In My Sister's Shadow-Book II

5. Keeping the Peace.

Yaay! Another Chapter.

Thank you to latty_tamtam and Shameemobhayat from Instagram of your food ideas. Let me know if you spot them in this chapter.

Enjoy.

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The softness of the coat against my skin was incredible. So warm, and luxurious perhaps a purchase from Selfridges and it made me feel special. I fastened three big round brown buttons keeping out the cold and tugged my headscarf over the crown of my head. My hair loose tickling my neck, why didn't they give me a moment to sort myself out?

Walking along the street, I trailed behind Amjad into the autumnal evening. It was half past seven and darkness set in. Our street was serene with cars parked in driveways as people returned home. Inside the warmly lit windows, I peered inside taking a snapshot of grand televisions, wide dining tables and a snatch of someone's head or a moving shape. Every house held its own story, stories of sadness, happiness and loneliness. What lives must people be living? Although they were neighbours, they were strangers to us. My pockets were deep and warm, caressing my hands like a lover holding my palm between his hands.
"Come on-" Amjad beckoned me walking steps ahead.
The cold chill sat on the edge of my nose, once again I tugged my hijab around my head.

We walked for a few minutes in silence listening to the sound of cars and conversations passing by. Amjad's shiny black shoes clicked on the ground. His long smart black slim fit coat draped over his sharp black suit hallmarked his office appearance. He chose the smartest shoes, the finest clothes and dressed sharp; something which made me fall in love with him. His black mop of hair trimmed around the sides and thick on his scalp, in winter he'd allow his hair to grow insulating his scalp. The cold air smoked into the sky under the orange glow of the lampposts.
"What are we doing out here, Amjad?" I
"I wanted a quite word."
"What about?"
He continued to walk and every once so often gazed sideward at me.
"That coat, suits you." He complimented.
"Thanks." I mumbled. He contiued to compliment making no impact on me. 
"We need you. Come back, Zohra. Come back to the office."
I looked ahead knowing his eyes were burning into me.
"We? The office is dad's." I corrected.
"Do you remember that house we went to? What was the address?" he pondered.
"Which house?"
"Bloomsbury road."
A smile crept on my lips recalling the memory, but I held back. Instead, I tightened my lips.
"We went to view it and I tried turning the key and it wouldn't turn."
"I looked through the letterbox and found shoes, hats, umbrellas in the hallway." I added.
"I asked the neighbours." Amjad's voice was excited. He investigated the vacant space picturing the day as it played before him.
"They said they hadn't seen the neighbours."
"So you decided to break in." I giggled knowing what was coming next.
"We were inside the house believing it was the right house until your dad rang us and said why we weren't at the property."
Stopping under the lamppost before the green grassy land memories of that crazy day evoked laughter. Me and Amjad broke into a house believing that we gained entry into the correct house as the owner wanted us to sell the house. When dad called us, he was standing in the correct house and we were at the wrong address.
"Your dad was livid. He said he was waiting for us for ten minutes."
"We were at the wrong address. It was number forty two Bloomsbury PARK road, not Bloomsbury Road as we thought."
Amjad let a hearty laughter. "We'd trespassed, broke the front door and harassed the neighbours believing we were in the right place."
Amjad leaned against the lamppost staring at the reflection on the pavement, his eyes transfixed with joy.
"Or when you got your fat hand stuck in the letter box." I recalled.
"Oh Zohra-don't remind me." He concealed his face with his right hand. The hand he used to push through a letterbox believing there was a key dangling. Once he reached out, he couldn't retrieve his hand and it was stuck in the letterbox.
"I had to oil your hand with mum's mustard oil and yank it out." I smiled with glee.
"I can't believe you remembered that."
"How can I forget?"
We continued to walk into the green grassy land on the path under the row of lights talking about the days at the office.
"The office needs you. Come back." He held my arm and stopped me.
"That's another life. I've moved on." There was so much buzzing in my mind I wasn't ready. First Zayn and the flat and then Kash.
"Don't say that." He neared me.
"It's the truth."
"I know you are not happy with Zayn. You deserve better." He leaned into me. I held onto his words waiting for him to admit his mistakes. His eyes were wide and black, those very eyes I peered into accepting him as my husband.
"I took you for granted. You were my other half, you knew exactly what I liked, disliked you knew me inside out."
"Because I idolised you, Amjad." My voice softened punctuated with grief. "I memorised everything you said, everything you touched and everything you liked before you knew I existed."
"That humbles me, it makes me sick that I let you go." He bowed his head.
"No, I left. You betrayed me." I corrected.
"I made a mistake not telling you. You deserved to know about my past."
It frustrated me that he didn't understand. "It wasn't your past. It was your present and future. You were still with her."
"No. I used to meet my son."