Tangled Dreams

CHAPTER 4: EVERYTHING ABOUT HER (Part 1) | Khalid Khairuddin

I held a cup of hot coffee carefully between my palms to warm up my frozen fingers. My body was still shivering from the cold that had enveloped me while walking to Tukdin's restaurant. I sipped the coffee slowly to warm up my body. Oh, that tasted good! It was more enjoyable when savoured in such cold weather.

I placed the cup back on the saucer and looked out the window at the quiet street. There was no one out in such weather. Three degrees Celsius. This was the coldest springtime I had ever experienced in London in the month of March. The weather here had become increasingly unpredictable in recent years. In the course of a day, the sun could appear behind clouds and then just vanish without a trace, followed by strong winds, heavy rain or snow that continuously enveloped the ground in little flakes.

I did not like London because of its extremely unpredictable weather. One moment bright and sunny, the next raining and gloomy. It played havoc with my emotions. I much preferred the bright sunshine back home in Malaysia. However, my job as a flight attendant often brought me to London. I was here because it was my destiny.

Twenty minutes went by. I had already finished a cup of coffee. Where was she? I raised my hand to order another cup of coffee when the little bell above the door rang. The door was opened wide and Athirah stepped inside.

"Sorry, I'm late again," Athirah apologised as she took the seat in front of me. Her handbag was put on an empty seat beside her while her mobile phone was placed on the table. Athirah never used to be late; she would always appear exactly on time. Occasionally, she would have turned up earlier than the appointed time. That was her. However, ever since taking over the reins of her family's business empire, Athirah was often late when we met. It was obvious her life had changed since her father's death. Had she changed too?

I ordered two cups of coffee, which was her favourite beverage, not mine. I would have been content with anything, as long as it was hot. But right now, I was contented to see Athirah. After she resigned from her job as flight attendant, we rarely met. Because of that, whenever I stopped by in London, I would be sure to ask her out. Simply because I missed her.

Athirah took off her gloves and blew her warm breath at her long fingers. I wanted to reach out for her hands to warm them with mine but I lacked the courage. She would surely be shocked if I had done so. Who was I to hold her hands?

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked as she looked at the clock on the wall. She looked tired and despondent, as if she had a heavy burden on her shoulders. I felt sorry for her.

"I was lucky I didn't wait outside or else I'd have turned into a block of ice," I joked as I put on my best impression of an ice sculpture. I tried my utmost not to blink and held my breath. Athirah could not help but laugh. I was not the type of person that liked to joke with others, but with Athirah, that was the only way I knew to amuse her.

"Have you ordered yet?" she asked next, looking at the menu. I pulled the menu away from her hands, closing it before placing it on the adjacent table. Whenever we had a rendezvous, the meeting place would always be Tukdin's establishment. I had already memorised the list of Malaysian dishes on the menu.

"Ayam masak merah. An omelette. Nasi goreng sambal. I've already ordered the usual. Do you want anything else?" I asked. Athirah shook her head.

"That was father's choice every time he came here. No more, no less," Athirah elaborated in a soft voice. She gazed out the window and a gentle sigh escaped from her lips. Memories of her late father came flooding back every time she ate here. When I suggested a change of location, she objected. She said that this place was her refuge from the incessant demands of her new world.

The reality was that Athirah was heir to dozens of shops along Oxford Street. The properties were leased to other businesses selling clothes, shoes, fragrances, food and suchlike. Brand names such as Debenhams, HMV, House of Fraser, John Lewis, Marks & Spencer, Selfridges and Topshop leased shops from her family. This was the empire owned by Athirah's family. Now, she had to manage everything.

We were quiet for a long while. Not a single word was uttered. Athirah gazed out of the window. As the loyal companion, I pretended to ponder and be in deep thought, when in fact, out of the corners of my eyes, I was stealing glances at her. I scrutinised every little movement without her knowledge. Suddenly, she turned and looked at me.

"I don't understand. Why did dad keep his heart condition a secret from me? Why did mum go along with it? It was only at the end that dad revealed his intention for me to inherit everything. It's unfair. It's unfair to me," Athirah bemoaned softly. I too did not understand. It was better for me to keep quiet in case I said the wrong thing. I held my tongue.

"In the blink of an eye, I was thrust into the business world, as if I was commanded to lead. I feel as though I'm shackled. I have lost the freedom to live as I please," she moaned. The waiter arrived with the two cups of coffee that I had ordered earlier. Athirah slowly sipped her cup of coffee. She placed the cup back on the saucer on the table before sighing again. I was all ears.

"I did consider employing people to collect the rent and to ensure everything went smoothly, but mum objected. She said: 'This is our family business. Only family should handle it.' She gives me such a headache," she added. I let her pour out her grievances. I could only listen. There was nothing I could do to change things.

A few minutes later, the food was served. I said a short supplication. Athirah lifted her spoon and forced the rice slowly into her mouth. After a few spoonfuls, she stopped. Her plate was pushed aside. Athirah had lost her appetite again.