Caged Nightingale

71- Atif

For a moment I'm blinded by the sudden darkness inside. I walk through the door, across the TV room and straight upstairs. Shower, bed.
That's what I need. Just rest.
As I strip off in the dressing room, I try not to look at the stacked boxes of jewellery cases still sat on one of the shelves. She didn't want any of it. Didn't need any of it. It meant nothing to her. The money, the wealth, the power; she wasn't impressed by any of it. Even now, I don't know what more I could have done.
Then it happens. I do the one thing I haven't done since I was 11. The inevitable nadir: I cry. Exhausted, defeated, I stand there in the shower and cry like a fucking baby. Angry sobs because of the fucking injustice of it all. Frustrated, helpless tears because there is literally nothing more I could have done. She was inexorable. Sad, pitious tears because I realise I was not enough and finally agonised tears because my chest hurts. My heart feels like a bruised plum in my chest and I just can't fucking take it because it's all abstruse.
Big man in the shower crying his heart out like a pathetic pussy. But I just don't care.
When I finally get out of the shower; I feel numb. I rest my hands on the sink and then wipe away the stream from the clouded mirror. My eyes are bloodshot. Slowly, i go through the motions of shaving, zombie like. Slide, rinse. Slide, rinse. The gentle slapping of water in the sink as I clean the blade, is the only sound. When I'm done, I wipe away the last of the shaving gel with a face towel and walk back into the dressing room. Discarding the towel, I slip into some PJ bottoms and stop. Stop.
Slowly, I turn and walk back into the bathroom. Walk over to the sink and stare at the glass sitting on the edge of it. Crouch down till it is at eye level. There's a toothbrush sat in it. Saara's toothbrush. Yellow and white. I stay kneeling there, just staring at it. She packed it. I saw her do it. She came into the dressing room, gave me mine and put hers in her wash bag before we left. Then what the hell is this?
I walk out of the bathroom, dressing room, bedroom- in a daze, I move around the upstairs landing, going from room to room, quietly opening doors and checking.
As I descend the stairs, I pick up the pace, taking them two at a time, panic creeping in, gym- no-one, kitchen- I absent mindedly shake hands with uncle Mansoor, who seems to be making breakfast and comes over to greet me; study- empty; dinning room- silent, the excitement and hope begins to wane. Realisation setting in that she's not here. Why am I doing this to myself? she's not coming back.
I stand in the middle of the lounge, lost. Just stand there half dressed wondering what the fuck I'm doing. Is this the craziness I can expect from now on? I rake my hair in frustrstion- I'm loosing the plot.
From the periphery of my vision i see uncle Mansoor walk in with a breakfast tray. He doesn't stop in front of me like I expect or place the tray on the coffee table, in fact he walks straight past me. I lift my head and watch him cross the room- confused. He goes into the narrow corridor and I hear the sliding doors open into the rear garden. Without thinking, I follow him.
He places the tray on the table flanked by two wooden deck chairs and smiles. Only one of them is already occupied.
Its Saara.