Allegiance Read Free

attractive: tall, elegant, her long black hair set back off her face. For the first time since he had arrived in Durban he felt unease about his own appearance. While she was turned away he quickly ran his hand through his hair and buttoned his shirt to the top button. The man at the railway shed had told him she felt sorry for the refugees; often they were highly skilled and were useful citizens in the countries of their birth. They were called names and taunted and mistreated at every turn when they arrived in South Africa. Unwelcome and unwanted. Hers was a humanitarian effort; it wasn’t about the money. He was told she even brought sandwiches to her office every day and fed the women and children who arrived hungry and with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This is what Allah would have expected from her.
    ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ Her voice was soft, pensive.
    ‘Salaam,’ he said.
    ‘Salaam. Please take a seat, sir; I’ll be with you in a minute,’ and she exited to the back room with a file.
    He took the minute to reflect on what he had to do. This was the first small step he had to take and he had to put all his preconceived ideas and emotions aside. Once he’d refocused on the goal, he felt his shoulders relax. Mariam returned.
    ‘Sorry about that. I’m all yours.’
    He smiled. That she would be. ‘Arshad Tanveer. Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I was told you could help me with my papers.’
    Tanveer noticed an almost imperceptible frown creasing the otherwise flawless skin of her forehead. ‘Of course,’ she said, opening a file on the desk without looking up. ‘When did you arrive and what papers do you need? You realise the Refugee Centre is up the road?’
    Tanveer smiled and leaned on the table, folding his arms. ‘I was there. They sent me here. They can’t help me. I don’t have a status. I was hoping you could change that.’
    Mariam shook her head and sighed impatiently. ‘You want refugee status? Where’re you from?’
    ‘Pakistan.’
    ‘Pakistan? That’s not a conflict country.’
    Tanveer cocked his eyebrow and smiled. ‘Do you treat all your clients this badly, or do you just not like Pakistanis?’
    Mariam leaned forward slightly and looked at Tanveer thoughtfully. ‘You came to me for help. This is an immigration consultancy. I’m giving you advice.’
    Tanveer shifted uncomfortably in his chair, momentarily aware that Mariam’s strong opinions could be both useful and troublesome. ‘The advice isn’t helping. You’re telling me I’m not welcome in your country. I have money from my parents in Pakistan. I’ve come here to start a small business and try to make a living. I don’t want to cause trouble here. You know what happens if they catch me without papers. I’m telling you the truth, please don’t chase me away.’
    Mariam Suleiman looked into Tanveer’s eyes for the first time. What she saw was passion and determination. He also looked a lot like Shahid Kapur.
    Tanveer reached for his top button again, and for a second he saw the moment of deliberation in her eyes.
    ‘It’ll take about three weeks, is that okay?’ she said with a shy smile that only just reached her eyes.
    Tanveer nodded. ‘That’s fine, Mariam, thank you.’
    ‘Give me your contact number and I’ll phone you.’
    ‘You want the cash now?’
    Mariam smiled and nodded. ‘Unfortunately, yes. The people who do this for me want cash up front.’
    ‘How do I know I can trust you?’ Tanveer asked, his eyebrow cocked but his smile giving him away.
    Mariam bit her bottom lip and stole a quick look at Tanveer. ‘This is my business. I’m not a thief, so don’t worry.’
    Tanveer looked at his watch. They were thirty seconds late. Timing was everything, the man at the shed had said. He stood up and extended his hand to Mariam. ‘Thank you so much for helping me.’
    As their hands touched, two men, one black, one Indian, in police uniform entered through the open door and pushed