chunk right in the middle.'
`Turkey?'
`No, the Levant.'
He was toying with his pint; he did not know where to put it, aware of his friends looking at him. Faithful to the script he said, `Why did you leave your country?'
My belongings, which I was frenziedly packing, were: a reed pipe, cloth sanitary towels, a brown comb with a few of the teeth missing, a Qur'an, a black madraqa, my mother's shawl, a spoon, a toothbrush which I was taught how to use in prison, a plastic cup, a grey towel, the lipstick that Madam Lamaa had given me, the two mother-of-pearl combs and bottle of perfume that Noura had given me as a present. I put the amulet - my mother's letter and the soft shiny lock of hair - on top of the pile and tied the bundle tight.
`Why did I leave? I wanted to explore, I suppose.'
He sipped some beer, not knowing whether to call it a night or to continue chatting up this foreign woman. `Have you been living here long?'
`Yes,' I said, pulling my skirt down.
`Do you like it here?'
`Yes. It's fine.'
`Do you have a family back home?'
`Yes. I have a family.' A mother, a father, a brother and ... and some friends.
`Do you miss them?'
`Yes' He was trying hard to engage me into conversation. I never swallow bait. I take a long time to savour it, chew it, then spit it out before the hook tears right through my tongue. I had a sip of the cold tart blood in my glass then asked, `What about you?'
`I live in Exeter. I have my own health-food shop.'
`Where do you come from originally?'
`I was born in Lincoln, but my family have been living in Lyme Regis for years. My father was a fisherman.'
Someone opened the door to leave and a sudden gush of cold air hit me. I knew that air. I sat there on the stool shivering and trying to stop my hand from pulling my skirt down. I put both hands underneath me and pressed hard while listening to the faint sound of running water, the clinking of glasses and the distant barking of dogs.
A hesitant knock on the prison's door told me that it was twelve o'clock: time to leave. The inmates were asleep. I looked at their faces, at the cold floor, the stained wall, the bunk beds, which were brought in a few months ago to replace the rubber mattresses, then I turned round, ready to walk out. If Noura had still been there, it would have been difficult to say goodbye. Holding the bundle that contained all my possessions, I walked quietly behind Naima. My eyes were following the floor of the corridor I must have mopped hundreds of times. The walls were covered with marks counting days. Tonight I added to the maze of my scratches a final one with a dot underneath. `What is this?"It is an exclamation mark,' we repeated after Miss Nailah. To my surprise Naima hugged me and her usually angry face was covered with tears.
I composed myself and said, `Thank you and goodbye.'
Officer Salim hurried me through the gate saying, `May God guard you and protect you.,
I whispered a thank you and jumped into the waiting car next to Khairiyya who took off instantly. The prison building disappeared in seconds. I could just make out the dark figures of Salim and Naima waving goodbye.
Khairiyya was concentrating on her driving. `We don't want you to get shot by your brother.'
Looking at the dark winding road and the distant stars, which I had not seen for eight years, I whispered, `No'
`Please call me Jim,' said the ponytailed English man.
`Jim, would you like a drink?'
`I'll get it.'
`No, I will.'
`All right, double Scotch, please.'
Only nine o'clock and he was going for the double Scotch, I thought, and dug deep into my purse.
`Shall we sit by the fire?'
`Yes'
We made our way towards the fireplace where you could hear the hissing sound of gas in pipes.You saw the glowing logs, the bright, flickering flames and you realized that, like the rainbow I had seen this morning, it was fake, a trick of the eye. I sat on the leather sofa and sighed. It was much better for my tired back. Looking at Jim's
`Turkey?'
`No, the Levant.'
He was toying with his pint; he did not know where to put it, aware of his friends looking at him. Faithful to the script he said, `Why did you leave your country?'
My belongings, which I was frenziedly packing, were: a reed pipe, cloth sanitary towels, a brown comb with a few of the teeth missing, a Qur'an, a black madraqa, my mother's shawl, a spoon, a toothbrush which I was taught how to use in prison, a plastic cup, a grey towel, the lipstick that Madam Lamaa had given me, the two mother-of-pearl combs and bottle of perfume that Noura had given me as a present. I put the amulet - my mother's letter and the soft shiny lock of hair - on top of the pile and tied the bundle tight.
`Why did I leave? I wanted to explore, I suppose.'
He sipped some beer, not knowing whether to call it a night or to continue chatting up this foreign woman. `Have you been living here long?'
`Yes,' I said, pulling my skirt down.
`Do you like it here?'
`Yes. It's fine.'
`Do you have a family back home?'
`Yes. I have a family.' A mother, a father, a brother and ... and some friends.
`Do you miss them?'
`Yes' He was trying hard to engage me into conversation. I never swallow bait. I take a long time to savour it, chew it, then spit it out before the hook tears right through my tongue. I had a sip of the cold tart blood in my glass then asked, `What about you?'
`I live in Exeter. I have my own health-food shop.'
`Where do you come from originally?'
`I was born in Lincoln, but my family have been living in Lyme Regis for years. My father was a fisherman.'
Someone opened the door to leave and a sudden gush of cold air hit me. I knew that air. I sat there on the stool shivering and trying to stop my hand from pulling my skirt down. I put both hands underneath me and pressed hard while listening to the faint sound of running water, the clinking of glasses and the distant barking of dogs.
A hesitant knock on the prison's door told me that it was twelve o'clock: time to leave. The inmates were asleep. I looked at their faces, at the cold floor, the stained wall, the bunk beds, which were brought in a few months ago to replace the rubber mattresses, then I turned round, ready to walk out. If Noura had still been there, it would have been difficult to say goodbye. Holding the bundle that contained all my possessions, I walked quietly behind Naima. My eyes were following the floor of the corridor I must have mopped hundreds of times. The walls were covered with marks counting days. Tonight I added to the maze of my scratches a final one with a dot underneath. `What is this?"It is an exclamation mark,' we repeated after Miss Nailah. To my surprise Naima hugged me and her usually angry face was covered with tears.
I composed myself and said, `Thank you and goodbye.'
Officer Salim hurried me through the gate saying, `May God guard you and protect you.,
I whispered a thank you and jumped into the waiting car next to Khairiyya who took off instantly. The prison building disappeared in seconds. I could just make out the dark figures of Salim and Naima waving goodbye.
Khairiyya was concentrating on her driving. `We don't want you to get shot by your brother.'
Looking at the dark winding road and the distant stars, which I had not seen for eight years, I whispered, `No'
`Please call me Jim,' said the ponytailed English man.
`Jim, would you like a drink?'
`I'll get it.'
`No, I will.'
`All right, double Scotch, please.'
Only nine o'clock and he was going for the double Scotch, I thought, and dug deep into my purse.
`Shall we sit by the fire?'
`Yes'
We made our way towards the fireplace where you could hear the hissing sound of gas in pipes.You saw the glowing logs, the bright, flickering flames and you realized that, like the rainbow I had seen this morning, it was fake, a trick of the eye. I sat on the leather sofa and sighed. It was much better for my tired back. Looking at Jim's
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