CHERUB: The Sleepwalker - Robert Muchamore Page 0,22
hour later when his parents began arguing downstairs. He couldn’t hear properly from his bed so he crept closer to the doors and opened a small crack.
‘The boy needs discipline,’ Hassam said determinedly. ‘I’ll speak to my father.’
Fahim’s heart rate surged when he heard this.
‘I’ll ask them to recommend a school,’ his father continued, ‘somewhere close to my family.’
‘We’ve always agreed that our son would stay here and have a proper English education,’ Yasmin said firmly. ‘I want him here, not thousands of miles away in Abu Dhabi.’
‘I can’t bear to look at Fahim,’ Hassam shouted. ‘With his Nikes and his Playstation, growing fat on Rolos and chocolate chip cookies. He knows nothing of his own culture or people.’
Yasmin laughed. ‘And how are his Nikes and Playstation different from your Rolexes and BMWs? You pretend you’re such a good Muslim when you visit your father, but you don’t own a prayer mat, you don’t observe Ramadan and you’ve never even set foot inside a mosque in this country.’
‘You can’t speak to me like this,’ Hassam shouted again, pounding his fist into his palm and making Fahim shudder with fright. ‘Until now I’ve left the boy’s upbringing to you, but he’s turned into a westernised brat.’
‘You only want him to go to school in Abu Dhabi to curry favour with your father. Our son isn’t a pawn.’
‘If it’s my will, Fahim will go to school in Abu Dhabi. How can it make him worse than he is already? How much will it cost me to repair these trophies and stained-glass windows?’
Yasmin took a deep breath. ‘If you send my son away, I’ll go to the police and tell them everything I know about that aeroplane.’
Fahim gasped. His mother had lied to him – or at least not told him the whole truth. He heard a slap and his mother screamed in pain.
The violence always turned Fahim’s stomach. Tears welled as he pushed open his bedroom doors. But the cries that usually lasted half a minute at most went on far longer and grew more desperate. Each moan ripped at his soul.
Fahim wasn’t strong enough to stop his father, but he hoped his presence might shame him into stopping. He walked unsteadily out of his room and leaned on the banister as he stumbled down the curving staircase. It felt like forever, battling to stay upright, with a swaying head and eyeballs refusing to focus.
‘Leave her alone,’ Fahim shouted, when he reached the archway into the living-room.
Yasmin was down on the floor crying. The coffee table was tipped over and a slick of glossy magazines spilled across the rug.
‘Do you spy on me now?’ Hassam roared, as he saw Fahim in the doorway. He was a powerful man, well past reasoning. Sweat drizzled down his face and his hairy fists seemed eager to inflict more pain.
‘I overheard the screaming,’ Fahim blurted. ‘She’s half your size. Why can’t you leave her alone?’
‘Don’t interfere, Fahim,’ Yasmin sobbed, as her nose rained red spots on to the rug.
‘Get back to bed,’ Hassam ordered, pointing back to the staircase. ‘Do you want to feel my belt?’
‘For god’s sake, he’s sick,’ Yasmin wailed. ‘Leave him alone.’
Hassam turned around and kicked his wife in the stomach. She howled with pain as she doubled up close to the leather couch.
‘You will both learn to respect me,’ Hassam screamed, as he unbuckled and ripped his belt from his trousers. ‘This is my home. I’m the head of this household.’
Fahim turned to run but there was no power in his legs and the metal buckle caught him on the shoulder blade, tearing his skin. The pain made his head tilt back in spasm and the boy landed heavily on bare knees as the second swipe caught the back of his head.
‘There will be discipline in my house,’ Hassam boomed. ‘I can’t tolerate this behaviour.’
Fahim sobbed and shivered as he crawled on the cool marble, but his father kept swinging with the belt.
‘For god’s sake you’ll kill him,’ Yasmin shouted, as she crawled forward and wrapped her arms around her husband’s legs. ‘He’s eleven years old.’
Fahim moaned with relief as his father backed off. ‘Get up to your room,’ he ordered. ‘And stay there until I call you.’
*
A CHERUB agent’s worst nightmare is being singled out for an individual training exercise. Usually this only happens when you break the rules, or drop below the required level of physical fitness. James was in good shape and fairly sure that he hadn’t been caught