‘He isn’t a normal kid.’
But Neda was already marching on. Saif felt torn, looking at the little boy having a paddy on the pavement and the tall, confident woman striding ahead of him.
Saif took a pace towards Neda. There was a pause and suddenly, just for a moment, the screaming let up, as Ash glanced up to take in the new situation. Then he resumed, louder. Saif looked pained.
Neda pushed open the door of Annie’s Seaside Kitchen, which dinged loudly.
‘MMM,’ said Neda loudly in English. ‘LOOK AT ALL THESE CAKES.’
This time, the pause in the screeching was much longer. Ibrahim blindly followed Neda. Saif allowed himself another step.
‘What kind of muffin are you going to have, Ibrahim?’
Well, this was too much for any six-year-old to bear. The idea of Ibrahim being allowed to choose a big cake all to himself while he was left out on the pavement was an injustice too far. Ash picked himself up and ran, tearfully, to the door.
Flora was regarding them with a slightly puzzled expression on her face, particularly as Neda was holding the door and blocking the way out for three backpackers and their gigantic backpacks, which were now getting in the way of Mrs Blair’s new shampoo and set which she’d come down to show off, so that was pleasing absolutely nobody.
Then Flora looked through the window and saw the boys – she’d seen them in passing of course, but hadn’t met them officially. She broke into a grin and beckoned them in. And even with Joel’s dire warnings echoing in her ears, she couldn’t help but bring out a couple of lollipops she had secreted away.
‘Welcome,’ she said. ‘Welcome, all of you.’
Ash’s sobs had slowed to the occasional whimper by the time they were all sitting down, and Mrs Blair’s shampoo and set had been patted back into position, but, to Saif’s astonishment, Neda didn’t let up at all.
‘I know how you feel,’ she said, as Isla brought over two flat whites. ‘Wow,’ she added. ‘Thanks!’
Flora was always faintly insulted by the patronising way people reacted to the fact that she sold good coffee – she resented the assumption that everyone who lived in the islands was some kind of hunkering rube who thought instant was a treat.
Neda continued, ‘And I don’t want to lecture, but for the moment, at least, you have to be mother and father to those boys.’
‘You mean tell them off.’
Neda shrugged. ‘Again, it’s up to you.’
‘You say “it’s up to you” when you mean “do as I say”,’ said Saif, smiling.
‘Do I?’ said Neda, biting into an iced finger. ‘Oh my goodness, this is terrific.’ She turned to Ibrahim, who was slouching in his seat and, as usual, staring at the iPad in front of him, then looked back at Saif.
Saif sighed and leaned over. ‘Ibrahim. I need to take your iPad.’
Ibrahim went wide-eyed. ‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘It’s mine.’
‘While we’re in the café.’
‘Until she goes?’
‘She is Neda, please.’
‘Until Neda goes?’
‘Just give it to me now.’
Everyone sat looking tense at the table, except for Ash, who had a bun in one hand and the lollipop in the other and had quite forgotten his bad mood.
‘What lovely boys you are,’ said Neda cheerfully. ‘Now, are you going to show me your school?’
Flora smiled as she watched the boys leave. Saif made them turn and lisp awkward thank yous to her. Ibrahim was his double, she saw. He had the exact same furrowed brow and grave expression on his face. Ash was a beautiful child, with long eyelashes. But both the boys were too thin. She would fix that, she vowed. A few more cheese scones. Ugh, no, she had to make the scones smaller … Oh, why was it so hard?
Ash managed to make it halfway up the hill before collapsing in dramatic fashion and declaring himself utterly exhausted. Neda asked him to say it in English, which to Saif’s amazement he absolutely could. She laughed at his face and said, not to worry, she knew plenty of full-time fathers who also found this kind of thing incredibly tricky, which made Saif relax a little and find his own smile at Ash’s dramatic over-acting, which is why the first time Lorna saw them approaching from the staffroom window, the two boys walking, Ibrahim without his iPad, and the beautiful, tall woman walking next to Saif, her heart dropped right into her boots.
She certainly never made him smile like that, or laugh so his white teeth showed. They were a good-looking couple too, she thought. Who was she? It couldn’t be … It wasn’t as if Saif couldn’t have found a girlfriend, was it? After all, he’d meet someone one day, right? But she had comforted herself so much by thinking that he was just too loyal, too respectful to his wife, to ever …
‘Hello!’ said Saif. He was definitely in a better mood than he had been the last few weeks when he’d been exhausted and strung out, picking up his furious, uncommunicative children, watching with a parental heartbreak Lorna recognised very well as his children were left out of playground games, unpicked, alone in the corner of the school.
Today his face was sunnier, more open, and Ash – was that child walking? Lorna had never seen him on the ground before. She waited for him to try and cling to her as he usually did, but instead – and this stung frightfully – he held the tall woman’s hand.
‘Lorenah. Miss MacLeod,’ said Saif, smiling. ‘This is Neda Okonjo. She’s the social worker who’s helping us … She looked after the boys in Glasgow.’
‘Hello,’ said Lorna, more stiffly than she meant. She hadn’t realised social workers were quite so glamorous these days. Saif wondered why she was being weird.
‘Hello,’ said Neda. ‘Hey, I think you’re doing a great job with the boys.’
Lorna blinked. She, personally, had not been thinking that at all. She’d been worried she was failing them desperately. She couldn’t get them to say a word of English, or join in, or respond to anything.
‘They understand everything we’re saying already!’ said Neda. ‘Great job.’
Lorna frowned. ‘Do they?’
‘Look at Ibrahim,’ said Neda, grinning. The boy immediately flushed and stared at the ground.
‘He’s pretending he doesn’t understand. But he does. He’s a very handsome boy.’
Ibrahim blushed even more. Saif couldn’t believe it.
‘And he’s much better at football than he thinks he is.’
‘You’re a miracle-worker,’ said Lorna.
‘No. You are,’ said Neda. ‘Trust the process. Both of you. Trust how clever the boys are and how much they’re taking in, even when they don’t realise it. Treat them like the other boys. Please. No more carrying.’
Lorna nodded.
‘No letting Ibrahim on computers. If he can manage not to hit anyone – eh, Ibrahim? No hitting?’
Ibrahim shrugged.
‘Let’s make a deal. I bet if you stop it, you’ll be playing football with everyone in a week.’
‘Don’t care.’
‘In English.’
And he did. ‘I don’t care,’ he said, pink to the ears.
‘You don’t have to care,’ said Neda softly. ‘You just need to play.’
And the bell rang, and for once the children disappeared inside the school building on their own, getting caught up in the little stream of boys and girls, getting lost in it – just like normal children going about their day. And Saif and Lorna stared at each other in disbelief.
‘Right,’ said Neda, turning round. ‘Let’s have a look at the home set-up. Don’t worry, I’m just ticking boxes. You’re obviously going to be fine.’
‘You’re amazing,’ said Lorna, glancing back towards her classroom.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you too,’ said Neda and she turned round and marched off down the hill, Saif turning to follow her, in awe, and Lorna reflected that she’d fallen in love with Neda in ten seconds flat, and she didn’t blame Saif in the slightest if he’d just done exactly the same thing.
Chapter Fifty-one