Chapter Twenty-Seven
The dark-tinted window accentuates the smear of tiredness beneath my eyes, my reflection staring back at me, weary and morose.
The intercom had sounded as normal this morning, alerting me to the arrival of my cab. Only, on reaching the door of the building, Kai’s high-end Mercedes was parked in its place. For one mad moment, my heart swelled. Fleeting glimpses of his taking me in his arms, images disappearing in an instant as Rashid stepped from the car.
‘Mr Khalfan’s instructions,’ he’d said quietly, opening the rear passenger door. ‘I’ve cancelled your cab, madam. I am to be at your service until his return.’
‘How kind.’ The words sounded more like a retort, my heart aching at the mention of his name. Nonetheless, I’d slid inside.
As always, I have to clock-in at school but this morning I take exception. This is supposed to be a place of learning, not a place of keeping tabs. Arab time may be pretty relaxed, but we’re all grownups here, responsible for children as well as ourselves. It’s not even a digital clock but a huge metal monstrosity, a primitive machine branding cards and sometimes fingers. It does so today, the icing on my black day.
Huda’s head doesn’t rise as I walk by her open office door, even the usually affable Baby avoids my eye. I don’t have time to wonder why as Arwa calls me into her room.
‘Please sit down.’ She gestures me to the chair opposite hers, her massive desk in between.
My words are delivered with a half-held breath. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘Perhaps you can answer that better than I.’
I make a gesture of bewilderment as the air-conditioning turns over, a susurrus of air moving wisps of her untucked hair. She slides both hands around her face, tucking away the stray curls with a sigh.
‘I don’t wish to pry but try to understand my position, if you will. I have a school full of impressionable young girls and parents to placate.’ My eyes find hers wary as she inhales a deep breath, straightening in her chair. ‘It has been brought to my attention that you have arrived at school several times in a car, in fact, several different cars. Now, what you do outside of school hours is none of my business, but this school and its teachers, as guardians, have a reputation to uphold.’
I almost want to laugh, my eyebrows taking up residence in my hairline. ‘I’m not allowed to travel to school in multiple cars? Most of those cars are taxis by the way...’ My words trail off as I realise where this is going. ‘But we’re not talking about taxis, are we?’
Her hands open for a brief moment, as though holding an invisible book. ‘Let’s be frank. Kais Al Khalfan is responsible for your transport to school. His cars have very distinctive number plates, it’s hard not to notice. The higher a person’s stature, the smaller and more memorable the plate, it seems. This... relationship is a terrible idea. I’m sorry, but I can’t say more than that.’
In the absence of knowing how I should react, I ask, ‘Is this anofficial warning?’
She shakes her head but doesn’t speak, relying on an eloquent look instead.
‘Then I have nothing to say beyond I agree. You shouldn’t pry.’
I’m rising with the desire of appearing an island of dignity and calm, until I inadvertently hook the handle of my purse around the arm of the chair. Its contents careen through the air; diary, phone, loose change and a neon-pink feather-topped pen scatter across her desk.
Arwa stands quite suddenly, laying her hand over mine as I lean across the desk, scrambling to gather my stuff. ‘It’s not just the school I’m concerned about, my dear.’
Turning over my hand, she folds the filigree nipple clamp into my fingers.
