Mikaal

48: Mikaal

Dalia's iPhone mocked her with its silence—not a single word from Ardelle...

It was now Tuesday. She had tried to contact Ardelle just about the entire day before. She'd left voicemails; she'd sent her texts. She felt bad pestering her, yet she cried for answers.

'Where is she?'

Dalia's eyes grew wide as an alarming thought came to her. 'Is she okay?'

She checked the time—9:00 am. The medical practice should be open by now. She quickly dialled their number.

"Hello, Scarborough Beach Medical Centre, this is Liz speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hello, uh, is Ardelle okay? I mean, is she working today?" Dalia held her breath.

"Yes, she's just seeing her first patient. Did you want to book an appointment to see her?"

"Yes! The earliest time, please."

Liz mumbled into the phone while clicks of a mouse could be heard through the receiver. Eventually, she said, "We have a spot at 10:30 am."

"I'll take it!"

Dalia gave Liz her personal details then hurriedly showered and dressed. She had plenty of time before her appointment but sitting around at home was the last thing she felt like doing.

"I need sugar," she thought aloud, deciding San Churro's Spanish hot chocolate would serve her well.

"Hey Siri, give me directions to Hillarys Boat Harbour," she said once she was behind the wheel.

Hillarys was a reasonably affluent, northern suburb that was close to Scarborough Beach—yet far enough away from the likely spots she might bump into Mikaal or Simon.

Forty minutes later, Dalia strolled along the boardwalk towards the cluster of retail stores and eateries at one of Perth's iconic recreational destinations, both for locals and tourists. She glanced around her, taking in the peaceful view of the ocean, the calming sound of the lapping waves soothing her heightened senses.

Dalia crinkled her nose. "I hope it's open..." she said under her breath as she approached the striking brown and orange logo, remembering too late that some of the San Churro franchises didn't open until noon.

She beamed when she saw a few customers already seated and enjoying their morning coffees out of brightly coloured mugs.

"Good morning," the girl behind the counter greeted cheerfully.

"Morning. Can I just have the Classic Spanish Hot Chocolate please?"

"Absolutely!"

Dalia tapped her card, folded and stuffed the receipt in her purse then made her way to a seat with the view of three identical yachts, parked side by side, bobbing ever so slightly with the waves.

When her order arrived a few minutes later, she took a small sip of the hot liquid, savouring the delectable, rich, creamy chocolate rolling over her tongue, warming her mouth. "Mmmm," she murmured quietly.

She looked up, feeling like it had been ages since she'd indulged in this guilty pleasure. But when she remembered the last time she had been to San Churros, she frowned.

'Simon,' she thought with a grimace—that day she caught up with him, still nursing her hiking injury...

Dalia gasped out loud at an unexpected recollection before clapping a hand over her mouth after a few odd looks were thrown her way.

'Oh my God!' How could she have completely missed it? Simon's comment, so plainly obvious now yet it flew by her—the clue that should have alerted her to the fact that her memories were all wrong.