Love after Loss

Chapter 10 - West London

6 months later...

Hiba
West London, 8:15 am...
My brother picked my papers up from the dining table and gave them to me. "Ok, you got everything you need?" I nodded to my brother.

We were in our new house, in a new city, in a different country. We were thinking of moving here previously with my father. London. A city with life in the rain and streaks of red on every street. I wasn't sure about staying in my past home, Detroit has too many remnants of the trauma there. I needed to feel like myself again.

You may be thinking, how come I moved here so quickly? I was only in Detroit with my father 6 months ago, so why move? Well, to put it short... things... had happened in these last 6 months.

I had yet another trauma in my life, and my plan with my brother was pushed forward quickly after dad wrote in his will that he wanted to be buried with his only brother in London. Allah knows why he didn't want to just get buried in Detroit. May Allah forgive his sins and grant him peace in his grave (ameen).

My brother had bought a house in West London. They call it a terraced house here, we call it a townhouse, but it was tall and big compared to its size outside. There were 5 bedrooms, a whole attic space, en-suites and walk-in wardrobes for every bedroom, a huge drawing room, an even bigger living room and hallway with truffle leather sofa chairs, a beautiful kitchen with an island and a separate store cupboards, all paved in marble and walls lacquered in a creamy white.

My first thoughts was that it was nice I guess, and it was like an old-fashioned cute when we bought it. Thankfully, my brother gave me free reign over redecorating. It kept my mind off of Dad... and everything led in my life.

For the 3 months since we moved to London, things were coming along quite smoothly. The kitchen island was changed to have a white marble top (I love marble in kitchens and floors if you haven't noticed) and the stairs was this old set of spiral stairs, to which I designed a new classical look railing that incorporated the phrase 'ٱلْحَمْدُ لِلَّٰهِ' cut out of it. It was cut out of a mesh metal sheet bent around with a bronzey-black finish. I had also had the marble floors refurbished at first then changed the finish slightly to match better with the staircase.

I was so happy with my design, but not busy enough because the materials were taking too long. So I decided to get a job. I know my brother is a billionaire but still, I like working. Especially for my own money.

I decided to stay within the general design field, but because I had no degree everyone was shutting me out. So I had decided to try one more place before I go broke travelling everywhere.

Then on a website and through some design pages on Instagram I found some smaller design company where I could go. Maybe. The firm worked in automotive design and mainly worked with companies like Jaguar. So naturally, the job title I was going for was at first for an interior automotive designer. Unfortunately the position got filled, but then I also saw another job on there: personal assistant to the CEO. The deadline to apply was at 12 sharp so I stayed up writing my cover letter and resume (or CV as they call it here) and applying for the job. Inshā'allāh, I get it. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I was hoping to work my way up the chain instead. But I was gunning for it. I need it.

I gave Ahmad a hug and went out to the car he'd called for me. Normally I say no and tell him I'll walk or take public transport alone or sometimes with him, but I'm wouldn't be arriving in a Bentley to a simple job interview! But for some reason, I was too tired. So I decided to let him this time. I needed this job. I mean, yes, like I said my brother is a billionaire but I needed it for my mind and to keep me occupied.

I read my duas and stepped outside after saying 'Bismillah' and breathed in that fresh air. I stepped down our stone steps to the car waiting outside. A beautiful White Bentley Flying Spur, parked away from the kerb enough to not to scratch the alloys. Hm. I'm starting to talk like people here now!

"Salam, Miss Akram! How are you this fine morning?", asked Alex, our driver.

He was a good guy, anytime he saw either of us sad he'd try to cheer us up. For Ahmad, he would start talking about football (yes I learned it's not soccer), for me it was grabbing me an iced coffee and putting some good Indian music on that his sister-in-law showed him whilst I laugh at him giving his all to sing it, and after that he would often then take us both to the park, forcing him to get out and get some fresh air. "You're not losing money - you only need to pay me to open the doors and for the hours I drive!", he would say. Masha Allah, such a good soul, I hope he's fully guided to Islam.

"Alhamdulillah, feeling okay..." I said with a slight smile on my face. Of course, he couldn't see, but the tone of my voice didn't help.

"Right, hop inside, we're gonna sort that!", he said opening the back door whilst smiling a bigger smile back. Ok, this was going to be good. He knows how to make us both motivated in the morning. "Alex, why do you open the door when you know perfectly well that I do have the strength to do it myself?" I said, even though it's not the first time I ask this.

"Well technically speaking it is part of my job role!" He replied, with a huge grin on his face. I shook my head and sat inside the car. He shut the door after I picked up the tail of my dress from outside the car, and got in himself putting it into drive.

I reclined my seat at first, but then he decided to override the controls after noticing me trying to sleep. I wanted to sleep though, as I didn't get as much last night as I should have.

"Ah, ah ah! No relaxing, by my driving we have 30 minutes until we get to the interview venue, and your interview is in an hour, so we have about 15 minutes to kill." Okay, my interview was in an hour but Waze said 45 minutes including traffic on my phone! Let's just say that he is a very skilled driver. He tapped the detour button on the satnav and the car spoke.

"Please speak your new detour destination", the car said.

"Chin Chin Camden", he replied. The car started the new route, put on some British rap music (I think the guy was called Dappy?) and he drove his way over. Well, I say drove, more like driving like he had police chasing him. It's a big car, I don't know how he hasn't even scratched it yet. He'll drive like this in a hurry when my brother lets him and if we're just having a relaxing drive he'll literally stick the cruise control on half the time.

We arrived in Camden, 20 minutes before my 15 minute early deadline (so like 35 minutes before the interview). We grabbed Chin Chin's famous hot chocolates with a hint of coffee in them, and made our way back to the car. We then drove to the interview without music but the A/C turning on and off on full blast in the back, making me properly awake.

Soon, we arrived outside the office building that inshā'allāh I could soon call my workplace.

It was... big to say the least. Not too big though, just the right size for a firm this size. It was in Central London, but for a building in the heart of the city it was actually quite open and had a lot of open space around it. It wasn't like some sort of old building either, it was a nice new building with a glass front, it had to be at least 3 or 4 floors. It looked narrow from the front, but when we drove round to the side to drop me off it was really long down the side even after the restricted area.

We sat in the car for another 5 minutes going over my CV and potential questions they could ask. It was only a PA job, but I wanted to show I'm the best candidate. I wanted this job so badly.

"Right, time for you to go. I'll park up, let me know if you want picking up or not cos I'll go get myself something to eat. Don't worry Miss Akram, you'll be fine." And with that I nodded, sat up straight and exited the car before Alex could reach around to my door.

"Bismillah" I whispered to myself.

~~~

Assalamu alaikum readers!

How you all been? Alhamdulillah good. Hope you enjoyed this short chapter, tried to move the story on a bit and yes I know I did something mean and killed someone but hey! You have some more to look forward to!

Will Hiba get her job?
What does Ahmad do? And more importantly, what DID he do?
Do you rate Alex?
Where do you think Hiba is interviewing?

All is to come and more in 'Life after Loss'.
(Yea still thinking I should change that name lmk what it should be)

Please let me know what you think, don't forget to Vote, Comment and Follow for when this story updates!
Assalamu alaikum warahmatullahi Wa Barakaatu!