Lucy and the Sheikh(61)
“Hence your interest here.”
“Of course. I’m always trying to make up for it, always angry with myself. So now you know how stupid I am.”
“Yes.”
For the first time since she’d spoken she looked at him with a sad, resigned smile. “You agree with me, then. I’m culpable.”
“Yes, you’re stupid. Yes, you’re to blame. But not for what happened to you when you were little more than a child!” He leaped out of the chair and paced behind the desk. “You make me so angry. How could you punish yourself for such a thing? You were young and alone, apart from a sister who was also still a child. Of course you’re not culpable. When will you stop punishing yourself?”
“Punishing myself? By moving around, having fun, enjoying new experiences?”
“Punishing yourself by running away. As soon as you might be happy, you’re off. Stop it. Stay. Here. With me.”
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”
He continued to pace. “Do you remember when we first met? By the pool I explained about the djullinar, the monster who forces people to confront that which he or she dreads the most?”
“I remember. I think you are the djullinar. You’ve made me think more about my past than at any time over the past eight years.”
“Then do something about it. Lucy, you were only fifteen. You can’t go on blaming yourself forever. You’re young, you have a life to lead, a life here, with me.” He stopped pacing, grabbed her hands and held them tight, circling his thumbs over her tight fists. “What do I have to do to make you see?”
“You need a family. You need children. I can’t go there. I can’t risk it. I’m no good at that stuff.”
“Really? And how exactly do you know this?”
“I just know.”
He dropped her hands. “If you loved me you’d risk it. You obviously don’t love me enough.” He felt sick with anger, frustration and a love she didn’t want.
She didn’t move immediately. He could practically name the emotions as they flitted across her expressive face. Confusion, sadness, resignation…
“I have to go. I have to leave.” Her voice was so small, tiny and soft as if a wisp of wind would blow it away.
He reached out and looped his finger under the compass that swung at her neck. “And where will your compass take you this time? Alex said there’ll always be a job for you with him.”
“You asked him, didn’t you?”
“Of course. I want you to be safe. I want you to be cared for, if I can’t do it.” He dropped the compass. “You’d better leave, then.”
He wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Why should he? He stood and watched as she turned and left. She’d stop any moment now. Surely she’d stop and see that he spoke sense. Then she quietly opened the door and he held his breath, waiting for her to turn around. But then she was gone and the door was closed. For a brief moment frustration filled him and he wanted to go after her and drag her into his arms, make her stay. But, he knew it would be pointless. He felt she loved him but without her saying so, he couldn’t be sure. It was fear that was preventing her from staying, he was sure. But you couldn’t force someone to confront their fears—he knew that from experience. But perhaps force wasn’t the only way. He picked up the phone.
The invitation to the clinic had been unexpected and unwanted—it interfered with her travel plans and it interfered with the self-discipline she needed to leave Razeen. She might have managed to refuse it, just as she had the previous invitations, if it hadn’t been hand delivered by Aakifah, with her little sister on her hip, bright-eyed and mischievous, now fully recovered from her anemia.
As Lucy watched Aakifah chat easily with the women at the clinic, she realized just how much Aakifah loved her work there, and how well she fitted into the clinic. It made Lucy feel good to realize that she’d actually done something worthwhile for her friend.
After the receptionist exchanged a few words with Aakifah, she turned to Lucy with a puzzled expression. “The director, who invited you, has been called into a meeting and has asked me to introduce you to the newest patient. But she would like to discuss something with you later, after your visit.” Aakifah appeared uncertain. “If that’s all right with you, Lucy?”
“Sure.” Lucy thought it odd, but guessed the nature of the clinic’s work would make it hard for the director to stick to a schedule.
Aakifah took her to one end of a long room where a very young woman sat holding a baby tightly to her body. While her arms gripped the child, her eyes seemed disconnected, huge, terrified.