For the Love of God and the Arab Rising Read online

  Chapter One: Back home at last. Sunday has just passed by with me sat in front of the TV and the evening has turned into a brisk and wet November evening. Outside, the sound of granite stone chips being ground into each other tells me Cat’s car has just pulled up onto the drive way and moments later she breezes through the front door of our cottage. She is her normal boundless self, with no obvious limits to her energy. I instantly come to life as my friend, lover and soul mate greets me with a beaming smile which is immediately followed by a generous kiss. Forever friends, forever lovers; we hug tightly, reigniting our bond of love and friendship. It’s as if she never left. Her bag is heavy, but I do not even notice. She looks fresh, healthy and relaxed; which is more than I can say about myself. We chat about her trip and how her parents are keeping. They are both in their seventies now and as we all know, the years roll by with little conscience. Cat makes a point of visiting every six months or so, it’s important for her to spend time at home, her family home: on the Island of South Uist in the Outer Hebrides. She is one of five children, robust and hardy; this is, I am sure, why she is so forth right. If you are from a large family and don’t speak up, you don’t get heard. And believe me, if Cat has something to say, she will say it: to your face. She is 5ft 10, with a slim and athletic figure. Her whole essence is confident, strong and sexy. I wouldn’t say she was pretty though: her tom boy mentality combined with her strong and vibrant facial features is enough to send most people scuttling into a shell of compliance and respect; her long strawberry blond hair softening the overall effect.

  We have been together for 10 yrs now and we live in a quiet suburban village located in North Kent. When it’s not raining, the birds sing and the views are an expanse of green grass, bushes and trees. The area is peaceful, tranquil even, and oozes Victorian charm; it’s a lovely place to live. Strolling through the village on a summer evening is a joy to behold, you feel safe and confident that any encounter will be polite and friendly. People know us and have the time to stop and chat. Both Cat and I work in the city, so living in the green belt ensures a quick and easy commute. Cat has had a long journey and I have just enjoyed a week of being bone idle to be frank. So whilst Cat chats and natters, I prep some veg, take the meat out of the fridge, and start to cook dinner. The pan sizzles and pops as I throw in the onions and mincemeat. She sinks into the sofa, lets out a big sigh, grabs the remote control and watches TV for a moment. As any long term partner will tell you, they know when something is wrong, and Cat notices that I am remarkably quiet considering she has just arrived home. So a few moments later whilst dicing the veg, my senses tell me she has entered the kitchen; her arms then entwine my waist and she nuzzles into my neck. To savour her warmth and scent is like nothing else in my life, for that moment in time calmness washes over me. ‘What’s up darling’? She starts to push me for an answer, in that gentle but persistent manner; that even though you resist, you know from the start that you will end up giving out all the information eventually. It’s that game we all play: when you want to tell someone something but you know there will be a consequence, so you delay the critical moment. ‘Oh. Nothing much’ She moves away and I hear the fridge open. The cutlery draw rattles and a cork promptly pops. The sudden promise of alcohol registers with my sixth sense immediately; I can feel my resistance fading fast. I know how Cat pours wine; the bottle is held high, at least 2 to 3 inches from the glass and at exactly 45 degrees. The wine sloshes around the glass as if to prove my point; and then, once calm and serene, appears over my shoulder. ‘Here you are darling’. ‘Thanks love’. And then her arms reach around my waist once more and she nibbles my ear, which is quickly followed by a gentle kiss on the neck. I do not respond, but slowly place my wine on the side and carry on dicing the veg. ‘Come on darling; tell me, what’s up’? We have a 2 week holiday to the United States scheduled for the first week in December, and at the moment everything revolves around this trip of a lifetime. ‘Are you OK Steve’?

  Cat strokes my back to sooth the stress and encourage me to talk. Turning round to face her; she can see the worry on my face. ‘Well not really love, you know that business deal I was doing with Ray of East Ham engineering? In that he was awarded the job to install two air conditioning units in the plant room and in return, they paid for our flights and hotel rooms to New York.’ ‘Yes babe, and?’ ‘His boss has cancelled the bookings because I gave the 3rd unit to another company’. ‘What! Why has he done that?’ ‘I know why, because he’s a bloody idiot that’s why. He has completed the work and has invoiced our company £55K. He says the deal was for the flights etc as long as he got the 3rd unit, which is another £25K’. ‘But you and I know that was not the agreement’. Cat is now in shock, recoiling to the rear of the kitchen. She has told all and sundry that we are going to America and her street cred has gone right out the window. Don’t worry, I tell her. We can still go because of the 10K that I made from the other deal. ‘Just don’t worry, everything will work out fine’.