In My Sister's Shadow-Book II

4. Uncoiled

Hey guys, thank you for your paitence. I have another BONUS chapter brewing on the slow cooker and I will post it on the weekend. For now, enjoy chapter 5. I luuuuurve writing!

______________________________________

Soapy splashing with foamy bubbles in a bath of warm water was a welcome sight. The twins played with their aeroplane, ducks and balls in the large corner bath with mum scrubbing Ayaan's neck with a flannel. It was a joy to return home. Sitting on the toilet seat observing mum take over with was a relief. I realised how much I missed mum, my home and even dad.

"Look at them. They're absolutely filthy!" Mum complained scrubbing Armaan's fingernails.
Once washed, mum dressed the twins in brand new clothes. She'd bought the clothes to kill her loneliness and collected bedsheets, toys, shoes for me and the children waiting for the day we returned. Mum was traditional. She liked being needed, if she wasn't a mum or grand mum she didn't have a purpose in her life. With no friends, no job or hobbies, her life revolved around dad. Now we'd returned, she was in her element buzzing with energy.
"What are you feeding them? Look at them. They've lost weight." She looked at Aymaan's ribs.
I couldn't hide the truth from mum. She deserved to know because she genuinely cared about me and the children.
"We lost the house." I confessed in the kitchen whilst she warmed milk for Zara and the twins.
"What do you mean?" She pressed.
"Zayn had debts. He couldn't pay the mortgage." I continued revealing our current situation but left out crucial details which would set her to worry.
"Please ammi, don't tell abba. He'll give Zayn a hard time. It's okay, we're managing." I lied.

When mum put the children to bed, I tidied their room folding the clothes and toys. Their bedroom was wide and fantastically designed. Wallpapered in a neutral lime and cream wallpaper, small led lights netted the ceiling giving the impression of a starry night sky. In the far corner was a soft bean bag and a shelf of books draped with thin muslin drapes making a comfortable corner. Mum filled the sheleves with books. Worry stretched mum's face, kissing the children like it was her last time. We stood in the hallway and she quizzed me.
"Tell me the truth Zohra. Something is not right. Your face-" She reached out and caressed my cheek. "You look pale. Have you been eating well?"

Finally, someone asked me how I was. I reached out to her and held her in warm tight embrace. I closed my eyes and sniffed her mustard seed oiled hair, Tibet cream fragrance emanated from her cheeks and nostalgia tearing my eyes. Tonight, it dawned on me how much I missed her, I needed her and the children needed her.

Over the next couple of days, my time at mum's house was a like a vacation. Mum allowed me to sleep in. She woke the children, dressed them and spoiled them to a waffle and pancake breakfast smothered in Nutella and cream.

The morning shower was a delight with warm water blasting on my bare skin, standing under the shower was a privilege I took for granted. The warm water softening my muscles, easing the cramps in my joints. The electricity charged my phone and heating kept the house warm. It was stupid, but I noticed the little things bringing me colossal joys.

In the evening, I spent time with dad in his study room. With cinnamon infused desi tea, we'd spent hours talking about his latest projects and purchases. He trusted me with the information and waited for my insight. Unfortunately, I wasn't as sharp as before. The figures and the plans made me feel tired. I lost my business nous over the last few months, rust eroding my mind making me indecisive and I lacked confidence in my judgement.
"What do you think beti, should I put these on rent or release the equity tied into the property? The market is hot."

Nursing the hot cup of chai with dad's bright eyes pinned upon me filled me with pride. However, I would let him down as I nervously pulled my sleeve over my wrist and into my palm concealing the latest scar. Dad stepped from behind his desk and made his way to the couch with his arm over the back nearing me.
"Beti, are you okay?" His voice warm and genuine, I couldn't look him in the eye fearing I would cry and plead him to save me. Dad was a good man. He'd provided for me, Zeenat and mum with everything. We never lacked in basic necessities despite lacking in love and emotion. Now I understood why he opposed Zeenat marrying Zayn. Dad didn't believe Zayn could provide a life that dad gave Zeenat. Dad was right. Zayn couldn't.
With the lamp flickering, I rested my head on dad's shoulder. He extended his arm around me.
"Beti, I'm sorry."
The television hummed a jaunty tune at the start of the news.
"Why?"
He sat up and cleared his throat.
"For this-for what I did to you. For making you marry Zayn. It was wrong and you're not happy."
My palms tightened around the mug of hot desi tea.
"He doesn't look after you and my grandchildren. But you're a good daughter, you listened to me. You have always been a good daughter, I never had a problem with you. Zeenat was different."
My chest expanded, my throat dry, I trembled. Dad had admitted his was wrong and I didn't know how to respond. He genuinely looked ashamed, his head bowed, his shoulder shrunken. For the first time in my life, I was on the receiving end of an apology from my father. I sighed unable to cope with my emotions.
"This house is empty without you and Zeenat's children. Now you're back your mother has changed. She is a different person. You bring life to the house."
I silently agreed.
"You belong here. The children belong here. Come home."
With his arm extended around me, he pulled me close and embraced me kissing my head. I knew if I looked up at him I'd cry. He was my dad and I was ready to do anything for him. Anything.
"I want to come home, but it's not that simple, abba." I whispered.
"Why? What is he saying?" He leaned back looking at me.
Rolling my eyes, I hid my tears. "Abba, just give me time. Zayn is struggling but won't admit it. The way he's going on he's putting the children at risk. Soon he will fail." I wanted to tell him that I've planned something, something which will make Zayn see sense. That something involved Kash; another man. This I couldn't tell dad.
"Trust me. We'll be back home. Soon."
Dad looked into my eyes with intent and understood in the moment of silence.
"Shabash (well done) my brave girl." He pulled me into an embrace. "I am proud of you. You see sense."
He kissed my forehead.
"What do you need from me?"
"Your prayers abba, nothing else."
"You always were my good, clever girl."