22

I feel lighter today. The sun has joy in it, it’s not oppressive like it has been, and I understand why. The lie I have lived with will soon be out in the open. The khilafa can judge me and I can stop judging myself.

No word from Umm Karam, not yet, but then she isn’t at my beck and call. There are processes.

When I arrive at the school there’s one brother on duty outside but the one who was guarding the room inside has gone. He’s not with the women either, and the moment I appear one of them comes at me, Niran’s mother, shouting and crying and shaking her head. She holds on to me and hangs there and in my exhaustion I have to push her off.

‘Niran,’ she says. ‘Please. Niran.’

‘Where is she?’

But the woman is beside herself and all she can do is hold her hands up and together, like she’s praying.

‘They took her,’ says Besma.

From the corridor I shout to the guard at the front but he doesn’t hear me or he chooses not to answer. I try the next door along, the bathroom, barely noticing the stench, but there’s no one there. Beyond that there’s the storeroom with all the old clothes and I don’t expect to find her there either but when I open the door there she is, in the corner with her dress off, tiny and naked, powerless, and in front of her is the brother, crouching down to her level with his hand out touching her cheek.

I stop thinking. I’m too tired and too wired to think. I shout at him to get away from her but he ignores me, like I’m simply not there. I run to him and push him so he loses his balance and he falls forward, reaching out with his hand. His gun is on the floor beside him and I grab it. I point it at him and for a moment I’m just staring at the twisted filthy desire in his face and the innocent fear in hers. He holds up one hand, regains his footing, then holds up both and starts to stand.

‘You get the fuck away from her.’

The surprise has gone from his face and he’s cocked his head to one side and he’s grinning with crooked teeth behind his scraggy beard. His eyes are wide and swimming with something like excitement. Blue eyes that don’t fit the rest of him. I don’t know what it is men feel when they’re like this.

If I shot him now surely he would go to hell. War or no war. Fortress or not. In that moment I hate his face and his emptiness and his distance from the faith and I see no reason why he should survive, but that’s not my judgement to make and somehow I stop myself.

Niran wasn’t crying when I came in but she is now and it makes me come to. I start thinking about how on earth I’m going to get us both out of this.

I motion with the gun for him to move towards the door and at the same time I circle round to be by Niran, who shrinks from me as I come close. I stoop down and hand her her dress, without taking my eyes off the brother.

Brother. He is not worthy of the name.

He skulks round, hands half up.

‘Above your head,’ I tell him, and slowly he raises them.

‘Okay, stop. Stop.’ I breathe, try to keep calm. The only hope I have is that he doesn’t know very much. The khilafa is so well organized, but different parts don’t always talk to each other.

‘You know how old she is?’

He grins harder, raises his eyebrows like the whole thing is a joke.

‘Do you?’

He shrugs, says he doesn’t know.

‘She is eight. Eight years old.’

‘Never too young,’ he says.

‘She is not for you.’

‘Will bring me closer to God.’

His biggest grin yet. So I gamble.

‘She is not yours. She is being kept for Borz.’

The grin stays on his face but his eyes lose some of their bullshit, so I carry on.

‘You know Borz? Good. When she is nine he will marry her. She is intended for him and for no other. If you touch her again, you come in the same room, you even fucking look at her I will tell him you think your claim greater than his, and you can settle it with him. Understand? And I will pay your friend outside to tell me if you do.’

He’s still grinning, but like a fool grins.

‘Out. Go!’

He holds out his hand for his gun.

‘No. Tell your commander you had your gun taken from you by Borz’s wife.’

Now his face drops. I see the fear go right in, the fear this pig likes to sow in others.

‘That’s right. I’m his wife. Don’t fuck with me and maybe I won’t fuck with you. Now go.’

He’s so different now, just a little man with a beard and a hole where his soul should be. I watch him go and crouch down in front of Niran.

‘It will be okay,’ I say as I hold her arms and look right in her eyes, and she shrinks away. I no longer know how I can help these people.