O-Negative: Extinction (17 page)

She was just finishing her lunch at her desk and was wondering about the surprising sale of a significant amount of the holding group’s stock when her mother and Aunt Manna appeared in the office.  Her mother had tears running down her face and Aunt Manna looked grimmer than she’d ever remembered.  She got up from her desk and rushed over.

“Mama what’s the matter.  What’s happened?  Why are you crying?”

Her Aunt looking towards the other staff who had got up from their desks indicated Javeira’s office and moved them into inside and shut the door behind her.  Her mother immediately wailed “they’re dead Javi they’re dead”.

“Who’s dead, what’s happened?”

Her mother burst into tears.  Her Aunt sat her sister down on the nearest chair and turned to her.  “The plane your father and Abdullah were travelling on back from Jordan has crashed in the desert.  The police are reporting no survivors”.

“Papa?  Abdullah? Dead?  No no they can’t be they can’t be I saw them two weeks ago at the wedding”.

Her Aunt looked at her and said again “They’re both dead Javi.  The police called your mother half an hour ago to ask her to come and formally identify the bodies.  There’s little doubt – they were the only passengers listed on the plane’s manifest”.

“No no nooo.  Mama mama tell me it’s not true.” She found herself crumpling to the floor her ability to hold her own body upright disintegrating in the face of her mother’s red raw face turned towards her “Oh Javi I’m so sorry I’m so sorry”.

She lost control at this point and simply wailed like she hadn’t since she was a small child.  After a few minutes her Aunt who had been hugging both her and her mother said.  “Now listen Javi you’re going to need to be really really strong here there’s more to this than meets the eye”.

She didn’t hear her Aunt to start with but slowly she brought her head up which was now fully exposed as she’d pushed her hijab back from her head during her grieving.  “What what do you mean there’s more to this than meets the eye?  The plane crashed.  It’s the will of God.”

“It may well be the will of God Javeira but don’t forget that your father had powerful enemies”.

“Powerful enemies?  I know the other families haven’t liked his rise at their expense but what do you mean?  Are you saying they had something to do with this?  Why would they do something like this?”

“Javi it’s not just about business.”

“But what else would cause them to attack Papa and Abdullah?”

“Javi I told you you’re going to need to be strong.  Have you ever thought about what the impact was of you turning down all those suitors from the other families?”

“Of course I have but I never led any of them on and made it clear exactly what I thought of them up front”.

“I know Javi I know and they might have taken all that had you married someone from another powerful family, accepting that this was just their bad luck, but don’t you see?  You married Rashid.  A man whose family are as unimportant as your own family is important.  A man from a provincial town whose own father, though highly respected, is little more than a shopkeeper.  They saw it as a slap in the face, a grievous insult.  Why do you think your father was so against your marriage to Rashid?  He knew what it would seem like to people such as the Mahfouz’s.”

“Oh Maya I never realised.  Are you saying this is all my fault” She started wailing again as the tears fell upon her already water streaked features.

Her Aunt patted her on the shoulder distractedly trying to hold back her own grief.

Only just keeping her own emotions under check she said “The plane servicing company that maintains the aircraft your father and Abdullah were on is owned by a subsidiary of the Mahfouz bank”.

Javeira found herself standing.  The tears drying on her face.  “Are you telling me the Mahfouz’s are directly behind the downing of my father’s plane?”

“I’m not sure of anything Javi but I’m suspicious, very suspicious.  Now this is why I need you to be strong.  Have there been any strange business dealings over the last few days?”

She paused and then put her hand to her mouth.  “The shares.  Someone has been selling the company’s shares”.  She turned towards her computer and reached over to refresh the stock exchange page she’d been looking at over lunch.  The share price of the Al Bajubair group had dropped by a further 10%.  Somebody was selling more shares than the market could absorb.  “The share price has dropped by 10%” she whispered.

Her Aunt didn’t look too surprised “Javi I’m going to need your help.  We can fix this but we need to act fast.  Do you have access to your father’s accounts and codes?”

“Yes yes of course I do he gave them to me ages ago.  What are you saying?”

“We need to buy your family’s stock.  A lot of it and quickly to stop the share price dropping below a level where the group becomes vulnerable to a takeover.  Probably a hostile one by the Mahfouz family and their associates.  I can help you with capital from my own resources but we need to get into the market quickly with your father’s funds.  Can you do that?  I’m so sorry to make you do this now Javi with your father and brother gone but if we don’t do this right now you’re going to lose the business.  There’s nothing we can do for them now but we still have a chance to save the business.”

She took a breath and looked over at her mother who was still sitting head bowed not appearing to hear what they were talking about.  “They might have killed my father and my brother Maya but while I’m still able to take a breath they won’t get hold of the company my father built.  Those bastards.  I’ll make them pay for this if it’s the last thing I do.  I’ll feed them to the dogs before I’m finished.”  She sat down at her computer and started opening up pages and bank account details listed on the private drive only her father and she had access to.  She waved her had towards her father’s office “Maya use father’s office.  Get Sumayya to log on to his computer and do what you can with your resources.  I’m ok for the moment. I can grieve later.  Those sons of whores haven’t got us beaten yet”.

By the time Rashid rushed into her office having heard about the death of her father and brother on the news in his office down on Prince Abdul-Aziz Street she’d done what she could.  Every scrap of the family’s available capital as well as monies she’d been able to acquire at usurious rates from the banks they did business with had been directed towards buying shares in the family holding group.  Combined with her Aunt’s not insubstantial wealth the share price had begun to stabilise and in fact was once again beginning to rise.  Her actions on the market over the last hour and a half meant that the family’s net worth had actually increased.  All at the expense of the Mahfouzs’ and their associates who had tried and failed to initiate a hostile takeover.  It was a bittersweet victory.  Her father and brother were dead and would never get to see the fruits of her labour.

As Rashid rushed round her desk to grab her in an embrace the tears started again and they didn’t stop again for a long long time.

The funerals, as was traditional, took place quickly.  The authorities had swiftly ruled out foul play.  Far too swiftly she thought but there was nothing to be gained in stretching out the process.  There was only ever going to be one outcome.  Nobody wanted it to be anything other than a tragic accident.  Thus the initial air investigation report had been rushed out stating as such.  The detailed report would follow but the investigator’s preliminary findings highlighted the relative inexperience of the pilot in flying a plane of this type and detailed the high upper atmospheric wind at the time of the crash; citing the latter as being a contributing factor to the crash.

The day of the funeral started dry and clear the sky being its normal pristine blue, broken only by the flight of the swallows shafting to and from high above.  Despite the desert surroundings there were still enough insects scratching a living from the desolate surrounding to support the swallow colonies.  For some reason this demonstration of survival under the harshest of desert conditions heartened her in some small inconsequential way. 

The waves of heat rising from the ground surrounding the burial plot caused distortions in the air like someone was flexing a piece of transparent plastic stretching from earth to heaven.  As the Imam chanted the obligatory prayers and the women of the family wailed a desert storm appeared as if from nowhere and swept in like a vengeful harridan.  The wind swirled amongst the women’s abayas causing them to reach out their black gloved hands and pull them tightly against their bodies.  The men’s thawbs twisted and turned as if they were dancing a holy dervish.  The sand that followed blew into the faces of the mourners pushing them back on their heels and causing them to lower their heads and shift their stances to protect themselves from the encroaching tempest.  The Imam’s words began to be snatched from his mouth giving the impression of his speech being stolen by the storm itself.  The substantial crowd of the great and the good began to murmur in consternation.  The previously calm and dignified Imam began to increase the speed of his recital.  Then with a last wail from the women he threw ritual offerings of earth upon the two mahogany coffins and the crowd made an almost imperceptible yet collective sigh of relief as they could not hurry back towards the long line of expensive looking Mercedes and BMWs. 

Before she got into her own vehicle she gazed back longingly at the two dark oblong holes cut into the desert.  She couldn’t hold her look for long though as the pulsating sand cut into the exposed flesh around her already red puffy eyes.  Appearing and then disappearing from the dust swirling around the graves she could see a group of Pakistani labourers moving their shovels rapidly back and forth to fill the holes where her father and brother now lay.  With a final prayer for their souls and the souls of her ancestors she opened the passenger door and got into the car.  The spiritual element of the burial ceremony was over but her hurt and grief seemed entirely unabated.

Sitting with her in the rear of the car was Rahmaniah.  They didn’t speak, instead they looked forwards out of the front windscreen.  By this time it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the car.  Salem who was driving was using the rear lights of the car in front to drive by, he and Rashid, who was sitting in the front right seat, were both leaned forwards with their noses almost pressed against the glass in an attempt to increase their field of vision.  The muted red lights seemed analogous to her own feelings, feelings which were a combination of numbness and barely concealed anger.  Anger at Almighty God for taking her father and brother from her, anger at the Mahfouz family and their associates and not least anger at herself for not foreseeing what would happen as a result of her decision to marry outside of her expected social associations.  The Mahfouz family had been at the burial in force, Mahmud and Hassan being the two most recognisable to her.  She’d barely been able to restrain herself from throwing herself at them, desiring nothing more than to tear out their throats with her bare hands.  Rashid and her mother had flanked her as they’d followed the solemn procession behind the two coffins.  Each of them had held one of her arms giving the impression of supporting her during this time of grief but in reality holding her back from doing what she really wanted to do.  Rashid turned back in his seat and she gave him a sad smile.  God he was so handsome and his inner quiet had been the rock upon which she had anchored herself over the last couple of days.  He smiled back as Rahmaniah squeezed her hand reassuringly as they waited in the line of cars. 

She was now dreading the next part of the day which would require her and her mother to entertain the hundreds of mourners who would file in and out of the family home to pay their respects.  There was no getting out of it.  As the only surviving heir she was now the head of the largest family enterprises in Jeddah and probably one of the largest in Saudi Arabia.  Of course the holding group board at the next monthly meeting would politely suggest that she might wish to pass control of the company to her father’s brother Aroom.  However even they would be loath to pass this responsibility to such a notorious wastrel who was only interested in loose women and illegally obtained whiskey.  With Rashid as her new husband at her side she doubted the board would push the issue particularly forcefully, instead recommending ‘caution’ during this difficult period.  They had as much of a vested interest as she did in keeping the company profitable and healthy.

As she thought about this the fog that had been clamping its vicelike grip around her consciousness slowly began to lift.  A semblance of clarity began to return and she realised that unconsciously everyone around her was looking to her to step up and give them the direction they needed at this time.  Much as she would have liked to have just disappeared into the deep folds of leather that her back was currently pressed into it just wasn’t in her nature to do so.  What was it her father always used to say “Never give up Javeira.  Never Surrender.  Surrender, unless it’s to Almighty God, is the antithesis to the way I expect you and Abdullah to live your lives.”  With this quote of her father’s ringing in her ears she took a deep breath.