explained.
“Come. Let’s go back to the main room upstairs.”
As they disappeared upstairs, he softly commanded Aziza in Malay. “Our visitors are going. Please bring them some soup and bid them goodbye.”
“To hell with them! I have said goodbyes to thousands already - what difference will it make today if I don’t. Anyway, I’ll do it later and in style! Give me the key, and get them out of here! Or you will regret it!” the voice chilling.
Abdul Hamat’s poise didn’t falter, but the body had stiffened. He would deal with her later. He followed the guests back into the dining room. The driver was still sitting with his head bent over the newspaper.
“Please, let me offer you some refreshments. You must taste our warm hospitality. Aziza!” Abdul Hamat called from the door.
“Please don’t bother.” Margery coloured, hastening to add “We already had a good lunch before we came,” not wanting to see the woman again.
“If you are sure!” he looked pleased.
Margery nodded her head vigorously.
“Ok then. I wonder if you don’t mind signing our visitor’s book” He held up a pen and a thick register with frayed edges, evidently having passed many hands. Abdul Hamat proudly rifled through the pages, blotted with hundreds of black and blue signatures and addresses. “You see I get visitors from all over the world and they all sign it!”
“We will do the same and with pleasure, Mr Hamat.” Robert quickly obliged with his signature and then passed the book to Margery, exchanging a knowing glance, as their host discreetly placed a small money basket full of currency notes on the table. Abdul Hamat peered over Margery’s shoulder, pleased with her comment. With the register signed, he glanced at the money basket.
“These, as you can see, are kind donations by people like yourself who visit my home.” His hand was now in the basket, “… notes from different parts of the world.” Then he felt the tissue paper come into his hand instead of banknotes. Anger shot through his wiry body - he would definitely be dealing with her today!
Margery and Robert hid a smile. From what they could see their Malay host was doing very well indeed.
Robert took out a ten pound sterling note from his wallet and placed it on top of the pile of other notes. The taxi driver smiled, inclining his head appreciatively. The host was now politely looking away – out of the window.
Then he held out his hand to them. Margery was unsure whether to shake hands with him or not. As a Muslim, he would not normally be shaking hands with a woman.
Instead she offered. “Thank you for sharing your lovely home with us. It has indeed been quite an experience!”
“My pleasure, Madam. I hope you have a safe journey back home.”
“Please thank your wife for us.” Margery added watching the host’s face with interest. Abdul Hamat politely inclined his head, smiled once again and waved them off.
“You know, Margery,” Robert began as they reached their car “I don’t know how that woman can manage in that kitchen of hers, the smoke – I can smell it from here.”
“I told you, Bob.”
They turned to the patter of feet running from behind the house. It was the woman. Ignoring them Aziza ran up the steps and stood in front of a highly embarrassed Abdul Hamat. Muttering and shaking her head at him, she shoved her hand into his trouser pocket. He grabbed her tightly by the wrist. She pulled away and ran down to the driver, speaking to him in rapid Bhasa Malay. “Please help me! I must get him out. The key- I need the key”. Mouths parted, Bob and Margery looked on.
“Key? From where?” The driver asked.
“Look!” She pointed down to the wooden platform. The driver’s eyes widened in shock.
Then Aziza rushed back to Abdul, this time managing to pull the key out of his pocket and ran into the house with the driver sprinting behind her.
“Ibrahim! Ibrahim!” Panic ridden, Aziza fumbled with the key in the
“Come. Let’s go back to the main room upstairs.”
As they disappeared upstairs, he softly commanded Aziza in Malay. “Our visitors are going. Please bring them some soup and bid them goodbye.”
“To hell with them! I have said goodbyes to thousands already - what difference will it make today if I don’t. Anyway, I’ll do it later and in style! Give me the key, and get them out of here! Or you will regret it!” the voice chilling.
Abdul Hamat’s poise didn’t falter, but the body had stiffened. He would deal with her later. He followed the guests back into the dining room. The driver was still sitting with his head bent over the newspaper.
“Please, let me offer you some refreshments. You must taste our warm hospitality. Aziza!” Abdul Hamat called from the door.
“Please don’t bother.” Margery coloured, hastening to add “We already had a good lunch before we came,” not wanting to see the woman again.
“If you are sure!” he looked pleased.
Margery nodded her head vigorously.
“Ok then. I wonder if you don’t mind signing our visitor’s book” He held up a pen and a thick register with frayed edges, evidently having passed many hands. Abdul Hamat proudly rifled through the pages, blotted with hundreds of black and blue signatures and addresses. “You see I get visitors from all over the world and they all sign it!”
“We will do the same and with pleasure, Mr Hamat.” Robert quickly obliged with his signature and then passed the book to Margery, exchanging a knowing glance, as their host discreetly placed a small money basket full of currency notes on the table. Abdul Hamat peered over Margery’s shoulder, pleased with her comment. With the register signed, he glanced at the money basket.
“These, as you can see, are kind donations by people like yourself who visit my home.” His hand was now in the basket, “… notes from different parts of the world.” Then he felt the tissue paper come into his hand instead of banknotes. Anger shot through his wiry body - he would definitely be dealing with her today!
Margery and Robert hid a smile. From what they could see their Malay host was doing very well indeed.
Robert took out a ten pound sterling note from his wallet and placed it on top of the pile of other notes. The taxi driver smiled, inclining his head appreciatively. The host was now politely looking away – out of the window.
Then he held out his hand to them. Margery was unsure whether to shake hands with him or not. As a Muslim, he would not normally be shaking hands with a woman.
Instead she offered. “Thank you for sharing your lovely home with us. It has indeed been quite an experience!”
“My pleasure, Madam. I hope you have a safe journey back home.”
“Please thank your wife for us.” Margery added watching the host’s face with interest. Abdul Hamat politely inclined his head, smiled once again and waved them off.
“You know, Margery,” Robert began as they reached their car “I don’t know how that woman can manage in that kitchen of hers, the smoke – I can smell it from here.”
“I told you, Bob.”
They turned to the patter of feet running from behind the house. It was the woman. Ignoring them Aziza ran up the steps and stood in front of a highly embarrassed Abdul Hamat. Muttering and shaking her head at him, she shoved her hand into his trouser pocket. He grabbed her tightly by the wrist. She pulled away and ran down to the driver, speaking to him in rapid Bhasa Malay. “Please help me! I must get him out. The key- I need the key”. Mouths parted, Bob and Margery looked on.
“Key? From where?” The driver asked.
“Look!” She pointed down to the wooden platform. The driver’s eyes widened in shock.
Then Aziza rushed back to Abdul, this time managing to pull the key out of his pocket and ran into the house with the driver sprinting behind her.
“Ibrahim! Ibrahim!” Panic ridden, Aziza fumbled with the key in the
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