Free An Ordinary Day by Trevor Corbett

the upmarket suburb of La Lucia two years previously. The door opened before she reached it and she smiled apologetically. ‘Salaam. Sorry, love, hectic day.’
    Yusuf scowled at her and stepped aside to let her into the tastefully furnished apartment.
    ‘I’m tired of this.’ He shook his head and then reached into his pocket for his prayer beads. ‘This isn’t right. I question your loyalty when you do this.’
    Amina tried to brush him aside and walked towards the spacious kitchen. ‘Sorry, Ahmed. I’m really sorry.’
    ‘You don’t look sorry.’
    ‘I’m just not getting through all my work. Want some juice or something?’
    Yusuf shook his head. ‘I want you to be here when I get home.’
    ‘I know I should be. I feel bad.’
    Yusuf put his thumb into a raw blister on his hand and felt the pain. ‘I also work hard. I close the business at four-thirty, and it’s my business. You can walk out of someone else’s work at four.’
    ‘Baby you know my work doesn’t begin and end. It keeps going on. I thought you understood.’
    ‘Maybe I used to. Not any more.’
    Amina sat on a kitchen chair and sighed. ‘I try to leave when I can. We’re busy with an intense operation at the moment. It won’t be much longer.’
    Yusuf walked towards a wall cabinet. He opened it, shuffled through some paper, and brought out a bank statement. ‘Do you ever look at these?’ he asked sharply.
    ‘Bank statements? Not really.’
    ‘Maybe you should. Last month, there was sixty thousand rand in the cheque account.’
    ‘Ahmed, I—’
    ‘Ninety percent of that I put into the account. Your pathetic salary hardly pays the bank charges. And you’re dedicated to your work?’
    Amina stood up, indignant. ‘I’m dedicated to the team I work with. I’m there because I want to be there, not for financial gain.’
    ‘You’re paid to be there.’
    ‘I’m not materialistic, you should know that.’
    ‘It’s bad enough you’re working, it’s worse you’re working for the government intelligence service, but the worst, most unforgivable sin is the fact that you’re dedicated to your work in an unnatural way.’
    ‘It’s not a sin to work.’
    ‘You have no business dedicating yourself to anything or anybody, except me.’
    Amina cast her eyes to the polished marble floor and saw a vague reflection of herself. She ran a hand through her hair and then rubbed the back of her neck, which was now throbbing with pain. ‘Ahmed, please try to understand, you’re my husband, you’re everything to me, and I’ve tried to be perfect in every way for you.’
    ‘No, I don’t want perfection. I want you to be what you were created for.’
    ‘I’m a custodian of the nation. It’s a duty bestowed on me by the Almighty – to protect the weak and the afraid. I can’t fail you, but I also can’t fail them.’
    ‘You’re failing me.’
    ‘The people of this country look to us – to me – to protect them. We’re so few …’
    ‘Do you really believe that?’ Yusuf shook his head. ‘You believe your little contribution is going to change anything?’
    Amina didn’t answer.
    ‘The only thing that’s changing is you.’ Yusuf picked up a packet of cigarettes from the table and lit one. He casually blew a smoke ring in her direction. ‘And has the nation thanked you?’
    Amina tried to smile, but failed. ‘The fact that people sleep soundly at night’s all the thanks I want or need.’
    ‘What about me? Don’t I deserve to sleep in peace?’
    ‘You can and you do—’
    ‘Knowing you’re working late. I go through hell at night.’
    Yusuf turned his back on Amina and walked to the balcony where he silently finished his cigarette. Amina sat on the couch, exhausted, and before Ahmed had finished his cigarette, she was asleep.

    Leila Elhasomi looked at her watch, a fine and elegant piece, not unlike her. The reception, hosted by the Canadian ambassador, had just begun at the Valletta Plaza Hotel and the guests,