Free Circle of Fire by S. M. Hall Page A

tea?’
    Maya breathed out a long sigh of relief.
    Khaled stood with his back against the sink, one long, slender arm supporting his weight. ‘There’s not much custom today. Doesn’t matter if I close early.’ He stretched out a hand reaching for the kettle. ‘You’re not from round here, are you? Where do you live?’
    â€˜Derbyshire,’ Maya said, weakly, thinking too late that she should have lied.
    â€˜So, are you staying with relatives?’
    â€˜No. I just came up today to try and find some information.’
    He raised one delicate eyebrow. ‘Why here? Why Leeds?’
    â€˜I . . . I . . . just knew it was where a lot of Muslims lived.’
    â€˜So, why not Derby? A lot of Muslims live there too.’
    She bit her lip, gulped, then, casting her eyes downward, she said quietly, ‘I just wanted to get away.’
    â€˜I understand.’
    The kettle boiled and he turned to make tea and put some biscuits onto a plate. She noted his elegant hands, his delicate movements, his tall, slim body, and reminded herself that he was Khaled Husain, the man with green eyes – the man with an asterisk under his photo that marked him as a suicide bomber. Was he somebody prepared to kill and die for his faith? If he knew who she was, would he help her or betray her?
    He put two mugs on the table. ‘Do youtake sugar?’
    â€˜No thank you.’
    She drew the mug towards her. He sat down, leaned across the table and asked abruptly, ‘How did you manage to find this place?’
    â€˜I got off the bus and asked where there was a good bookshop. A grey-haired woman who said she was your aunt directed me here.’
    He looked away, then back. ‘Hm. That would be Mariam,’ he said. He sipped his tea, his eyes glimmering over the rim of the white mug. ‘A bookshop,’ he said, with a wry smile. ‘Out of the whole of England, you found this one.’
    â€˜I thought an Islamic bookshop would be a good place to start learning about Islam,’ Maya shot back at him.
    â€˜What’s your name?’
    â€˜Soraya,’ she replied without hesitation, giving the name of a Muslim girl in her class at school.
    He looked thoughtful. ‘So, Soraya, are you willing to give your life to Allah, to follow the teachings of our Prophet, peace be upon him?’
    She drew back her shoulders and held her head high. ‘I want to learn, to grow, to make an informed decision. It’s my birthright.’ The words surprised her,she had no idea where they came from.
    Khaled cupped his chin with his thumb and forefinger and said, with a half-smile, ‘You’ve been denied the truth for too long.’
    His stare was intense, his eyes mesmerising, and Maya found she couldn’t look away. She sipped her tea and blinked, but his gaze was still there, examining, assessing, making her hand shake as she set down her mug. He leaned forward, looked as if he was going to say something, then abruptly changed his mind, got up and went over to a shelf, where he picked out a small slim book.
    â€˜Here,’ he said. ‘This is a good place to start.’
    He came over and handed the book to her. She looked at the title –
The Five Pillars of Islam
.
    â€˜You’re welcome to join one of our study groups.’
    â€˜Thank you. That’d be great, but I don’t have anywhere to stay.’
    â€˜You can stay here. I’ll show you where, when you’ve drunk your tea. See what you think.’
    Maya was eager to look round the place, but not with Khaled watching her every move.
    â€˜Is there a toilet?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yes, of course. Up the stairs, first door onyour right.’
    On the staircase were big posters printed with Arabic script; one had the graphic image of a bloodstained dagger plunged into a map of the Middle East, and another showed George Bush’s face behind barbed wire. Maya opened and closed the bathroom