any minute."
"Yes," she said. "You told me all of this, Theo."
"So for God's sake, why won't you give me some time? Now that Haytham's dead, we can be together. We can make it happen. Sahlah, don't you see? Haytham's dying could be something that was meant to be. It could be a sign.
It's as if the hand of God is telling us - "
"Haytham was murdered, Theo," she said.
"And I don't think God had anything to do with it."
He'd been silent at this. Was he shocked? she wondered. Was he horrified? Was he sifting through his thoughts to labricate somcuimg, „,.„ just the right ring of sincerity: tender words of compassion that offered a condolence which he did not feel? Or was something altogether different going on in his head, a fervid search for a subtle means to portray himself in the most positive light?
Say something, she'd thought. Ask a single question that will serve as a sign.
"How do you know . . . ? The newspaper .
When it said the Nez ... I don't know why, but I thought he had a heart attack or something, or maybe even a fall. But murdered? Murdered?"
Not, My God, how are you coping with this horror? Not, What can I do to help you? Not, I'm coming to you this instant, Sahlah. I'm taking my rightful place at your side, and we're putting an end to this bloody charade.
"The police told my brother this afternoon," she'd said.
And another silence ensued. In it, she heard him breathing and she tried to interpret his respiration as she'd tried a moment earlier to gauge the meaning behind the delay between her revelation and his response.
He finally said, "I'm sorry that he's dead. I'm sorry about the fact that he's dead. But I can't pretend to be sorry that you won't be marrying at the weekend. Sahlah, I'm going to speak to Gran. I'm going to tell her everything, start to finish. I saw how close I came to losing you, and the moment we have this redevelopment project up and running, she'll be distracted, and I'll tell her."
"And that's what you want her to be? Distracted?
Because if she's distracted she might not notice when you introduce us that my skin is a colour she finds offensive?"
"I didn't say that."
"Or is it that you don't intend to introduce us at all? Perhaps you hope that her project for the town will take enough out of her to finish her off.
And then you'll have her money and your freedom as well."
"No! Please! Listen to me."
"I don't have the time," she'd said, and she'd rung off just as Yumn came out of the sitting room and into the hall where the telephone sat on a stand at the foot of the stairs.
Her sister-in-law had smiled with such specious solicitude that Sahlah knew she'd heard her side of the conversation. "Oh my goodness, that phone hasn't stopped its ringing since word got out about our poor Haytham," Yumn said. "And how kind it is of all his closest friends, phoning to offer their sympathies to Haytham's pretty young bride. But she wasn't quite a bride, was our little Sahlah? Just a few days short of it. But never mind that. It must soothe her heart to know that so many people had a love for our Haytham that equalled her own." Yumn's eyes laughed while the rest of her face formed an expression of funereal suitability.
Sahlah turned on her heel and went to her mother, but she heard Yumn's quiet laughter following her. She knows, Sahlah thought, but she doesn't know everything.
Now in her bed, she opened her eyes to see if the torch outside still flickered its message.
ouuil, short, long, pause. Short, short, long, pause. He was waiting.
I'm asleep, Theo, she told him silently. Go home. Go to Gran. It doesn't matter anyway, because even if you spoke - proud of our love and unafraid of your grandmother's reaction to it - I still wouldn't be free to come to you. You're like Rachel at heart, Theo.
You see freedom as a simple act of will, a logical conclusion to recognising one's needs and desires and merely working to fulfill them. But I haven't that sort of freedom, and if I try to grasp it, we'll both be ruined. And when people who love find themselves and their fragile world in shambles, love dies quickly and blame takes its place. So go home, Theo.
Please. Go home.
She turned away so