Chapter 31
1279 Words
Chapter 31Khalid boarded the flight to Singapore feeling angry. He was furious, and not against anyone but himself. He had not seen Mark since he had left him at the airport with the officers. Mark had only called him to say that he was going to stay in town for a bit and to have a good flight back to Paris.
Being unable to untie his hands, or unable to contact Talya, drove him nearly crazy. He had tried to send her an email, but got no answer. Next, he tried contacting Aziz. No response. When he finally reached the Hotel de Crillon, nearly 24 hours after leaving Sydney, he rushed to Mrs. Marie Dobonnet’s desk.
“Capitaine!” the good woman exclaimed when she raised her eyes to him. “It is so good to see you’ve made it back.”
That statement was nothing less than puzzling. Khalid was about to speak when Mrs. Dobonnet added, “You know, when your Mr. Flaubert called from Vancouver, I didn’t know what to say. I thought you had been delayed somewhere or worse—you had had an accident.”
“No, Marie, nothing of the sort...”
“But your pilot phoned a couple of times last week. He said to tell you that the Lear is back at Orly. And from these messages, I really didn’t know what to make of it all. I was worried, I can tell you.”
Khalid couldn’t help but smile at the dear lady. “As you can see, I am back and not a scratch on me. I had just been called to make a detour to the States, that’s really all there was to my unexpected absence.”
“Hum, yes, well...” Marie Dobonnet didn’t believe a word of it. “Mr. Flaubert left a telephone message for you, though.”
“Oh? Do you have it or did you leave it in the apartment?”
“No-no, here it is,” said she, taking an envelope out of the desk drawer.
“Thank you,” Khalid replied distractedly, opening the missive quickly. It read:
Don’t worry anymore. Talya is going to be fine. Phone me when you get back.
“Thank you again, Marie,” Khalid said, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way to the elevator.
He hardly took the time to set his carrying case down before picking up the phone and dialling James’s number at the office. He looked at his watch. It was about 10:00AM in Vancouver.
“Carmine Resources, how can I direct your call?” he heard Sabrina, the receptionist say.
“Is James in?” was Khalid’s answer.
“Oh Goodness me,” Sabrina screeched over the line, “Khalid! How are you? Where are you? We’ve been looking for you all over the place. What’s happened? You know about Talya...?”
“Sabrina..., my dear, not so fast... I’ll tell you all about my latest adventure when I get to Vancouver...”
“When...?”
“That, I don’t know..., but would you mind if I talked to James now?” It was good to hear such a bubbly, friendly voice at the other end of the line. It abated some of Khalid’s inner irritation.
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry. Let me transfer you.”
Khalid heard the click, and within seconds, James was on the phone.
“Khalid! At long last. Where have you been? Obviously you got the message I left at the Crillon...”
“Yes, I did...”
“Well then, let me tell you... this is so unbelievable...”
“James... please....”
“Okay..., here it is; Talya has turned the corner. She apparently watched a TV program last week about some invalid woman who had made life impossible for her husband... Anyway, the next day, she finally got out of the apartment on her own and went shopping.”
“You don’t say!” Khalid couldn’t grasp the meaning of that story or its resulting effect immediately. “Does that mean she’s feeling like herself again? What about her legs—any progress?”
“No, not yet. But now that she’ll be trying and be more positive about everything, there is hope yet.”
Still perplexed and unconvinced, Khalid sounded somewhat reserved. “That’s great news, James. I really wish I could see her...”
“Then why don’t you? I thought, we all thought, you were on your way here actually. What happened to you? Did Fred send you somewhere?”
“You could say that...”
“Alright, I hear you. You can’t talk about it, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But, I think you should know that I spoke to Fred myself. I was wondering why you didn’t show up last Wednesday and when I found out that you had cancelled your reservations at the Sands, I called him.”
“Did he say anything...?”
“Nothing, except that he didn’t know where you were and that he would look into it. That’s all.”
“I see.” Khalid was unwillingly terse, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell James why he had made such a fool of himself in running after Isaac—or whatever his name was.
“Okay, now that you’re up-to-date, the question is when can we expect you?”
“I wish I could be in Vancouver tomorrow, but at this point, I have no idea when I will cross the Atlantic again.”
That statement took James aback. He had to pause before he could answer. Khalid’s voice was that of a man who had come at the end of his tether. “Okay, Khalid. You must be tired. Maybe you could call me again... soon... I hope.”
“I’ll do that,” Khalid replied evasively. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ll be able to write to you now. While I was in the States... I bought a new laptop... and if you wouldn’t mind, I will email you.” This childish remark came out of his mouth and he regretted having said it the moment he uttered the words. To admit that he was thrilled with his acquisition was so out of character for him. Being happy about buying something as common these days as a computer, put him among the uneducated people of this world, he thought. He was annoyed with himself.
“Good! Glad to hear it.” James paused again. “I better let you get on with whatever you were doing. Just keep in touch, okay?”
“I’ll do that, yes, of course...”
When Khalid hung up, he went to sit in front of the fireplace. He was exhausted, mentally and emotionally. The enormity of his error dawned on him; it crept inside his brain as if a disease had slowly invaded his mind. He couldn’t believe what he had done. He had gone through this malefic plan on the spur of the moment. Although guided by the words of Mr. Badawee, he was the one who had built this whole castle of cards—a vengeful, evil construction of deceptions that he thought would appease his anger—that had come crashing at his feet in Sydney.
He got up, went to the phone again, picked up the receiver hesitantly at first, but then more decisively dialled Pierre Masson’s number.
“Pierre?” he said as soon as the pilot said hello.
“Ah, Khalid, you’ve made it back. How was your stay in Canada?”
“Well..., it was a bit eventful, but interesting, shall we say.” Khalid wanted to bury his Australian jaunt among the memories to be forgotten as soon as possible.
“Good. Are we going somewhere else then? Because you’re not calling just to say you’re back, I guess.”
That remark told Khalid that he had ignored the friendship he had developed between him and Pierre for too long. “Yes. Actually, I’d like to go back to Canada. Say, by the end of the week. Could you be ready by then?”
“No problem. Are we going back to Ottawa?”
“No, not this time, Pierre. We’ll stop over in Montreal and then go on to Vancouver as originally planned.”
“Sounds good...” Pierre hesitated. “Would you want to take the controls this time? It’s been some time since you’ve put in a few hours.”
“Yes, I think I will. And you’re right, I need to put in the hours.”
“Do you want to take a dry run during the week then?”
“Do you think that’s necessary?”
“Yes, Khalid, I do. You’ve been away for months now, so I think it’s absolutely necessary, yes.” The firmness in the pilot’s voice didn’t escape Khalid’s notice.
“All right then, let me know when.”
“I’ll call you as soon as we’re ready.”
Throughout this short conversation, Khalid remembered the words of his uncle; “If you do see her, give her my regards. What she suffered is my fault.” Not only did the wish demonstrated that his family was not holding any grudges against Talya, but it also gave Khalid pause. Why was his uncle saying what she suffered was his fault—a question that bothered him and another reason to go to Talya.
- Writer
