A Desert Rose

Chapter 18 - The Homecoming

Zahir was standing in his office looking out over the city.  In particular he was watching the planes taking off in the distance.  Soon Aimee would be on a plane like that.  The severity of the pain that stabbed his heart was unexpected, but he could not turn away from the sight. 

Not yet anyway. Besides, once he turned away he had to deal with this Basma business.

A knock at the door pulled his attention from the window at last.

“Come!” He snapped.

Much to his surprise it was Asim that entered his office.

“Brother, this is an unexpected pleasure.”  Zahir said as he embraced his brother.

“Zahir, I heard you’ve had an interesting couple of days.  I had to come,” Asim laughed.

“Interesting doesn’t begin to cover it,” Zahir said sullenly. 

Asim sobered quickly and took his arm.  “Then come, let us discuss it over lunch.”  He said as he steered them towards the door once more.

*****

Leaving the palace and travelling through the city Aimee stared out of the car-window as the desert raced past.  The shape of a dune in the distance reminded her of the night they made love in the tents.  The blue of a car pulling in front of them reminded her of the mosaic at the pool.  It was good she was leaving; too many memories were rooted here. 

For most of the journey from the palace she had been in a daze.  At the airport she automatically searched the face of every man; hoped to recognise Zahir’s familiar smile.  Perhaps he would have the flight grounded like he threatened the first time.  Demand she de-plane and take her home with him. 

The plane took off without incident and before long she was staring out of the plane-window as they circled Heathrow.  Aimee had been lost in her little fantasy so deeply that it was quite a shock seeing the familiar towers in the distance. 

She had only been away for a few months and yet it felt like she was returning after years away.  She expected everything to be different and in a way it was, and yet it was not.

I’m the one that’s different…

After they had landed and were waiting in line at immigration a thought occurred to her.

“Where did you get my passport?”  She asked her father.  He had produced it at the airport without a word but Zahir said he would send it to her.

“It arrived while you were packing.”  He answered her.

Oh of course.

As Marc unlocked the door of her apartment Aimee entered and surveyed the familiar surroundings.  Everything was exactly as she left it.  It felt cold and musty so she opened all the windows.  Aimee missed the sweet warm air of the palace. 

Her dad and Marc stayed for a cup of tea and then finally left her to gather her bearings with promises of dinner at the pub down the street.

Finally alone Aimee just sat and wept.

*****

Three weeks passed and slowly Aimee regained her former routine.  She was up at dawn and went for a run through the park.  Winter had not been kind and the sky was as grey as the concrete she pounded.  Breakfast was a slice of toast and scrambled egg with a cup of tea before she took the tube to work.  It was stuffy and filled with snivelling commuters racing past her on the escalators. 

The university was her solitude, her escape from the depressing city.  She stayed there until dark, working on the translations and piecing pieces of pottery together.  It was nice working with the actual artefacts instead of looking at them on a screen.  While focusing on the puzzles in front of her she could ignore her own depression threatening to consume her.