Olives (13 page)

‘
You don’t
have to go on,’ I said, as gently as I could. ‘I’m sorry for asking
you in the first place. You know that.’

‘
No, no. It’s
actually good to talk about it.’

She reached
into her handbag, smiled up at me and dabbed at her eye with a
tissue. I felt awkward, wanted desperately to put my arms around
her and tell her it was all right. I didn’t because I come from a
cold place and the coldness was deep in me. Because I didn’t want
to betray Anne with my body as I had already betrayed her with my
mind.

Aisha’s heels
clicked as we walked. ‘He killed himself. They had strapped a bomb
to him. He was wearing a green headscarf. He left a video
dedicating his life to father and God.’

Yes, I
know
.
I watched it.
She couldn’t see me blushing in the darkness, thank
God.

Aisha wheeled
around, her face shadowed by the streetlight, her hands balled into
tight fists and her voice tight. ‘My father didn’t want his life,
Paul. And I don’t think God did either. I don’t think God wanted
the lives of the twelve Israelis on the bus with him, the lives of
the little children. But he took them all to God with
him.’

I reached out
to her and put my arm around her shoulder. I squeezed, feeling her
arm warm around my waist.

We rounded
the corner of the street to Aisha’s house.

‘
What did
Daoud do?’

‘
The
Mukhabarat
, the
secret police,
arrested Daoud
at the Jordanian border. They imprisoned him. It was two days
before Ibrahim could get to him. They beat him. Ibrahim had him
released.’

She looked up
at me defiantly
. ‘There were
no charges. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But he’s been different
since then. Quieter, more intense. More driven. He’s never told us
what happened to him in there. But Daoud is a good man,
Paul.’

We walked up
to the front door together in silence. Aisha turned to me in the
light of the doorway, her troubled eyes looking into mine. ‘I don’t
think you can ever properly understand. I don’t even think it’s
fair to expect you to.’

I shook my
head. ‘No, you might be right. I suppose I can at least try, but
it’s a different world to the one I’m from, isn’t it?’

She nodded,
her lips tight. ‘When Anne has left, after your court case, will
you come to the farm in Palestine with me? I’d like to show it to
you. You never know, it might help you understand.’ She grimaced
then smiled apologetically, ‘If you want to, I mean. I have no
right even asking you to try to understand us.’

‘
Yes,’ I
said, and in one word confirmed life after Anne. ‘Yes, I’d like
that. Thank you.’ An unwelcome thought hit me like a bucket of
freezing water, sucking the warmth and pleasure out of me. I
stuttered as I spoke, looking down at the stone steps. ‘If the
court leaves me free to, of course.’

‘
You will be
free, Paul. I know it.’

She smiled
and I wanted to kiss her for her smile, for everything behind it,
the sadness and pain in her. For her bravery and beauty. Our eyes
locked together and in that instant I saw the certainty I was
feeling mirrored in her eyes. A thrill, a delicious sensation of
falling and joy went through me as I looked down at Aisha’s
beautiful face, raised to mine. Her lips were slightly
parted.

The front
door clicked open as the porch light came on, leaving us blinking
and disoriented. The moment fled and I tried not to look guilty as
hell and failed. Daoud’s face was impassive.

‘
Hello, Paul,
nice to see you. Aisha, you’re out late.’

Aisha smiled,
a little nervously I thought, but then she was probably going
through the same as me – trying not to look guilty because we
weren’t, but knowing it hadn’t looked good when Daoud saw
us.

‘
Paul walked
me home. It’s okay.’

‘
Come in,
both of you.’

I decided to
do the decent thing and run for it. ‘No thanks, Daoud. I’d better
get going myself. I just wanted to make sure she was home
safe.’

‘
Of course.
Thanks, Paul.’ Four words and Daoud managed to make them say ‘You
lying bastard.’

I scrabbled
around for something, anything to say to him. Daoud spoke first,
‘Another time, maybe.’

I forced a
smile to my face. ‘That’d be great.’

I tipped a
finger to my forehead and had turned to leave when I heard Aisha
call out to me. ‘Paul.’

I turned
back. ‘Aish?’

‘
Thank you
for tonight. You will come to the farm, won’t you?’

‘
Yes. Yes I
will.’

Aisha pulled
the door closed behind her as she stepped down to meet me and
kissed me with a suddenness that took my breath away. She was back
in the house before I could react, leaving me with the fleeting
memory of her light, soft lips pressed on mine and her rich scent
wrapping me in its warmth.

I walked away
down the dark street, pulling my coat around me against the cold. I
wondered how I was going to get through Anne’s visit now I knew
with absolute certainty I loved someone else.

ELEVEN

Anne’s flight
landed on Saturday afternoon, halfway through the Jordanian
weekend. I’d taken the week off work, the first issue of the
magazine having gone to the printers and the Web-formatted content
alongside a neatly laid out online newsletter duly placed in the
hands of the Ministry’s digital team.

Robin didn’t
know about the extra effort I’d gone to. I saw no reason to tell
him.

Anne didn’t
have the ten Dinar visa fee I had warned her to have ready for
immigration and so she had to change money and queue again, by
which time the queue had doubled. The airline lost one of her bags
and she waited by the carousel for an hour before reporting it
missing, tracking it down just in time to walk into a bored customs
officer who spent an enjoyable half an hour rooting through her
underwear and personal effects.

By the time
she came around the corner of the partition in arrivals, red-faced
and scowling, I had spent two hours nagging the BA duty officer to
death. A wave of relief, tenderness and sheer delight washed over
me and I ran to her and scooped her up in my arms, laughing and
talking gibberish. We pushed her trolley, arm in arm, to the car
park.

Anne slept in
the car as we drove back to Amman and I took care not to wake her
until I switched off the engine outside the house. She glanced
around, disoriented. Her skin was pale and there were dark smudges
under her eyes. She put her hand on my arm, as if to steady
herself, and peered up the steps to the house above us.

‘
Is this
it?’

‘
Certainly
is. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.’

It was an
unusually warm day for autumn and Lars sat in the garden taking in
the rays with a couple of friends from work, a French guy from the
phone company and a Canadian consultant working with the Ministry
of Information and Communications Technology.

Lars got up,
grinning and held out his hand to Anne. ‘Hey, hey, hey. You must be
the famous Anne. It’s nice to meet you.’

Anne glanced
sharply at me before taking his hand. I had never mentioned Lars.
‘Sorry, Annie. This is Lars, we share the garden. He lives on the
first floor.’

Anne smiled
dutifully. ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lars.’

Lars’
expression was mock rueful. ‘Paul’s been keeping me a secret,
obviously. He’s too scared I will steal away your heart. Anyway,
I’m glad you’re here. At least now he’ll have to behave and stop
being drunk, coming home late from the clubs and keeping us
responsible citizens awake all night with his parties.’

Lars was
obviously under the impression that he was being hysterically witty
and had earned himself a sharp bark of laughter from the French
guy, but Anne wasn’t looking amused. I hefted her bags
again.

‘
Well, thanks
for the character reference, Lars, but we’re going to get Anne
settled in. Maybe we’ll catch you later.’

Lars let go
of Anne’s hand, to her obvious relief, and we went inside. Anne
frowned as we walked through the house. ‘What was all that about
clubs and parties?’

‘
It’s just
Lars’ sense of humour. He’s okay, but he can be a bit Scandinavian
sometimes. And his English can be odd.’

‘
But you said
you’d been working late all the time.’

I turned to
face her and took her hands in mine. ‘And I have. Look, this is the
bedroom.’

I opened the
door and followed her in. I had spent all morning preparing my
bower and it was a vision of terracotta, wood and white linen. I
had even put some twigs in a vase in the corner. The dappled
sunlight streamed through the French windows, splashing highlights
across the bed.

Anne barely
glanced around the room before turning to me. ‘So why would he make
so much fuss about drinking and parties?’

‘
I don’t
know, Annie. Sarcasm. Swedish humour. I don’t know.’

Anne passed
her hand over her tied-back hair, frowning at me. ‘And who is he
anyway? You’ve never mentioned anyone called Lars on the
phone.’

‘
Haven’t I? I
suppose because he’s not really very important.’

‘
He seemed to
know you pretty well.’

‘
We’ve been
out together a few times, is all.’

‘
Drinking and
going to parties.’

I let her
bags drop. ‘Why’s it such a big deal, Annie?’

She had
wandered over to the window and was looking out to the garden, her
arms crossed. I heard something bump upstairs.

‘
Anne?’

Her voice was
small and tight. ‘Oh, nothing Paul. I suppose I feel a little
disconnected and I’m very tired. Where do you want me to put my
things?’

I showed her
the cupboard and the bathroom, then went to the kitchen to get a
coffee while she freshened up. When I eventually went back to find
her she was in a dressing gown, curled up asleep on the
bed.

Later on, I
cooked dinner and we went to bed. I reached out to her but she
murmured, ‘No, not now,’ and turned away from me.

I woke late
to the sound of my phone. It was Robin telling me about an
advertisement holding up the magazine at the printers. He wanted me
to sign off the machine proofs and make sure everything was okay.
Anne went into the bathroom as I whined to him. I went to tell her
we would have to go down to the press on our way out sightseeing
but she’d locked the door. I shouted out to her but she didn’t want
to visit any printing presses, so I went alone.

I came back
three hours later, the magazine duly saved, to find Anne watching
the news. She glanced up as I walked into the living room, but
didn’t smile. She wore jeans and a white blouse, her feet tucked
under her on the sofa. I sat down beside her, stroking her
leg.

Her voice was
listless. ‘Did Lars call you? He came looking for you
earlier.’

‘
No, I’ll
call him later. Look, I’m sorry, Annie. There was nothing else I
could do, they’d screwed up the pagination and everything. It’s
done now. Come on, let’s go and see the sights of glorious
Amman.’

She shook her
head, her straight blonde hair flicked over her right shoulder.
‘It’s too late to go out, Paul. Let’s do it another
time.’

‘
Nonsense.
There’s a couple of hours at least before sunset. We can go up to
the Citadel and watch the sun over the city. Come on,
Annie.’

She turned
the television off but talked at the screen. ‘No. I said no. I
don’t want to go out now.’

I didn’t
really know where to go next. I got to my feet. ‘We could go down
to the Wild Café and watch the sunset over a drink?’

Anne smiled
tightly up at me. ‘No, no thanks.’

‘
Anne, it’s
not my fault I had to go out today. Why take it out on
me?’

She fiddled
with the remote control in her hands. ‘I’m not, Paul. I just don’t
want to go out.’

A wave of
unreasonable irritation took me, then: a hot surge of anger. I
stood over her. ‘So what the hell
do
you want to
do?’

She sat back
on the sofa, her hands gripping her arms. ‘Who is Aisha,
Paul?’

I must have
gasped. I certainly stepped back. ‘What the hell kind of question’s
that?’

‘
Who is
she?’

‘
She’s a girl
who works at the Ministry. What’s she got to do with
anything?’

‘
I just asked
you who she is, Paul. What’s the big deal?’

‘
Well, I
suppose I’m a bit confused as to why some girl at the Ministry
would come up right now when I rather thought we’d be going out
somewhere.’

‘
We’re not
going anywhere, Paul. I told you I didn’t want to go out. Why
didn’t you tell me about Aisha?’