Ordinarily, I would have leapt at the opportunity to enjoy Dina’s amazing cooking skills and company, but something inside me felt reluctant. It had been too long. So long, in fact, that I no longer knew what to say to her and how to act around her.
‘Go,’ Lucy said encouragingly when the entire morning had passed and I still hadn’t responded. It was lunchtime and we had popped outside so I could get some fresh-ish air and Lucy could vape. ‘You guys have been friends for far too long. She’s made a move and reached out to you. Ignoring her is dishonouring your friendship.’
Deep down, I knew that Lucy was right. Pushing aside my fears, I texted back and then ignored the queasiness I felt the rest of the day.
It was freezing when I left the office for Dina’s house and I wrapped my coat and scarf tighter around me as I walked to the station and then proceeded to take them off the moment I went underground because it was so warm. I swear, it’s the drastic changes in temperature that make me snotty all winter.
As always, as soon as I got on the carriage, I did a quick look around to see if Noah was there. He wasn’t, of course. He never was. The chance of him getting on the train at the exact same time and in the exact same carriage as me was about the same odds as me winning the lottery. And I didn’t even play it, because gambling is haram in Islam. But still, I lived in hope.
‘Maya! Omigod, I’ve missed you so much,’ Dina exclaimed as she threw open her front door. ‘How is it that we only live a few Tube stops away from each other, but I never get to see you?’
Err, because you decided I was too boring for you and you’re too busy with your own fulfilled life?
I didn’t say this. Of course I didn’t.
‘Err, because you’re too busy being super-mum and superwoman, that’s why,’ I replied a little stiffly, giving her a half-hearted hug back. I moved to pull away, but she drew me in closer and squeezed tighter.
‘I’m sorry for being AWOL lately. I really am,’ she said when she eventually pulled away and I felt my anger and disappointment begin to thaw.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said quietly. There was a pause for a moment and then Dina smiled and switched the pace before it became too maudlin or uncomfortable. She had always been good at doing that.
‘Come in,’ she said, pulling me into the house and closing the front door firmly behind me. ‘I was just getting Sami ready for bed.’
Dina continued to chatter as I took my boots, coat, scarf and cardigan off, hanging it all on the end of the banister before following her upstairs.
‘Maya! Where have you been?’ Mohammed greeted me, coming out of the living room in a white shirt and PJ bottoms.
‘Salaams, Mo, it’s been a minute. What are you wearing?’
‘Don’t ask,’ he laughed. ‘I started changing and then forgot. I’ve been on call for a week, my brain is wrecked.’
‘Sami! Look who’s here!’ Dina called out and a second later a mini-Dina, complete with wild, curly brown hair and green eyes, came bounding out of one of the three bedrooms. Two-year-old Sami babbled something to me, in what language I had no idea, but Dina seemed to understand everything he said.
‘Hi, Sami,’ I said, scooping him into my arms and giving his chubby body a squeeze. ‘Look, I have a present for you.’ Putting him down and reaching into my tote, I pulled out the picture book I had bought for him on my way to the station. ‘And this is for you, Deens.’ I handed Dina a big box of Hotel Chocolat truffles.
‘My fave! Thank you. Mind putting him to bed?’
‘Sure. Will he let me? It’s been a while.’
‘He’ll let anyone with a book. Thanks, hun. Switch on his night light when you’re done, please and close the door otherwise he’ll keep coming out of his room.’
Sami took me by the hand and led me to his colourful bedroom, stuffed with more books and toys than I had ever seen belonging to one child. Climbing onto his bed, he pointed to his book and I took that as an invitation to read it to him. Sitting next to him on the PAW Patrol bed covers, I opened the book and began to read it in my best actress voice, choosing different voices for the various characters. Sami didn’t say a word but giggled and snuggled closer to me. He was so soft and warm and when the book was finished and I tried to put it away, he pointed at it again. And again. After the fifth read, he yawned and with a smile, I kissed the top of his head, which smelt like soap and berries and tucked him into bed before switching on his night light and turning the main light off.
Closing the bedroom door quietly behind me, I headed back downstairs. I could smell something delicious bubbling away on the stove and over the noise of the extractor fan and the TV playing in the lounge, I could hear Dina and Mohammed’s laughter. I walked into the tiny kitchen to find the two of them squabbling about what herbs to add to the stew they were in the middle of cooking and I took a moment to observe the scene in front of me. Dina was smiling, Mohammed was rolling his eyes and there were jars of spices, discarded onion peel, little toy cars and plastic beakers all over the counter. The fridge was covered in magnets, photographs and Sami’s ‘art’, but instead of seeing mess and chaos, I saw love. I saw comfort. I saw a family.
Maybe this was the whole point of marriage? To create a family; a club that only you belonged to, with its own schedules, own jokes, own values and goals. Maybe I had been short-sighted for not considering marriage to be an option until now? I kept thinking I had more time – there was no rush – but look at Dina. She met Mohammed at uni and she knew within a month of meeting him that she would marry him. It wasn’t as simple as that, though. He was doing medicine and didn’t want to get married until after he had qualified. She waited for years, growing weary and doubtful of his intentions. She thought he was keeping her hanging and that the reason he wouldn’t put a ring on it was because his mum wasn’t happy for him to marry outside of his culture. She was wrong on every count. He told his family as soon as he finished his final exam and they immediately came over with a formal proposal for Dina. His mum instantly fell in love with her – it’s hard not to – and now look at them. Happily married for four years, careers, a property and offspring that was about to double.
‘Tell me what’s going on with you,’ Dina asked over a gorgeous dinner of a tender lamb and aubergine stew, buttery vermicelli rice and a sweet and tangy fattoush salad topped with crispy flatbread.
‘I don’t know where to start,’ I sighed, enjoying another mouthful of the stew, the lamb falling apart in my mouth.
‘The beginning?’ Mohammed suggested. ‘I can’t deal with stories that start in the middle.’
‘Same,’ Dina agreed.
Sighing, I took a sip of laban – a salty and refreshing yoghurt drink – and started from the beginning like I was asked.
‘This is all so romantic,’ Dina gushed as though hearing the story for the first time.
‘Romantic? It’s creepy. Ignoring people on the Tube is an unwritten rule,’ Mohammed replied, unimpressed. ‘I’m not sure I like the sound of this player.’
When I moved on to tell them about the list, Dina almost leapt out of her chair in excitement.
‘I LOVE that! What an amazing idea. And the best part is, you might run into him again!’
Mohammed scoffed at this. ‘It’s cool you’re trying new things, but please don’t do it for the sake of a stranger playboy. It has to be for you.’
‘It is for me,’ I reassured him. ‘It’s getting me out of the house and trying things I never dreamed of. Can you believe I read the whole of Ulysses? It was over a thousand pages long!’
‘And you’ve taken up running,’ Dina said wistfully. ‘I’ve always wanted to be able to run.’
‘Why don’t you then?’ Mohammed added, unhelpfully. ‘What’s stopping you?’
