CHAPTER THREE - The Home Coming

173 22 2
                                    


Faisal waited for Umamah patiently by the car. The boys were arguing about Umamah's Speech. Abdullah could not understand how certificates did not mean everything. He argued that Umamah had studied for her exams and CAs as though her life depended on it. If they  really did not mean everything, why bother so much?

Farid however, was beyond exhausted from explaining to his brother that Umamah was right in her speech, for what benefit would excellent certificates or several awards be to you without a beneficial use for them?

Faisal was not listening to either arguments.

What was taking her so long? Was saying farewell to her French tutor such a difficult thing? Mrs. Abdulmanaf was Umamah's Mentor. She was a Muslim and had chosen Umamah as a Mentee since she arrived in York. She wasn't even loquacious!

"You know..." Farid said, looking at Abdullah, though, addressing Faisal. "If you are worried about her, you could go in there."

Faisal turned to the boys who were both mocking him with their eyes. "I am not worried!" He denied vehemently.

He was clearly crazy worried. What was wrong with him? He had left her here for three good years with only Sultan and the two secret guards as watch. Why did just a few minutes of her absence now feel like forever?

"I would have thought so too." Abdullah said. "But the way your eyes are glued to that exit makes it rather pretty unbelievable Uncle, don't you think?"

Ignoring their accurate insinuations, Faisal asked instead, "The French Teacher, it is still Mrs. Abdulmanaf right?"

"And there it is. The true intent!" Farid said in between self-induced cough.

"And here comes the bride. I think you can ask her yourself." Abdullah announced as Umamah walked down the stairs. The boys opened the door as well and got in.

"Assalaam'alaykum." Faisal greeted, opening the door for her.

"Wa'alaykumussalaam Wa RahmatuLlaah." The response rolled out strangely from her tongue.

It was not that they did not have lots of Muslims in York that gave or responded to tasleem. In fact, over the years, she had grown comfortable with being a Nigerian Muslim in the UK.

But with Faisal, it was different. He gave the tasleem as though it had a purpose to it, Intending it to sink.

"Put on your seatbelts please." He told everyone as he took his seat by the driver's. And to Umamah, he said;

"You did take your time."

You only replied a question, so Umamah was silent.

"Uncle Faisal was asking a while ago, if your French Teacher was still Prof AbdulManaf. I think he wanted to know if it's changed to a man." Abdullah said casually.

Umamah glanced at Faisal who looked away immediately, clearly embarrassed. He had probably not expected that the boys would be so blunt about his question.

Just then, his phone rang and he picked it hands-free.

"Wa'alaykumu-ssalam Sa'eed."

"Okay, get to it."

"Cancel it."

"Send the Temporary Board."

"And Sa'eed?" He called and waited for the person at the other end of the line to respond, then he said quite deliberately. "Do not call me again unless someone is dying."

Then he ended the call and headed into the road.

Well, who were they going to call if I were the one dying? Umamah wondered. She was being sarcastic, and she knew it. She had never believed that Faisal could hurt her.

Affianced By ForceOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora