"Stop!" I say turning off the AC. "Do you hear that?" Atif is talking about our trip next week, transfers from the airport to the resort we are visiting. But in that moment I'm not listening.
"What?!" He says. Stopping to listen. " I don't hear anything!" Silence.
"Exactly!" I say concerned, switching off the tv. "It's quiet!"
"Really?!" Atif looks at me like I'm loosing plot and picks up some papers from the coffee table.
"Zain! Where are the kids?" I ask, opening the door to a smaller office full of security cameras.
"Let me check" he says, but I'm already gone. Moving around the house. Ears to the ground. Silent stealth mode. Atif is looking out through the patio door then back at me, shrugging his shoulders.
I'm about to climb the stairs, when something stops me. Pure instinct. Instead, I turn to Atif's office. Slowly, I twist the handle and hear the shuffle of clothes and low giggles.
Carefully, quietly, I open the door.
Aisha and Amer are stood next to the sofa. Two heads of curly hair bobbing up and down. They are sliding their arms around on the leather sofa at the far end of the room. They must have found some oil. Because they are rubbing it all over the leather. Sliding across it bumping into each other and giggling.
"What the-" Atif says. But I shush him with a finger to my lips
"I'll deal with this" I whisper.
I open the door more fully and walk into the room.
Both children instantly stand up. They are 2 years old and full of faces of guilt. Aisha raises her hands to her face and covers her mouth. Amer just stands there twining his fingers together infront of him.
I put on my strict mother face, stride over towards them, then kneel on the floor infront of the two toddlers.
" what do you call this?" I say in as firm a voice as I can muster. I tug Ameer's sweatshirt with oil stain over it and give him my most stern look.
Ameer huge eyes move from me, to his his father and then back to me.
Like all children Aisha hears the harsh tone in my voice and knows immediately that she's has done something wrong. I can see the tears welling up in her eyes and turn to Atif- stopping him on his tracks as he tries to lean in to pick her up. He stands up again. I turn again to the children.
Their cheeks are red with excitement, from moments ago but the fear is creeping in, as they suddenly realise they've dove something they shouldn't have.
I raise my eye brows and repeat the question.
"And what do you call this?" I ask lightly tugging on the stained sweatshirt Ameer is wearing.
He looks at me confused.
"It's a jumper!" He says confusion in his eyes, like I should know.
Atif stifles a laugh behind me, turns and walks out of the room before the kids can acknowledge his amusement. He's right to laugh. Even I struggle to hide the amusement from my face.
" I meant the mess!" I say. The moments over. I can't be mad at these two. They are so cute. Even they'd mischievous nature is too endearing.
Later that night, Atif and I sit in the garden and contemplate the evening.
"Well the sofa's ruined!" Atif says sniggering
"Monkeys!" I say laughing.
"And now you know what a jumper looks like!" He says and laughs.
And that's the way our life is. Each day is a new adventure. No two days are the same.
Never
YOU ARE READING
Caged Nightingale
RomanceHe saw her for perhaps seconds, across a filled room, even then she had managed to stop time. Customers, sales assistents and even security, all frozen. Eyes followed the group across the shop floor and down the elevator. Captivated. 3 men: tall, d...
