The Scars They Hide

Chapter Four - Loneliness is a Sense of Perspective

Chapter Four – Loneliness is a Sense of Perspective

The days passed with increasing urgency as if time couldn’t wait for February to end and March to begin. With time passing the weather changed too and the slightly warmer temperatures that March brought were a source of relief to Lutfiyah who didn’t despise the cold but despised being uncomfortable.

“If you don’t like the cold, god knows what you’re doing in England, dear,” Mrs Malone would always say. Lutfiyah would ask herself the same question, remembering the long warm days in Chicago only to be forcefully ripped out of those happy memories by another more painful one.

In the weeks that had passed, Lutfiyah hadn’t caught much sight of her neighbour. Even on milk days, his bottle would be waiting in the lobby long before she came and out of courtesy she would take his full bottle back up. Everyone was curious about the new bloke on the block but no one seemed to know anything more than she did. In fact, it seemed that she had had the most interaction with him aside from Mrs Turner when she had ambushed him on the first day.

“It’s like he’s a ghost, dear. You must be careful with men like that. They tend to be very flighty.”

Lutfiyah smiled kindly at her neighbour as she made tea for the woman and placed out a plate of biscuits.

“I don’t plan on getting involved, Mrs Malone. I am busy enough as it is.”

The old woman waved her off. “Oh please dear. You only work and then come home to sit with this lovely angel of yours. If you didn’t get an odd Saturday off, I wouldn’t even be seeing you.”

Lutfiyah sat opposite the woman with her own cup of tea, wrapping her hands around the hot mug and breathing in the steam. “Mrs Malone, my daughter is my life. I don’t need anything else.”

The woman shook her head sadly. “You say that now but you need companionship. I know that it must be difficult since May’s father passed on but when little May grows up and begins to have her own life, what will you do? You need a man in your life.”

Lutfiyah forced a smile. “I don’t want a man in my life.”

The old woman frowned. “Oh. Are you...do you prefer woman now?”

Lutfiyah’s eyebrows shot up and she laughed out in surprise. “No, no, that’s not why. I just don’t want...I...uh. It’s difficult to explain.”

“Well it’s all the same to me, honey. Just think about it. Mr Malone has a lovely nephew I could introduce you to. He’s not Moslem but you know. You could see what you like about him.”

“No that won’t be necessary, Mrs Malone. I’m happy as I am. I just want to concentrate on myself and May for awhile.”

She watched as the woman shrugged and drained her cup before standing up. “Okay dear, whatever makes you happy. But the offer still stands. Timothy is a wonderful boy. I should get going. Mr Malone gets grumpy when I leave him alone for too long.”

Lutfiyah picked up the container that she had packed for the couple. “Maybe some cupcakes will please him. You tell him I said hello.”

The old woman smiled with joy and hugged Lutfiyah before opening the door and saying, “You’re a lovely girl, Lutfiyah. Don’t waste your time being alone.”

With that she walked out, turning to go to her own flat. Smiling, Lutfiyah shook her head and glanced at the door in front of her. She stood staring at it for a few minutes before making up her mind and heading into her kitchen.

Carrying a plate loaded with her baked goodies, she knocked on her neighbour’s door. It was so odd but no one even knew what the new tenant’s name was.

She waited a few minutes before knocking again. Perhaps he was at work but according to the gossip mill, he never left his flat. Deciding to try and knock for the third and last time she lifted her fist but before it could fall, the door swung open to show a very shabby, very depressed looking man.

She took a step back in shock. He looked nothing like when she had first seen him. His clothes were rumpled and stained, his face haggard and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And not that she was trying to look, but what she could see of his flat was dirty and a mess.

Allah, but what had happened to the man!

She stumbled back as he glowered at her and she lifted her hand with the plate in between them perhaps as an unconscious gesture of defence.

His eyes dropped to the plate and finally he spoke. “What is that?”

His voice was hoarse and Allah help her, so deep that it sent shivers down her spine. “I uhm baked. I thought that you would like some.”

He stared at her as if she were an alien. “Baked?”

She nodded dumbly, feeling more stupid by the second for just standing there.

“Why?” he asked incredulously.

She frowned. “Because I like to bake.”

His head twitched slightly. “No. Why did you think that I would like some?”

She was thrown by the question. Why did she think that? She decided to answer honestly.

“I don’t know. I usually bake and send for Mr Malone. It makes him happy. I thought that...

She trailed off when she saw that he was glaring at her again. Getting tired of his attitude, she stepped forward and offered him the baked goods. “Look. Just...take the plate, okay?”

He looked at the plate as if it were poison before nodding and taking it, his fingertips brushing against hers, causing them to tingle.

“Jazakillah.”

“Barakallah,” she replied, her eyes taking a final sweep of his flat before turning away.

“Jaafar Abdullah,” he said softly, his deep voice carrying across the corridor.

“Huh?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“My name,” he said. “In case you wanted to know.”

She nodded and smiled slightly. “I’m Lutfiyah Abbas and my daughter is Maysura.”

“I know,” was all he said as he stepped back and closed the door.

Well then.