‘I will, Ma, don’t worry.’
‘And what’s this about your brother and that shada girl? Do I need to be worried about that?’
I shrugged and reached for a handful of popcorn. ‘You need to talk to Malik about that. He barely tells me anything. I found out by chance.’
After a moment, Ma continued to play the episode and I exhaled in relief, thankful that the awkward conversation was over.
What I had told my mum was true though. I wasn’t doing anything overtly haram. Not the sort of thing she was worried about anyway. Noah texted me consistently throughout the day, as he did most days. He had followed me on Insta and Snap and we had been exchanging reels and memes for the better part of the day. I sent him pictures of what we were cooking and he responded with a picture of his own meal. It looked very much like the three-course meal he had learnt to make recently – I doubted he happened to cook it that day. I obviously couldn’t call him out on sending me an old picture, so I showered him with praise instead, feeling both tickled and guilty as I did so.
We hadn’t put a label on what we were to each other, but with all the ‘x’s’ that punctuated our messages and the increasingly endearing sentiments, it was clear that we were more than friends. Every time my phone buzzed, I felt a jolt of excitement shoot through me and eagerly checked for Noah’s message. If it wasn’t him, I’d feel a little deflated. I replied immediately to his texts, contrary to everything I had learnt about reeling a man in from popular culture and he did the same. We were fast becoming firm fixtures in each other’s phones, although it hadn’t quite translated to offline life yet.
‘Why are you grinning?’ Ma suddenly looked away from the dramatic scene of a woman running away from her evil husband on the telly, as I read Noah’s latest text:
NOAH: I miss you. Desperately need to see you. Free tonight?
‘I’m not,’ I lied, wiping the grin off my face so quickly it was like someone had poured cold water over my head. When Ma went back to watching the rest of the show, I snuck my phone out and replied:
MAYA: Miss you too. And I’ll make myself free for you x.
At around five in the afternoon, Ma went upstairs to rest so after I cleaned up all the mess we had made that day, I took out Noah’s list. There weren’t many items left to complete and the thought of going through life without this bit of guidance and direction made me anxious. I made a mental note to raise this during my next session with Fareena:
26. VISIT UNCLE F IN LIVERPOOL, MAKE AMENDS.
That was it. No notes. This must have been where Noah had got to when we met that day on the Tube, or maybe he hadn’t had a chance to update it, or it was still in progress. Although I wondered who Uncle F was and why they needed to make amends, I was relieved that there were no further details and that I had reached the end of his notes. I already felt bad that I knew so much about his personal life, things he would never have shared with me at this stage in our relationship.
It was pretty obvious how I would have to tailor this to suit my life. I would have to make amends with Malik and Lucy. How and when, I wasn’t sure, but I knew it had to be done.
Chapter Thirty-Five
That night, I met up with Noah, feeling nervous and shy as if we were meeting for the first time. The all-day-and-all-night texting had brought us closer, but now that I was going to see him in the flesh, I suddenly felt embarrassed about the flirting and little innuendos that our messages had evolved into.
Noah suggested that we go for a walk and although ‘walking’ wasn’t my idea of a perfect date (isn’t walking what you did to get to the actual date?), I feigned enthusiasm and agreed to meet him at Alexandra Palace. The weather was nice at least and sunset wasn’t until nine, so maybe he wanted to make the most of the sunshine.
‘Maya, over here,’ Noah called out as I approached him standing outside the palace, which stood at the top of a hill overlooking London as night began to fall. The evening was clearer than usual. Without London smog blurring the view, the twinkling lights of the city competed with the stars above us.
‘Hey, Noah,’ I replied, my hands suddenly feeling clammy. How was I supposed to act after he texted me that he ‘desperately’ wanted to see me? I didn’t look my best following my three-day stint in bed and accompanying diet of sugary cereal, but he didn’t seem to notice. He smiled broadly at me, not only with his sexy mouth but with those beautiful green-grey eyes travelling down my body as though I were in a ballgown, not a floral maxi-skirt and a plain white T-shirt.
‘Come here,’ he whispered, taking my hands and pulling me closer to him. For a second, I froze. What was he going to do? I couldn’t let him kiss me, not unless we were engaged to be married, at least. We weren’t even close to getting engaged. I didn’t know what we were, besides texting buddies. I couldn’t let some random man kiss me without the promise of a future! Kissing, or any physical contact, isn’t permitted Islamically during the engagement period either by the way and the thought of starting a future with someone in a way that wasn’t blessed didn’t feel right to me.
Noah seemed to sense my panic and released my hands. I let out a sigh of relief and he placed an arm around my shoulder instead, drawing me closer and resting his head on top of mine. The bare skin of his arm brushed against mine, causing all the little hairs on my body to rise in delicious anticipation. He smelt like detergent and aftershave mixed together, a combination I never knew could be so alluring.
We stood there for a while, me nestled into him, staring out at London spread before us, talking about the things we wanted to do for the rest of the summer and beyond, until he suggested that we walk around Alexandra Park. I reluctantly moved away, instantly feeling his absence. But then he took my hand in his and we walked around the grounds of the park together like a real couple. Walking, I realised, was a pretty good date activity after all.
‘What else have you been up to?’ he asked as we strolled hand in hand. ‘Apart from cooking amazing food?’
‘I’ve been spending a lot of time with my mum lately,’ I said, wondering how much detail I should go into. We hadn’t had any deep conversations yet and I wasn’t sure if our relationship had reached that level.
Noah didn’t probe further and instead began filling me in on his week, which was full of exercise and sounded exhausting.
‘I’ve been swimming outdoors in Hampstead a lot,’ he said. ‘You should try it. It’s amazing.’
‘Actually, I have,’ I revealed. ‘I did it back in April.’
‘April?’ Noah stopped in his tracks. ‘It must have been cold!’
‘It was,’ I shrugged casually, as though it had been easy. ‘But that made it even better, you know?’
‘You’re something else,’ Noah breathed almost reverently, stopping to gaze into my eyes. ‘You’re perfect, in every way. I can’t believe I found you on an app. I’ve never had this much in common with anyone before. It’s unreal.’
‘Thanks,’ I said weakly, breaking eye contact. ‘You’re amazing too. I, err, also can’t believe how similar we are.’
We continued to stroll and it was while we were heading back to the car and Noah was telling me yet another story about one of his clients that I spotted Zakariya climbing out of his Mercedes. Gripped with panic, I immediately dropped Noah’s hand, although he was so engrossed in what he was saying that I didn’t think he noticed. What the hell was Zak doing here?
A moment later, he saw me too and our eyes locked. An expression of shock flew across his face as he observed Noah, who continued walking towards his car, utterly oblivious to what was going on around him. Zak looked good, really good, in a form-fitting black T-shirt and jeans. I had never seen him in a T-shirt before and his bare arms were toned but not as muscular as Noah’s. My heart pounded as I wondered what I should do, how I should react. Was I supposed to go over and speak to him? What was the protocol in this situation? How would I possibly be able to introduce them to each other?
Before I could figure it out, Zakariya made the decision for me. He waved his hand in a brief hello – turning away from me in a gesture that implied he didn’t want to stop and talk – and went over to open the passenger door instead. A second later, as Noah and I walked past his car, a stunning girl in a hijab climbed out, smiling up at him. Zakariya’s back was to me so I couldn’t see his expression, but I could imagine the sort of look he was giving her. And inside me, my heart constricted painfully. His not stopping to say hello wasn’t because I was with a man, it was because he was with a woman.
