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“Ah, yes. There’s a reason for that.”
“And that is?”
“I’m looking for my family.”
She woman’s eyes opened wide. “And they are?”
Sarah’s palms were sweaty with nerves as she slid her newly created passport across the table towards the woman. “They share my surname,” she said, watching as the woman’s polite smile turned into something like astonishment.
Her mouth fell open and then she looked up at Sarah and then back down at the passport again. She closed the passport with a snap and pushed it back to her, shaking her head. “No, there’s been some mistake. This is not possible.”
Sarah’s hand closed over her precious passport. One of only two items in the world which stated her real Arabic name and which proved she belonged to a family.
“What’s not possible?”
The woman had visibly paled, and she rose, her frown lowering. “Who are you really?”
“I am Sarah Al-Barraq. In England, my grandfather changed our name to Albright. But here I’ve been able to locate my original birth certificate, which has my real Arabic name. I assure you I am Sarah Al-Barraq and my grandfather was Ibrahim Al-Barraq. I was born here but had to leave because of the fate of my parents. Have you heard my name before?”
The woman didn’t answer. She was muttering to herself in Arabic and began closing up her desk.
“Please, you must help me. I’ve come so far. I need to find them.” Tears pricked her eyes.
The woman continued closing her computer, collecting her things, and then looked up, muttered a prayer, took a deep breath and turned to face her.
“Of course I know your name. Of course, I will help you. Do you think I wouldn’t help my own cousin?”
It was Sarah’s turn for her mouth to fall open. “Cousin?” she repeated faintly.
The woman walked around the desk to the public side and stood in front of her. “Yes. I am your cousin Amena.” The woman pursed her lips as if she, too, were about to cry, and then with a smothered sound embraced Sarah in a big hug. She stepped away again, her hands on Sarah’s arms, and inspected her face. “I’ve heard so much about your grandfather, and your brave parents, and we always assumed he and you had both died. My parents looked but found no trace of either of you.”
“My grandfather said we had to change our name. He was scared.”
“He was right to be. But, come, let’s go to my—our—family and reunite them with you.” She shook her head. “They will not believe it.”
And they didn’t at first.The shock was too much. But Sarah’s features were definitely shared by the family. From her hazel eyes, delicate bone structure and dark skin, she was identifiably an Al-Barraq. And her passport verified that. And when she began speaking about her grandfather and the little he’d told her of her parents and their fate, any lingering doubts were swept away. The tears began, and an old lady who’d been sitting behind the others, walked forward and embraced her. The tears ran down the folds of her weathered face.
“Your great aunt,” explained her cousin over the loud sobs. “Your grandfather’s sister.”
The old lady felt frail in Sarah’s arms as she held her close, her cheek against the her white hair, as she allowed the fact to sink in that she was embracing her grandfather’s sister. A woman who’d thought her brother had died many years earlier.
The emotional outburst of tears and joy soon gave way to a celebration which saw the women preparing a celebratory feast in her honor. And, around the enormous mahogany table in themain reception room of the large mansion, Sarah got to know who everybody was.
She was surrounded by an extended family—her grandfather’s sisters and their families. She was the only surviving member of her grandfather’s direct line—a line which was royal and which he’d sacrificed for her survival. And yet here she was, sitting amongst her family and welcomed back not only as the granddaughter of a much-beloved leader of their family, but as someone much more—someone with a duty and role to play within the tribe and this filled Sarah with apprehension.
Dinner was accompanied by the recounting of tales about her family—memories which had been hidden for too long. There were tears, hugs, and promises made that Sarah knew would never be broken. She had found her family at last, and she knew nothing would be the same again. It was only much later, as the flames from the fire dwindled away, the children had gone to bed, and dinner had been eaten, that the conversation turned from family stories to politics.
Slowly, with the help of her cousin and others who spoke English well, she learned of the historic tensions between the royal family and their own. And how it had erupted into conflict all those years before when Sarah had been a baby, leading to the death of her parents by Kadar’s father, the king. After her great uncle recounted the sad tale, he concluded by reciting the family’s bloodline from ancient times, ending with her.
She wondered if she’d heard right. She looked at her cousin for confirmation, but the woman simply nodded.
Sarah sat up on her cushions and looked around. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve misunderstood. Are you saying that I am the one remaining person of the true bloodline? That I am a potential leader to unite the tribes east of the mountains?”
There was a murmur of affirmation.
“Yes. That’s exactly right,” her cousin confirmed. “You are not only a much loved member of our family who we’d thought was lost to us, but you are also the hope of not only our family, but of our tribe, and all those east of the mountains.”
“But what can I do? I’m just a school counsellor. I’m no leader.” She looked around, trying to appeal to her newly found family. Surely they couldn’t expect her to take on such a role?
