LIZZIE'S WORLD: Waiting for an update

Liz is wondering if Steve has finally told Fatma his news, and what her reaction is to it. Will information be forthcoming? ILLUSTRATION| JOSEPH NGARI

What you need to know:

  • I drive to work with one ear listening out for my ring tone and the other one noting the sounds of the traffic around me. But when I get to the office, my phone is still dead silent.
  • “How’s Louise?” Ciru asks when I walk in. I tell her the news rather absentmindedly. I am starting to worry furiously about Fatma so my mind is not really here.

Almost immediately I hang up the phone from my call with Mariam, it starts ringing again. I look at the display; it’s Fatma. Already? Has Steve already broken the news before they have even had their meal yet? I pick up, braced for what will undoubtedly be one of the hardest conversations of my life.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry to bother you like this but I was wondering what was the name of that restaurant near your place? The one we had dinner at the other day with all the girls? Steve messed up again and forgot to make reservations at the place he wanted to take me.” Fatma asks me. She doesn’t sound at all worried or upset. In fact, she sounds positively upbeat. I give her the name of the place.

“How come Steve forgot if this is such an important occasion?” I ask her.

“Says he was snowed under today, it’s been a rough one at work. But you know how these men are – can’t organize a single thing to save their lives.” We both laugh. Yea, busy day at work indeed, I think to myself.

“Well, call me any time if you need anything. Any time at all,” I say to her.

“Yes, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. I mean, it’s just a meal with my man, not anything groundbreaking,” she replies. I nod a nod of awareness that this is, indeed, going to be something groundbreaking, only she doesn’t know it yet. Then I wish her all the best for her evening and hang up to enjoy my glass of wine and some small snippets of a reality show I happen upon as I am channel surfing.

I am suddenly overcome by fatigue; it’s been a long day. I take a deep yawn and close my eyes for what seems like a few minutes, but when I open them again, two hours have passed and it is now 10pm. I pick up my phone quickly to look at it just in case I have missed a call from Fatma, but there’s nothing. Not even a message. I guess she’ll call when she’s ready. I get up and get ready for bed and when I hop in, it’s only a few seconds before I am in dreamland.

The next morning the first thing I do – once again – is check my phone. Again, nothing. I hope Fatma is alright, I think to myself. I surf the internet for a few minutes and land on Fatma’s Facebook page. Her last post was from last night, about two or so hours after our last conversation. ‘Dinner with bae!’ it proclaims, above a picture of a very nice-looking plate of steak and mashed potatoes. There’s a bunch of ‘likes’ underneath the picture and I add mine to them, but I don’t bother to read the comments. Fatma doesn’t post much on Facebook so I know that I am not likely to glean anything more from it.

I get up and get ready for work, all with thoughts of different permutations going through my mind. What if what he said upset her so much that she has shut down and gone into depression? What if she was angry enough to do something really bad and now she’s on the run? What if she’s done something to herself?? Oh no! That would be unthinkable! I am almost overwhelmed by the urge to pick up the phone and call her to check that she is alright, but I tell myself that if indeed something was wrong, I would be the first person she calls.

ONE EAR LISTENING

I drive to work with one ear listening out for my ring tone and the other one noting the sounds of the traffic around me. But when I get to the office, my phone is still dead silent. “How’s Louise?” Ciru asks when I walk in. I tell her the news rather absentmindedly. I am starting to worry furiously about Fatma so my mind is not really here.

Once in my office, I give in to the urge to call her. There is no response, but at least her phone is ringing. That means she hasn’t yet killed Steve and ran off to another country and changed her identity, haha! I laugh to myself. But I am really worried. So next I call her office.

“She called in and said she would be late today, she’s passing by the hospital,” her PA tells me.

“But did she sound ok?” I ask.

“Yes, why? Is there something we should be worried about?”

“Absolutely not,” I say as brightly and confidently as I can. Then I hang up quickly before I say more than I intend to.

Oh, dear Fatma. What is going on with you?!