The Reckoning

Ashraf sat at his desk. Through the open window, the setting sun’s gold rays danced across his laptop, casting an orange hue over everything they touched. He glanced outside where the children and Saira were crouched, playing in the garden. A gentle breeze blew across the open expanse. The thin blades of grass wavered in the wind.

‘Time to get ready for dinner kids,’ Saira declared, standing, and clapping and rubbing her soiled covered hands together. ‘Okay Mum’, the children said in unison as they stood before running to the main door, followed by their tired Mother.

Ashraf’s gaze returned to his laptop, his lips curling into a smile. An email had dropped into his mailbox. Ashraf itched his greying beard with his free hand as he clicked to open the mail icon. His eyes widened. His pulse rate quickened. It was from Jerome. Why? How? Where did Jerome even get his email address?

His eyes flickered across the email quickly.

It read ‘Robert’s dead. The Funeral is on Friday. We need to meet and find the notes before anyone else does, Jerome.’

Ashraf’s hand scrunched into a fist, his elbow pressing into his desk. He lowered his head, the forehead resting in the crevice between his knuckles. His stomach lurched. His eyes squeezed shut. It felt like an earthquake was coming and there was nothing he could do but wait. Everything seemed to be collapsing around him, closing in; there was nowhere to go.

‘What’s up with you Mr?’

Ashraf looked up. Saira stood before him, a hand on her hip, an eyebrow cocked and a smirk on her face. ‘We need to return to Bracken wood. Robert’s dead and his funeral’s on Friday,’ he said.

The colour drained from her face. ‘We-we can leave the kids with my sister,’ Saira stuttered, ‘I’ll pack my bags.’

With that, she turned on her heel and was gone from the room.

Ashraf looked back at the email. Salim’s anguished cries ricocheted around his addled mind, growing louder and louder. Salim’s contorted face floated before him. Ashraf could still remember his friend reach up with his empty hands, grasping thin air, before he fell. Ashraf shook his head to silence the cacophony of the cries in his mind. He had to book the flight tickets. They had to reach before Friday.

A haphazard assortment of clothes was strewn across the bed. Saira was shoving some into the bag. She could not focus. Fragmented memories were jangling around her head. She could not make sense of it. She did not know what was going to happen. It had taken so long to rebuild her fractured life and move on from that night. But now Robert was dead. And they had to return to Bracken wood. Everything felt like it was imploding around her. There was no escape.

What if the children found out? How would she be able to look them in the eye? Saira did not know. She knew nothing. Once the bag was filled to the brim, she zipped it up. Then she stepped back from the bed. Saira took a deep breath. Then another. She had to keep everything from unravelling. She had to be calm. The hammering in her chest quietened as her racing heart slowed down steadily.

Saira knew the impact this must have had on Ashraf. If they were to return from Bracken wood with the pieces of their lives still intact, she had to support him and approach the situation logically. This weekend threatened to throw their lives into disarray. But Saira could not allow the nightmares to return to consume her.