Page 90 of The Mismatch

Laleh stood behind his leg, looking shyly at her mum in the hospital bed. After Ali saw the new babies, gave the appropriate coos, and all the pleasantries were out of the way, he looked at Neda. It was a long, hard look. He had bright blue eyes that bored into hers. Another feature that most Iranians coveted, but he resented.

‘What?’ Neda hissed.

‘Where’s Hossein?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know where your husband is?’

‘I’m tired.’ Neda sighed deeply. She hurt all over. All she wanted was to go home to her own bed and sleep. Here theartificial light shining down on her was too bright, her bed too hard, and there was a draft coming from the air conditioning that made her skin prickle.

Ali hissed. But he didn’t raise his voice, didn’t make a scene, too mindful of Laleh over in the visitor’s seat with her Barbie. She was plaiting her doll’s long blonde hair and talking quietly to herself.

He bent low over his sister, hands on his narrow hips, willing Neda to snap out of her mood. ‘Sister, what’s going on?’

‘Ali, I’mtired. Do you understand? I just gave birth—’

‘Yes,’ he talked over her. ‘And your husband should be here. He should have been here for you then. But you don’t even know where he is. Is he OK?’

Neda laughed humourlessly and, in the process, wet herself a little. ‘He’s fine, don’t worry abouthim.’

‘Neda, what does that mean? You’re not making sense.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Eh?’

‘Please take Laleh home. I need to rest.’

‘Sister …’

‘Brother, he’s with another woman and I don’t knowwhere. I don’t know if he plans on coming back. I knownothing.’ Her insides clenched; she felt ever more aware of her battered physical state. Her breathing was ragged and she felt light-headed. This must have become obvious even to Ali because he handed her the small carton of apple juice he’d brought with him. He knew it was her favourite; it reminded her of the fresh apple juice Maman used to make.

Her eyes burnt, memories of home threatening to resurface, and she couldn’t reminisce about the past, not right now. Slowly, she sipped the drink through the narrow straw.

‘OK. We need to find him,’ Ali said.

‘Thanks for your input, Einstein. I just told you, I don’t know where the bastard is.’

‘He’s yourhusband, Neda.’

‘And? He’s fucking other women.’

‘Sister, don’t talk like that.’ He shook his head, as though he were virginal himself.

‘He is! Everyone seems to know.’ Neda’s voice hitched on the last word, a sob caught in her throat. She sipped the juice and concentrated her gaze on the foot of her bed.

‘I need to have a word with him.’ Even without looking at him Neda could imagine what he was doing, his clenched fists. She almost wanted to laugh. Almost.

‘I’m stuck.’

Her insides felt empty, disconnected. Ali looked frightened, toes tapping anxiously against the floor.

‘Mummy,’ Laleh said from the visitor’s chair. ‘Doesn’t Daddy want to see …’ she paused ‘ … Parvin,’ another pause, ‘ … and … and ….’

‘Amir,’ Ali finished for her.

‘Amir,’ Laleh said slowly, testing the name out loud.