “JazakAllahu khair. I will return this to you.” 

“It’s no problem. I’ve got about another three in my locker.” I smiled and then swiftly slipped the coat on, trying hard to ignore how good he smelt. I mean, how good the coat smelt. Jeez.

I sidled up to the door and opened it fully. The coast was still clear and I was just about ready to bolt. I turned back around one last time. “Thanks Myste-,” I quickly stopped short, my eyes widening at what I was just about to say. “Err, thank you, again. I really do appreciate it.” Mystery Man looked confused at my stumble for a few moments whereafter he just nodded. 

“Take care of yourself Sameena,” were the last words I heard from him, before I dashed down the hallway back to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but wonder why his tone sounded so wistful as I left.

####

“So, how’s everything holding up baba?” He finished spooning some mashed potatoes into Abir’s mouth, who was happily perched on his lap, and looked up at me with a smile.

“Everything is fine habibti. But, as always, I strive for the best,” he said, beaming up at me. 

“You work too hard,” Sarah added, shuffling some rice onto her spoon. 

“I agree,” Ziad said.

Baba sighed tiredly and shook his head at us. “Someone needs to ensure that the economy remains stable, that people are fed, clothed and sheltered, that taxes remain low and people are kept safe. Do you think it’s an easy job?” 

“Of course it isn’t. However, it’s OK to take a night off and forget about the fact that you’re Prime Minister once in a while,” Sarah continued. Sarah loved and cared for baba, like he was her own dad and he had treated her no different than I. I knew this made Ziad extremely happy. He had even voiced to me once about how well he thought she’d get along with mum and I knew he would have loved for Sarah to meet her. 

“I’m touched by your concern, but you must not worry. I’ve been doing this for years. Working from day till night is a must - if I do anything less I feel like the country might crumble between my fingers.” He spooned another mouthful of mashed potatoes into Abir’s awaiting mouth and she squealed, specks of potato flying out of her mouth and onto baba’s top. 

He chuckled and bounced her lightly on his knee, before coming down for a kiss on her cheek. I loved seeing him in grandfather mode - it was the side of him only we got to see here at home. 

“You burden yourself too much.” 

“Maybe,” he trailed off, clearly wanting to end the conversation. I veered the subject into Politics - me and baba were constantly bickering and debating over dinner on a subject we mutually loved. We were talking about exchange rates, when Sarah interrupted us.

“Sameena, you were just telling your father he stresses too much and now you’re continuing the topic of which his daily work revolves around!” 

“Sorry,” I apologised sheepishly. 

“Hey, hey, just admit it. You hate anything to do with Politics and that’s why you always rush to end their discussion,” Ziad piped in, staring at Sarah pointedly. 

“Well, there are more interesting things we can talk about,” she was quick to reply.

“Like what? Hair and makeup?” he jeered, laughing at his own joke. 

“Excuse me? Do I look that shallow to you?” Sarah countered, clearly angered by his remark.

“Oh come on, you know I was only kidding,” he said, staring at her incredulously. Let’s just say, that even after giving birth, Sarah was still a little hormonal. 

“Mhmm, sure.” She slid her chair back violently, and began to hurriedly pile the plates on top of one another. 

“I’m not done!” he whined when she took his plate away from him. 

“You are now,” she quipped. 

She sauntered off towards the kitchen whilst me and baba tried not to convulse with laughter. “Oh Ziad…you always make the same mistakes.” 

“Shutup,” he grumbled, getting up and walking off in the same direction as Sarah. 

We burst out laughing as he retreated and even Abir squealed in excitement. “I remember after your mother gave birth to Samir, she was ten times worse,” baba said, a nostalgic look in his eyes. “I couldn’t even hug her without getting told off.” 

We both sat in silence for a while, reminiscing on the days of old. 

“I miss Samir,” I told baba. It had been nearly four months since I had seen my older brother.

“He said he should be coming for a visit in two months, once his semester finishes.” 

“Two months, too long,” I moaned. 

“Well,” baba got up, hauling Abir onto his shoulders as he went. “That’s what happens when only one uni offers your course. You have to travel. Just be grateful he’s still in Palestine. Others around the world have to travel abroad to study.” I nodded my head in agreement with my father. 

One of the areas that he had worked on since becoming Prime Minister, was making sure the education system was top notch. There were a few flaws here and there but it was much better than what it was.

I cleared away the rest of the plates, before retiring to my room. It had been a long day and I wanted a hot shower, more than anything. Once I came out, I prayed isha, the night prayer, and slipped under the duvet. As expected, I had at least three missed calls from Mira and I instantly called her back. 

“Well, well, look who’s too busy to call or respond to her best friend,” she chirped into the phone. Mira was probably the most eccentric person you could come across. It was her unconventional ways - with all her tie dyed hijabs, witty remarks and dedication towards anything she was passionate about - that quirked my interest in her. Her happiness and positive outlook on life was contagious; heck, she had managed to bring me out of some of my worst states in the past few years we had known each other. She was an unstoppable force…and you couldn’t help but love her. 

“I’m sorry,” I groaned. “It was just a crazy day today. We just got home from the hospital not too long ago.” 

“I know,” she said. “There’s a picture of you running away from the paps on the front page of nearly every magazine and newspaper.” 

I sat up quickly. “Are you joking?” 

“Nope. Check the image I just sent you.” I moved the phone off my ear momentarily to check the attachment she sent. 

“Oh…this is bad.” The image was of me running with my skirt billowing behind me and my face twisted backwards, scowling at the paps. It was a very unattractive photo, to say the least. 

“Girl, I know. You need to work on your ‘escape’ pose.” 

“My ‘escape’ pose?” I repeated with a frown. 

“Look, you’re naturally beautiful, but the paps bring out the worst in you. How have you not learnt to train your facial muscles, so that whenever they’re around, you can pose appropriately?” 

I threw my head back and laughed at her comment. This girl was just something else. “Gosh, I love you Mina.”

“Mhmm. Everyone does.”

####

Definitions: 

JazakAllahu khair: 'May Allah SWT reward you'

Baba: 'Dad'

Habibti: ‘My love’

Hijab: Scarf/Veil

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