Chapter 21

I was on a high for the rest of that week. I was back at my favourite place, doing my favourite thing. Life was perfect again!

I was in such good spirits that I didn’t even protest when Faati asked me to go over to help her make dessert for a dawat.

“It’s next door. At Bilal’s house,” she told me over the phone, “Aunty Nasima has kept a huge braai to celebrate Bilal getting well and Nabeel becoming a hafiz. So she’s combining two events into one. She asked mum to help her out and mum nicely said that Faati will make the desserts. And not just one type. Two types and two dishes each. Why does everyone think of me as Super Faati? I mean, I know I’m awesome and people can’t do without me but feel sorry for me also man! Superwoman also needs rest hey!”

I started laughing. “Well, that’s the consequences of being Superwoman. Now if you were plain and simple Nadia like me no one would bother you.”

“You wouldn’t remain plain and simple Nadia if people found out you’re the mystery saviour,” Faati lowered her voice conspiratorially, “you’d become a celebrity then babe! You’d even leave me in the dust. You’d become famous. A real Superwoman!”

“There she goes again,” I sighed dramatically, “you keep the Superwoman title, my dear. I’ll remain plain and simple Nadia. I prefer it this way.”

“I’ve never met a woman more stubborn than this one,” Faati muttered, “anyways, you’ll come neh? I don’t even know what I’ll make.”

“Well, you’re the expert here but I’ll come help you out if you want,” I replied.

“Yayy, thanks babe! You’re a gem,” Faati blew kisses down the phone.

“I know I am,” I replied demurely.

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“Well? What are we making?” I asked Faati when I walked into her house on Saturday. The braai was that night and Faati had left everything to the last minute as usual.

“Malva Pudding and Oreo Mousse,” Faati said with flourish.

“My favourite desserts…to eat!” I grinned, “I’ve never made them though. Give me the easy stuff to do. I don’t want your desserts to flop because of me.”

“Don’t worry, they’re very simple to make. You start with the Oreo Mousse. Here’s the recipe. See, only few steps and it’s done. I’ve removed all the ingredients here…”

We worked together, moving around each other in synchrony. I liked working with Faati because she was so easy to work with…and very patient, which was surprising considering her usual brisk state. But she loved cooking/baking and loved teaching whoever she could…which included me.

Aunty Amina was also in the kitchen, making salads and mini pizzas. I was the helping hand, helping Faati and her mum in turn.

“Mmm, smells wonderful,” Aunty Nasima said, walking in with an armful of dishes, “here Amina, set the salads in here and put the pizzas here. Then I won’t get confused by everyone’s different dishes.”

“Yeah, good idea. Here, Nadia, can you set the salads for me in here please?”

“Sure,” I said, taking the dishes from Aunty Nasima.

“Have you also come to help, Nadia?” Aunty Nasima asked, smiling at me.

“Jee, Faati called me over so I came. I’m just helping out wherever I can,” I replied, smiling back.

“So nice. Friends helping each other. Nadia, you also come to the dawat tonight. Come with Faati, okay?”

“Errrr,” I began, at a loss of how to respond.

“Cool, Aunty Nasima. We’ll come together, don’t worry,” Faati responded enthusiastically from behind me.

“Good, see you then,” Aunty Nasima smiled at us and walked out.

“Silly, how could you accept on behalf of me?” I hissed to Faati the moment Aunty Nasima was gone, “I haven’t even asked my parents. You know how they are when it comes to night dawats!”

“Don’t worry, ma, I’ll phone and let them know,” Aunty Amina said, smiling at me reassuringly, “I’m sure they won’t refuse if I’m also there.”

I wasn’t so sure about that but I smiled and nodded. But I gave Faati a very dark look indeed when Aunty Amina wasn’t looking…which she returned with a sweet smile.

I didn’t know how my parents really felt but they said yes to Aunty Amina so it was sorted. I was going for the braai tonight.

“I don’t even have any clothes to wear!” I groaned to Faati later on, “I’ll have to go home and change.”

“Uh uh. If you go you’ll never come back. I know you and your parents too well,” Faati said, “wear one of my abayas. Or you can wear a fancy dress. After all it’s at Bilal’s house. Bilal will be there. He’ll see you and go gaga…”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop dreaming and show me your abayas.”

I purposely chose one of the plainest and loosest abayas I could find, something Faati incessantly grumbled over and tried to get me to change.

“Most of your abayas are fitted like dresses and I’m not wearing a dress to the dawat,” I said firmly, “it defeats the whole purpose of wearing an abaya.”

“Eeh, fine. Here, at least wear this fancy hijab so you don’t look like you’re going to a funeral instead of a dawat!”

“Our clothing at a funeral and a dawat shouldn’t differ,” I said pointedly. Then I grinned and took the hijab, “fine, I’ll wear this. Just to make you happy.”

“You might make Bilal more happy than me,” Faati winked.

I chucked the hijab at her. “That’s it! I’m not wearing it. Give me a plain black hijab.”

Faati laughed and caught it deftly, draping it around my shoulders. “I’m joking man. Can’t even joke with some people nowadays,” she sighed and gave me a slight push, “go get ready otherwise we’ll be late!”

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The dawat house was bustling by the time we went. Tents had been put up in the garden, one for men and one for women. We took the desserts, salads and pizzas into the house and busied ourselves in helping out wherever we could. We walked up and down dishing out, serving the older women, refilling where needed.

“I’m starving,” I whispered to Faati after a while, “and my feet are killing me. Can we sit down now?”

“Yeah, man, so are mine,” Faati groaned, “come, let’s dish out for ourselves and sit down.”

We went to get food from the buffet table. I was helping myself to t-bone when Faati nudged me.

“Look…loverboy is right there,” she whispered, grinning.

I automatically looked at where Bilal stood, talking to his friends. Then I looked at Faati and rolled my eyes.

“Stop calling him that. Someone will hear and get the wrong meaning,” I whispered back.

“He looks so well now neh. Back to normal. But guess what. He’s still looking for his mystery saviour. That’s what Tahir said. I wonder how long he’ll keep looking for huh,” Faati said, leaning closer to me.

“He’ll give up eventually and everyone will forget. Full stop.” I added a chicken piece in my plate then moved onto the salads.

“But why man? What’s the fun in that? I still say walk up to him and say it. Bilal my dear, I’m your mystery saviour. I saved your life. And then watch the fireworks explode,” Faati laughed, helping herself to chicken.

I rolled my eyes and turned away to get a drink.

“What???” I heard a screech behind me, “Nadia, you saved Bilal’s life??? It was you???”

My heart stopped. It felt like a deathly silence fell on the crowd….tense, complete silence.

Slowly, slowly I turned around. My eyes first met Faati’s horrified ones, followed by what seemed like dozens of eager, curious gazes. Every single pair of eyes were trained on me, making me feel like a deer caught in blinding headlights. It confirmed my worst fear.

Every.single.person.in.the.dawat.had.heard.