The Marsh Birds by Eva Sallis Read Free Book Online Page A

possibly really contemplate it. Then, at the call to prayer of the third dawn, he had an inspiration.
    Mr Hosni knew he would miss Dhurgham, but with the threat of Dhurgham’s manhood disrupting everything, even proving dangerous, he couldn’t keep him.
    He slept all morning. It was perfect.
    At breakfast, a week later, Mr Hosni let himself look appropriately tired, drawn and worried. Dhurgham noticed straight away.
    â€˜Sit down, Birdie.’
    Dhurgham sat opposite Mr Hosni at the kitchen table, as they had so many times before.
    Mr Hosni leant forward. Tears started involuntarily in his eyes. He really did feel immeasurably sad. He blenched and said in a low voice,‘They have found you out. They know who you are. We have to get you out of the country as soon as possible!’ He watched with inner satisfaction as Dhurgham jumped fearfully.
    Dhurgham stared speechless, his eyes wide. The past seemed so dreamy, such an unlikely story to carry with one as a half-held memory. And ‘they’ had always been shadowy, dream figures. But what opened in his heart was a trickle, then a growing clamour for action, for leaving. It was as if Mr Hosni had painted a door on a picture, and said, Go on, open it . His heart thumped, and he watched his benefactor suspiciously.
    â€˜I know a man, a Mr Leon ,’ Mr Hosni said, leaning forward and whispering the name, then sitting back again.‘I’ve paid for everything , because I love you, B— Dhurgham. I am sending you to a new life in Australia. You leave in two days. Once you are settled, you might send for me, your old Uncle, send me a visa—’ He trailed off in a daydream. Birdie would never blame him. Birdie would have a new life, in a country where a boy could have a real job and would forget bad things. Birdie might marry and name his firstborn Hani … The plan was absolutely perfect. He felt so good about himself that the expense didn’t bother him. He noted this with surprise and pleasure. Yes, that was it! No expense would be spared. A strangely enchanting sadness filled him. He had never felt quite so virtuous, quite so much the hero character—relinquishing all, selflessly, and righting wrongs at the same time. Dhurgham would love him, always. Alone in the kitchen, after Dhurgham went out for a walk, he sat silent, more sad now than happy. It was going to be a lonely house.
    Dhurgham went first to the mosque. He hadn’t been there for nearly two years. It looked smaller and grimier than he remembered, until he entered. The vista of the great courtyard opened up, vast and calm, the marble flagstones gleaming. He walked around the arcades slowly, glancing cursorily at all the familiar textures and images. He felt nothing at all. He could remember all this and it seemed that it had nothing to say to him now, or that it was unwilling to give him anything for his journey. He left again in minutes, vaguely relieved and disappointed.
    He walked with long strides without direction through the streets. Slowly, he began to feel dizzy with joy, as if his legs were making huge bounds that were the clumsy preliminaries to graceful take-off, to long-distance migratory flight to the south. To the West. To the lands of the setting sun. Australia .
    He was going to see a kangaroo.
    He found himself on a street that seemed familiar —not from his time with Mr Hosni; this was a street of dreams, not of the real world. This was a street from before the mosque, his earliest clear point of continuous memory. His heart hammered and he felt sick and dizzy. Then he felt a stranger’s sad kiss burn into his forehead before he even fully remembered. He crept stealthily along the street, sneaking up on his memories, on lost secrets. He came to a stop in front of the safe house before he recognised it.
    He stared up at a blackened, pock-marked façade. It was a shell, burnt out and uninhabited. Destroyed some time before and overgrown with