Sands of Redemption

8

Gripping a bottle of lemonade, Georgia sat in an isolated corner of the rooftop, as far away as she could get from the busy bar and the steady trickle of backpackers coming up for a drink. From down below came the rumble of traffic and the usual roar of a crowded, lively street. In the distance stood a cluster of skyscrapers, looking like smudged fingerprints in the smoggy sky.

While she sucked on her drink, the sky gradually darkened and the noise below took on a different timbre and pace. She was a failure. She had no job, no boyfriend and was back living with her parents. Great progress. She sighed. She might as well be eighteen again—no direction, no money, no life.

Just as the sun touched the horizon, casting its bloody red glow across the sky, there came the onset of the sunset prayer. It echoed around the city—inescapable, inviolable. Every bloody day. Five times a day without fail, without rest, without a frigging break. Georgia gritted her teeth. It had never annoyed her this much before, but after all that had happened, her patience was worn thin.

Once the sun had submerged and the prayers ceased, Georgia pressed her cheek against the table and watched in sullen silence as more and more people climbed to the rooftop.

'Georgia,' came a whisper.

Georgia shot up and turned. 'Jesus, Jasper! Warn me before you do that, would you?'

'Sorry,' he smiled. 'I guess I forget how easily I blend in with the crowd.'

'That, you do not,' Georgia said, observing the stares he drew from the women by the bar.

'May I sit?'

'Of course.'

Today, he had his dreads tied back into a ponytail, revealing the broadness of his shoulders. It made her palms sweat.

He swept his dreads aside so he wouldn't sit on them. 'Soooo, how was your day?' he inquired much too casually.

'Shit.'

He nodded. 'I heard what happened to you in your class yesterday. You look ready to kill.'

Georgia leant back in her seat with a frown. 'This place is really getting to me. I don't know how much longer I want to stay.'

'It gets to all of us.'

'It doesn't seem to get to you.'

He laughed. 'Oh, it definitely did, don't you worry. You just weren't here in my early days: no alcohol, being watched all the time, fewer girls willing to—' he shrugged and grinned '—give it time. Before long it'll get under your skin and it will be in a good way. As for now, your honeymoon is over. Welcome to the real Abassa, and it's not all hummus and sheesha.'

He leant towards her over the table. Georgia's heart began to race as he looked into her eyes. 'Tell you what, John and I are trying to get the group together to get out for the night. You up for it?'

'I don't know.' Not even the thought of spending the night with Jasper was enough to make her feel better. 'I don't really feel like it.'

'Come on, you can drown your sorrows there.' His grin was delicious.

'They serve alcohol?'

'Only the best.'

She considered. 'Fine. I'll come.'

'Great.' He clapped his hands.

'But only if you can get Bianca to come along too. I'm in need of some female support.'

'I don't think that will be a problem. Meet me at reception at nine. I'll get Habib to order us a cab.' He rose to his feet. 'Oh, and there are no dress restrictions so dress to impress. The local girls tend to wear their dresses under their robes until they get there.'