AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ava took a large gulp of her wine. She swallowed and Noah imagined the dry, cool liquid lining her throat and giving her courage as the alcohol coursed through her body.
‘Did I ever tell you I developed my love of history from my father? He was a history teacher and would often take me to the museum on the weekends. One time there was a special Egyptian exhibit with mummies and artefacts and original items on loan from the Cairo Museum. That was it. The pivotal moment my life changed. I was hooked and from that day I wanted to become the person that discovered these amazing artefacts and learned about these ancient civilisations. I wanted to know everything. It was that day I vowed to become an archaeologist.’
Okay, this was going somewhere he didn’t expect. Ava’s gaze went to the far reaches of the deck. He could tell she was reliving that special day. A hot breeze blew and she rubbed her bare arms.
‘After I finished my studies in Tasmania, I moved to London hellbent on making my way to Egypt, realising my dream. My bags were packed before I’d even graduated. If I had to wait to get to Egypt, London was the steppingstone. The lure of the bright city lights, the furious pace of the place, being in a city that never slept. It attracted me with so much excitement. I needed money and a job and I took whatever I could at first, always thinking that one day I’d be on a dig site. But then I found the perfect position at the British Museum. I shared a house with a group of people, one of them became a good friend, and I ingratiated myself into the antipodean lifestyle in London. I absolutely loved my time there.’
Noah guzzled his own wine and took a few mouthfuls of the steaming hot lasagne to avoid the look of wonder in Ava’s eyes; at what was, a life in one of the largest, busiest cities in the world. And nothing like here.
She nibbled on the tiniest portion of food at the end of her fork. ‘I worked in the Sudanese and Egyptian department with relics and antiquities. I dreamed of specialising in Egyptology, but that was a big jump with no experience, so at the time a dig site in Egypt felt impossible. In retrospect I should have made it happen. Instead, I got complacent and enjoyed London too much. I thought the museum was a wonderful compromise. Each day I surrounded myself with precious items and whilst they might have already been discovered, there was still so much to learn. I was often in charge of new displays of objects that required cataloguing and to record its history. On other days I was in the inner sanctum of the back rooms with incredible machines to perform X-rays and scientific research into what might be inside a discovered mummy. So, there was still the thrill of discovery in many ways.’
Now she had a glassy, far-away look in her eye, of a time past.
‘I’d been working for about twelve months and was at a function at Claridge’s. It’s an expensive and wealthy venue, exclusive for those that can afford its luxury. The owners were a wealthy Egyptian family who were significant benefactors of the museum and donated large sums of money. And at this one event, I met Henry. A son of the wealthy family of benefactors. Henry was Egyptian but living in London, living an English lifestyle. To me, he was English. We fell in love, and within the next twelve months we were married. It was a whirlwind, wonderful romance. The year we dated was the best time of my life. We saw and did so many things, it was incredible, a dream. I wish I’d realised that at the time, perhaps it was a dream, perhaps it wasn’t real.’
‘We had a large and lavish wedding at Claridge’s; a wedding girls dream of—beautiful and extravagant flowers, a designer wedding dress, specialty food and wines, the best musicians and my parents and brother flew in from Australia. They were the only people I knew at my own wedding. His family paid for it and controlled the guest list. It was an A-list of important people, but none of that mattered to me. I was marrying the man I loved.’
That dreamy looks on her face was killing him. It was whimsical and distant, and made him feel like nothing else that ever happened in her life would live up to those memories. He focused his gaze on his drink, slipped his fingers up and down the moist stem of the glass.
‘We settled into life in London, and I continued to work and enjoy myself. Our move to Cairo was gradual but in retrospect very quick. He said his family needed him at home, his father was unwell, his mother was asking for him and soon, it became quite urgent that we visit. At first, I thought it was a visit. And of course, this was the country I’d always dreamed of visiting, so I was excited. But once we arrived, my entire world changed. He changed. It became about his family; they started making the decisions. Another relative was chosen to manage the business affairs in London, Henry was no longer required there. It was clear his family wanted him—us—to remain in Egypt. But then it was no longer a choice, it no longer felt temporary, and we were suddenly staying.’
‘Henry placated me, told me I could finally do the dig work I’d always dreamed of. Then when that didn’t happen, I was told I could work in the Cairo Museum, at the coalface of discovery and exhibits of the largest collection of Egyptian antiquities in the world. That changed too, and I was told I could oversee another, smaller museum. In fact, that was the family collection and it wasn’t a museum at all. By then I was pregnant with Ish, and work became impossible. I gave birth to a son who was revered because he would grow into an important man of the family. By contrast, I became invisible. There were so many rules: I was forced to wear traditional dress and in public, I was forced to cover myself for modesty. I was not allowed to wear makeup. I was not permitted to talk to people outside of the family without my husband’s permission.’
‘Each new day the rules seemed to grow until I was unable, as an independent free-thinking woman, to make any decisions for myself. I probably could have, would have endured that for the sake of my marriage, but I couldn’t allow my son to grow up in a culture where his life as a toddler was considered more important than mine as an adult woman. That he was allowed to be educated, whilst his female cousins and any other woman in the family was relegated to indoors and forbidden reading material or to educate themselves. That our lives were controlled, but his was not. And that would have only worsened as he grew older. I could not, will not ever permit him to be that sort of man. The sort of man that my husband became in his home country. I became a vessel for having children and I knew eventually my enthusiasm for life would be whittled away until it had disappeared and I, as a woman, had disappeared too.’
‘And there was constant pressure for me to convert to their religion. And worse, there was polygamy. Whilst not a common custom anymore, it was still prevalent. Henry resisted, but I dreaded, thought, in time, that would have been inevitable, too and something he would have been unable to refuse if his father commanded it.’ Ava shivered and he watched the line of bumps raise along her arms and the hairs stand up.
Noah grasped her closest hand. A sign of solidarity and support. It sounded truly horrible and untenable for any woman to live like that. He was aware of these controlling places, saw and read the news but had never heard it from a first-hand account.
Giggles drifted outside through the crack in the sliding door. The glow of the television lit up the living area inside where Emily and Duke sat watching cartoons, innocent, and child-like. She must have caught his glare and turned her head to stare.
‘His real name is Ismail. It wasn’t my first choice but satisfied his family being culturally and religiously appropriate. Duke is his middle name and we thought when we moved here it would be easier for people to pronounce but it was tricky because I never remembered to call him by that name and he didn’t answer to it, either.’
‘What’s, um, is your real name Ava Montgomery?’
‘Yes, but it’s my maiden name not my married name.’
Okay. Made sense. But he had to ask. ‘He, Henry wasn’t abusive to you, was he? Didn’t hurt you?’
‘Oh, he hurt me alright, but he wasn’t physically violent. He betrayed my trust and turned into a man I didn’t recognise, who didn’t stand up for me and my rights as his wife and the mother of our child. Made me complicit in a relationship I had never agreed to. Treated me as if I didn’t exist once we were in his homeland. And, for a short time, I allowed it to happen. I was in such shock, I wasn’t sure I quite understood what was going on. You know how things appear so obvious, but you think they cannot be what you imagine, it can’t possibly be true?’
No, he didn’t think he did, but, okay, maybe he did. One day, his wife loved him and their life in the country, and the next she didn’t. He didn’t change, his wife did. But he guessed, that is exactly what Ava described; her husband changed and she was placed into a compromising position. But his example was different, wasn’t it?
‘But how did you leave? That must have been difficult?’
‘Yes. If not for Jamila, my mother-in-law. I honestly think I’d still be stuck there, desperate to flee. She was much worse off than me but Jamila came from a similar Arab family. She, too, was given reassurances, promises that were never kept. She was powerless. All women in this family are powerless. Jamila became aware of how her husband was treating his older daughters, children from previous marriages. This was the turning point for her. They were young woman desperate to get out, to live a more liberated and free life. And they tried. Two of them escaped, literally ran for their lives in elaborate plots to leave the country. They were caught and punished. Jamila didn’t like how they were treated afterwards. Couldn’t tolerate such behaviour. If her husband was capable of that … doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Ava bowed her head as if the memories were too painful. ‘She feared for the safety of those women and her own children. She has a son and a daughter.’
‘She hatched her own plan to get out and begged me to run, too.’ She looked at him then. ‘Do you understand, Noah, how bad it was that we were prepared to risk our lives to flee?’ Noah listened to the story transfixed, and only offered a murmur of support. ‘She helped me. Without her, I was helpless.’
‘And your husband let you go?’
‘Oh, no, he would never. He didn’t know until we were gone.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
With a sharp, shooting pang to his chest, Noah realised. How could he have been so stupid?
Jumping up too fast, the glass slipped from his hand and smashed to the deck and shattered with jagged shards scattering across the flooring.
