Father of the Bride

Chapter 27: Inferno

"Remember what I said? This is room is where it began. This room is where it ends."

Basharat Qureshi.

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Basharat sneaked through the side alley holding the green jerry can in his hand. He looked around making sure the coast was clear. Then, he pushed the gate open allowing him entry into the back yard. Having sneaked into the house many times before, he wasn't surprised that Mahnoor didn't reinforce the back door. He shoved a crowbar between the frame and door and yanked it open.

Inside the dark hallway he carefully shut the door behind him. Heart thudding, excitement rushed through his veins. He couldn't get the image out of his head of Khizar standing next to his Mahnoor. Then they both left the house and Mahnoor still wasn't back. It was her fault. Everything that led to this point was her fault. Basharat apologised to her, he begged her that he'd changed but she had other ideas and this vexed him. Why was she doing this? After tonight, she would regret her secret relationship with Khizar. He grinned running his hand over his hat.

Standing in the lounge, he looked floral decorations hanging in arches on the wall and over the door frame and window. The red light flashed in the smoke alarm. He remembered the day he installed it, to keep his wife and son safe. He stood on the chair and yanked it from the ceiling with one powerful pull. This was Mahnoor's fault. She was making him do this. He threw the smoke alarm into the bin.

Amirah and Ayaaz were asleep. This would be the perfect wedding present. A stern message to Mahnoor that she should never have chosen Khizar. She should never had re-married. Basharat opened the can and began to pour petrol on the wood flooring, the sofa leading a chemical path back to the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen he gathered a bunch of kitchen roll and filled the sink. Then he struck the match glaring at the orange flame with excitement.

"Mahi-" He mocked a cry. "Mahi. Where are you?" He rehearsed. "The house is on fire. It's all gone." He began to blubber softly. "Our son has gone and it's your fault. You should never have left the house-you bitch!" His cries hardened into anger. This was it.
Suddenly the sound of the front door blew out the match. Basharat held his breath. Who was it?

Mahnoor made her way into her house and placed her keys on the shelf. Dressed in a chiffon white ankle length dress, she took off her shoes and craned her neck to the right and left. The chemical smell of fresh paint still lingered in her breaths. It was everywhere even in her home. She stepped forward to make her way into the lounge, but stopped. The thought of the messy kitchen put her off. She couldn't face it. Maybe tomorrow morning.

After a tiresome night with Khizar, she wanted to rest, recharge her batteries ready to talk to Ayaaz in the morning. Mahnoor made her way upstairs in the dark careful not to wake the newlyweds.

Inside her room, she switched on the lamp and closed the door. Throwing her handbag on the bed side she lay back on the bed and coughed. Softly, she closed her eyes and relaxed hoping to fall into a natural rhythmic sleep. Then, she heard steps outside her door. She rubbed her eyes. Once again she coughed and sat up. Someone was outside. When she opened the door, Basharat stood before her struggling with the smoke alarm. Mahnoor's heart plunged to the ground. Dressed in morbid black, he yanked the smoke alarm from the ceiling and sniggered at her flashing his gold tooth.

"You back, after fucking the doctor?" He gazed at her damp hair.

Mahnoor froze. Eyes hardened with hate, she was terrified of him and backed into her room.

"What are you doing here?" her voice trembled.

"So, what's he like?" Basharat shut the door and stood in front of it. "Is he better than me?"