I freeze, the papers I’ve gathered almost static in hand. ‘Oh.’
‘He deserved it.’ Her eyes narrow in reflection. ‘If he comes back tonight, it had better be with an apology.’
‘Oh,’ I repeat, not sure what to say as she turns suddenly, fingers digging into my arm.
‘He told me he’s going on holiday with his mates, to Thailand. That’s not right, is it? Not when you’re married.’ Without waiting for my response, her words fall in a hurried jumble. ‘I told him, he’d better not expect me to be here when he gets back. Told him I’d go back home.’
‘That sucks.’ It’s all I can think to say.
‘I mean, I trust him, really I do. But not the shifty gits he’s going with. I’ve heard them chatting, they think I don’t understand.No, of course not, stupid gypo wife.’ Her expression twists, tone viciously mimicking someone else. ‘Temporary marriages and whores!’ she yells.
‘You what?’
‘His mates, they go on holiday without their wives and supposedly marry some tart for a couple of days, a few weeks. Well, I’m not having it. If he thinks I’ll wait for him while he’s off... off... doing someone else. Well, I just won’t!’
Fuck a duck!What’s the appropriate response? I settle for rubbing her arm and looking seriously intense while coaxing my eyebrows from my hairline.
‘Sorry,’ she says after a moment. ‘I shouldn’t be dragging you into this.’
‘No worries. It’s best to share, get it all out. But, temporary marriage, is that even a... a thing?’
‘Yeah,’ she says with a bitter laugh. ‘Nikah misyar.A fixed termnikahor marriage.’ She returns to studying her hands.
Fixed termnikahsounds like something a bank would offer, a sort of short term deposit. On second thoughts, that isnota good analogy.
‘It’s frowned on quite a bit. Out here, I mean. Not that it stops some. It’s a way to let men—only men—get, you know.’ Her glance speaks volumes, but she finishes, anyway. ‘Their leg over a new bird. Without burning in hell. But it’s not right,’ she adds vehemently. ‘And I’m not having it!’
A fixed or short term marriage: A bit of variety? A religiously sanctioned roll in the hay? Good for the gander alone. For the goose, it’s a no-go?
Far. Out. Brussel. Sprout.
I shake my head and close my mouth.
‘I should bloody well think not. Just don’t go near him with any sharp kitchen implements tonight, okay?’ If I were her, I think I’d be seriously tempted to lop off his dick. And that certainly would be a temporary marriage, halted by a massive loss of blood.
‘Promise.’ She pauses hesitantly, a wan smile accompanies her response. ‘Thanks for listening, but . . . please don’t tell anyone what I said. Or that I swore in front of you.’
‘Hey,’ I say, offering her my hand. ‘I won’t even tell them it was my turn.’
Taking my hand, she stands, throwing her free arm around me for a quick, embarrassed hug.
‘I’m so pleased you came to work here, you know.’
‘Hello beautiful.’
Tuesday afternoon Kai calls. I’m counting down the days until his return. It’s silly that I miss him so soon, especially when I think of how different this could have turned out. If he hadn’t sought me out at school, who knows what would’ve been. Would I have turned to him? Probably.
‘Hi!’ I’m sure he can hear my smile down the line. ‘How’s Nice? Is it nice?’
‘It’s very French, as usual. Do you wish you’d come now, missing me?’
‘Oh, you know. I haven’t pined away yet. Lots of weeping and wringing of hands but I think I’ll survive until you get back.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. I’d hate to be wasting my time dreaming of all the outrageously dirty things I want to do to you, only to find you’d drowned in your own tears.’
This has me at a loss for words. I notice he saysdo to yourather thando with you. Should I be perturbed instead of thrilled?
‘Are you still there?’
