The Intern Affair (19 page)

“All right I’ll see you later then,”
Charles
said, walking out of her office.

Samir and Talya looked at each other, and laughed quietly.

21

That evening
as they were walking back to her apartment, Samir turned to Talya and asked, “Have you told
Dr. Defray
that I was arriving yesterday?”

“Sure, and he said he wanted to meet you.”

“Well, why don’t we go to his surgery right now then?”

“I hadn’t planned on seeing him until the wee
ken
d really.
I guess we could give it a try.
If he is available, he’ll see us for sure.
He works out of a clinic just a few minutes from here.”

“Yes, I think it is time for me to meet him,” Samir concluded, walking a few paces in silence before adding, “Where did he get his first name from, or do you know?”

“From his mother; she is Tanzanian and I guess her family was from
Iran
or the
Middle East
anyway.”

“Do you know if his mother is still a practicing Muslim?”

“I don’t know about practicing, but I think she’s been brought up in Islam. I really don’t know her very well.
I have seen her on a couple of occasions, but I never had a chance to talk to her.”

“We’ll have to find out then, won’t we?” Samir turned his head, smiling.

“Why would that be important?
I don’t see that’s relevant.
I don’t particularly like to pry in someone’s life unless I have a good reason for it.”

“Talya, everything that touches your life at the moment is relevant.
And—”

“But she hasn’t ‘touched my life’, as you put it, she’s just
Ghali
’s mother, that’s all.”

“Maybe you’re right. We shall find out soon I suppose, and you can rest assured that I won’t be prying.”

“She’s not
my
mother anyway.” Talya looked down at the footpath stretching in front of her steps.

“And what does that mean?” Samir put his arm around her shoulders.

“If she were my mother, I would understand your interest, but as it is she isn’t.”

“And where is your mother, Talya?”

She stopped walking and looked up into his eyes. “Samir, don’t even consider going near the topic of my mother ever again. That is something I won’t discuss with anyone, not even with you.”

Samir looked down at her with compassion, although she needed none of that now. Talya wanted the painful memories of her mother to stay buried.

“I’m sorry. I won’t go there again as you say.
I didn’t mean to irritate you.”

“Drop it, Samir!” Talya said brusquely. Then relenting, “Maybe we should talk a little about you for a change. I meant to ask you this morning; what’s that crest on your breast pocket?
Which school is that?”

“That’s the crest of my College in
England
.”

“College in
England
?” Surprise tinted her question. “I thought you had been raised in the desert? You’re the son of a Touareg, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I have been raised in the desert, but my father saw fit to send me to
England
to get an education. He had judged that his first son and heir, was going to be ready to face progress, as he should. He didn’t want me to grow with primitive thinking or knowledge burdening my mind.”

“But, what about traditions; and all of that which you’ve described the first night you arrived in
Dakar
? Was that real or were they the tales of your father?”

“Talya! Everything I have recounted happened to me and to no one else.” Samir was somewhat amazed that Talya could
doubt
his word.
“But I was young then, and going to school in
England
did not prevent me from going home once in a while. My father had settled in
Nouakchott
where he had a transport company. My family lived there until he died many years ago.
My mother retired with her family in
Tripoli
.
Does that answer your question?”

Talya wasn’t sure that it did. Somehow, this English schooling of his didn’t match the picture she had drawn in her mind of Samir the Touareg.
It was the case of the ‘habit not making the monk’. The English Blazer did not make nor fitted the Touareg, the Samir she knew.

“I guess so….” She was not satisfied. Or rather, she felt a little disappointed that the dreamlike portrait of her friend had been smudged by the English schooling stint.

“What’s the matter, Talya?
Did I say something offensive?”

“No, of course not; it’s just me. I’m too much of a romantic. I should have lived a hundred years ago.”

“Then, My Lady, we wouldn’t have met.” Samir took her hand and they walked the rest of the way to
Ghali
’s clinic without another word.

When they arrived in front of the building, Talya had changed her mind.
She didn’t want to see
Ghali
.
She wanted to be alone with Samir.
For some reason, Talya wanted to have him all to herself.
None of this visiting people bit.
She wanted to go to the beach, rest, and talk … until sunset.

“Samir, I want to leave this visit for another day. We’ve hardly had an hour together—”

“Say no more, Talya.
I feel exactly the same way. We’ve done our work for the day, thus I think we deserve to rest and watch the waves coming to us. Let’s go.”

There were quite a few people on the beach now; mostly people taking their dogs for a walk or a swim.
The water was much too cold yet to see anyone bathe, but they saw a couple of men jog in the direction of the park, which prompted Samir to ask, “Do you like exercising like those men?”

“Not particularly.
In my opinion, jogging is fine for some people but not for me. I couldn’t see myself running for pleasure. I think I would prefer something like tennis, volley ball or golf where there is a purpose for the exercise apart from pumping your heart until it’s ready to burst or smashing your ankle bones at every step.”

Samir grinned.

They were going in the direction of the log on which they had been sitting that morning. When they were about to sit down, Samir swirled Talya around to face him, took her in his arms and hugged her.

She saw a glint of serenity in his eyes as he released her. “What was that for?
Is there something wrong?”

“Oh no, not at all. It’s as you said to me yesterday when you were staring at me.
I just can’t believe that I am actually here with you.
Since I’ve been fortunate enough to be called on my first ‘rescue’ mission and since I have met you, nothing has been the same for me.
Solitude is only good if you don’t want to share your thoughts. And now I can only think of one single thing every day, sharing my thoughts with you.”

“I understand how you feel,” Talya said. “
U
ntil I went to
Senegal
this last time, being alone was all I wanted.
I was always pushing people away from me. Solitude was a secure companion. It provided me with a sense of self-understanding and necessary moments of self-questioning about what I was doing or preparing to do.
I didn’t want anyone intruding in my life.”

“And now? Have you changed?
Or are you still analyzing your movements?”

“Oh yes, that hasn’t changed.
I don’t think being impulsive is among my list of character references.
But what has changed, though, is that I want to share my thoughts with you; with you alone.”

“What about sharing those thoughts with
Alhassan
?”

Back to that again… Aren’t we ever going to leave those banned
subjects alone?

“Especially not with
Alhassan
; he is the one person that has to stay away from me. I can’t have him prying or questioning or even disturbing my time right now.”

“Talya, what has made you so angry at him? Pushing him away is one thing that I can understand under the circumstances, but totally shutting him off, that I cannot comprehend.”

“Don’t you see what he has done?
He has pushed himself on me and that was the best way for me to start resenting him … I’m sorry.
As you’ve said yesterday we’ll see what happens when I get back, but at this very minute I don’t
want
him.”

“What about Doctor
Ghali
Defray
?”

“What about him?” Talya asked a little mystified at Samir’s questions.

“I think you know very well what I mean. You are pushing him away, too, aren’t you?”

“No I am not. I don’t have to push him away anywhere, because
Ghali
has never been anything else than a friend, just a comfortable, easy-going partner, that’s all.”

“I bet he doesn’t see your relationship in the same way you do, though.
If nothing else, his voice on the phone was that of someone who cares very deeply for you.
Perhaps more than you know.”

“I guess he does.
He says he does, but I don’t know what I feel.
It just feels good to be with him, nothing more.”

“It will be good to spend time with him, Talya, before we leave. I strongly believe
Ghali
could be a companion for you such as you describe him to be.”

Talya thought of their wee
ken
d in
Victoria
.

22

Phone calls
,
drafts, briefs, going to court, friends; everything seemed designed to draw Alhassan away from his thoughts—thoughts of Talya. He wanted to know more about her. He was anxious to hear from Samir. He didn’t know where he was, in
Vancouver
, yes, but where. Was he with Talya? What were they doing? How was he going to help her?
Among these muddled thoughts, one came at the forefront of Alhassan’s mind—what was in Talya’s past? What happened to her?

He picked up the phone and
dialled
Yvonne,
Francis
Gilbert
’s wife and Talya’s long time friend.

“Madame
Gilbert
?”

“Yes, this is she… Oh, this must be Maitre
Sangare
. How are you, Maitre?”

“I am fine, thank you.”

Impatient as ever, Yvonne jumped in, “Have you thought about our last conversation, Maitre?”

“Yes I have, and this is part of the reason for my calling you today—”

“What’s happening? Is he going to call me now that
Francis
is gone back to Kankoon?”

“Maybe not; the man knows that you don’t have the information he wants.”

“That’s a relief. Have you heard from Talya? I am worried about her.”

“No need to worry, Madame. I have heard from Talya just a few days ago and our friend Samir—do you remember?
He is the pilot who brought me down to
Dakar
—”

“Yes, of course, yes I do. Is he coming to
Bamako
? I’d love to meet him.”

“Yes. He is planning to bring Talya back to us in two weeks time.”

“You mean Talya will be back in two weeks?”

“At least we hope she is—”

“What do you mean; you hope—”

“That’s the other reason for my call to you today. I would like to invite you to have dinner with Mansur Dillon, Helen and me tomorrow night, if you were available. Then we could talk about these things that seemed to be in the way of Talya’s return.”

“That’s very gracious of you to invite me, Maitre, and I accept. I’ll be looking forward to sitting down with you three. Actually, I am getting a little lonely without my husband, and I can hear there is something in your voice that tells me Talya is in trouble again.”

“Not really in trouble, Madame, but shall we say there are too many unanswered questions, with which you could probably help us.”

“Say no more, Maitre, I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

“Good. My secretary will let you know the time and place.”

When Yvonne hung up, memories of Talya came flooding to her mind. The first time they met, the Grand Hotel, those meetings with government members, the murder of
Sergio
Mendez
, and Talya’s sudden disappearance. Then she thought of Helen Dumarais and the woman’s incredible beauty, a beauty that had been shattered at the hands of Mustafa Kareef … and the calls to
Francis
… The nightmare had resurfaced.