CHAPTER TWENTY
Jay had not slept well, but he knew he wouldn’t. The alarm screamed in his ears at 03:45 am. He tried to eat some crunchy muesli before brushing his teeth, but the thought of food just made him wretch. He brushed his teeth, ignoring his body’s impulses to throw up. Jay threw his toothbrush into his toiletries bag and packed that into his rucksack. By 04:05 am he was ready to leave. He checked that he had locked all doors and windows and that the lamp timer was switched on in the hallway. Jay put his jacket and shoes on, picked up his rucksack and locked the front door behind him.
The coolness of the morning air made Jay sneeze as he got into his car. The promise of a new dawn shimmered blue on the horizon. It was 04:12 am. Jay typed the address into his mobile and started his car.
By half past five he had reached Carterton, Oxfordshire. A magnificent sunrise emerged in his rear view mirror. Jay stopped his car five minutes later outside the main gates where a large sign stood on a brick plinth in the middle of the road; ‘Royal Air Force Brize Norton - Welcome to the defence gateway to operations’. He drove slowly up towards a barrier which was heavily guarded by armed soldiers.
“Mornin’ sir.. How can I help you?” asked a terrifying looking but friendly sergeant wearing full battle kit.
“Hi.. erm.. yes.. Jay Snow.. no.. sorry.. err..” Jay realised that he hadn’t asked Patrick which name they would be expecting. Jay thought quickly, deciding to use his real name as the only proof of identity he had on him was his real passport “.. I mean.. James Jarrett” Jay took his passport out of the side pocket of his rucksack under the watchful eye of another guard who stood on the opposite side of Jay’s car.
“Are you sure about that sir?” The sergeant took Jay’s passport and flipped the pages over until he reached Jay’s photo.
“Erm.. yes.. yes I am”
“Doesn’t look much like you sir.. Can you step slowly out of the car please?.. and keep your hands where I can see them”
Jay could see the other guards had readied themselves for the worst, almost pointing their automatic machine guns at him. Jay got out of his car as slowly as he could whilst trying not to look too nervous. He didn’t, after all, want to make the guards any more twitchy than they already were. Two guards opened the car doors and began to look around inside.
“Please face the vehicle sir.. with your legs slightly apart.. and rest your hands on the roof..” The sergeant performed a quick body search and stood back “..Ok sir.. thank you.. we can’t be too careful”
“Yes.. that’s ok” replied Jay very relieved.
“Just a moment sir.. I just need to do some checks.. Wait here please”
The sergeant went into a small brick building alongside the barrier and took Jay’s passport with him. The sergeant reappeared five minutes later with a broad disconcerting smile on his face.
“Right sir..” The sergeant handed back Jay’s passport and signalled to one of the guards to open the barrier “..All sorted.. Follow me please” The sergeant leapt into a Military Police Land Rover, reversed out in front of Jay and drove off at high speed. Jay followed. There were military vehicles everywhere as well as military personnel dashing from one place to another. This surprised Jay given how early it was. They drove past a large terminal building on the right with several low buildings to the left and on into an open area. There were huge aircraft hangars on the far left corner of an airfield and what looked like a runway straight ahead. The sergeant turned right and drove towards a row of parked cars, stopping abruptly. He leapt out of the Land Rover and told Jay to park his car alongside the others. He needn’t lock it. Jay did as he was told, taking his rucksack with him. The sergeant told Jay to get into the Land Rover. They then accelerated quickly away again only to slam on the brakes as a small grey jet taxied a few metres past the front of the Land Rover. They sped off once again, this time veering sharply to the right to follow the jet’s previous taxiway. They turned sharp left and came to a halt. Jay could see a large transport aircraft standing straight ahead which was being loaded with military equipment. A fuel tanker stood alongside.
“There you are sir.. They are expecting you.. Have a pleasant flight sir”
“Thank you” replied Jay as he fumbled with the door latch and opened the door. Jay threw his rucksack over his shoulder, closed the car door and walked over to the aircraft. He climbed a metal staircase, unsure as to whether the steps were shaking or whether it was just his nerves getting the better of him.
A woman in a grey-blue RAF uniform stood at the top of the staircase.
“Passport, mobile telephone and any identifiable personal belongings please sir”
There were no handshakes or emotions, just a gloved hand laid out flat to receive the requested items. Jay saw that she was a corporal. Two stripes adorned her lapel. Her jacket, skirt, blouse and shoes were all immaculate, as was her hair, tied up in a neat bun at the back of her head and topped off with a grey-blue cap. Jay placed his rucksack on the floor in front of him. He delved into his trouser pockets and fished out his car keys and mobile telephone. He handed them over to the corporal. He then lifted the rucksack up with one hand whilst he unzipped and rummaged around in the rucksack with the other, locating his passport and wallet. These too were given over to the corporal. There were no thank yous or other pleasantries as the corporal guided Jay into the plane with a wave from her free hand.
The inside of the plane was cavernous. The familiar seating layout of charter aircraft had been abandoned to make way for a cargo area consisting of bench seats on either side. A swivel stool and several spotlights stood in the middle of the floor. It looked like a scene from an old Cold War film - a flying KGB interrogation area. A dark-tanned, middle-eastern looking man wearing a black suit got up from one of the bench seats and greeted Jay. His skin emphasised the whiteness of his shirt as he held out his hand.
“Bohan” said the man, clearly and with no sign of a smile.
Jay shook his hand firmly “Jay.. Jay Snow.. pleased to meet you”
“No Mr. Snow!.. From now on you are Salman Al Saleh.. Please remember this.. for your own good!”
Bohan’s voice was very definite, bordering on stern. Jay decided to remain quiet as Bohan guided him to the stool in the middle of the aircraft. The stool’s feet were bolted to the metal floor. There were two wide grooves in the floor which Jay guessed were used to guide vehicles in place. A canvass partition separated their area from the rest of the plane. Jay couldn’t see what lay behind it, he could only hear military commands and the rumblings of what sounded like fork-lift trucks. The corporal disappeared behind a flap in the partition and reappeared shortly afterwards wearing rubber gloves and pushing a modified food trolley in front of her. She pulled the partition flap quickly down behind her, stopping Jay from seeing anything he shouldn’t. She then parked the trolley in front of him and pushed on the brake with her foot.
The corporal told Jay to remove all his clothing, including his underwear. The corporal looked away as Jay reluctantly obeyed her orders. Bohan handed Jay a clean pair of white underpants which Jay hastily put on. Bohan gathered various items up from the trolley. The corporal meanwhile placed Jay’s old clothing in a clear laundry bag and labelled it ‘Jay Snow’. Bohan held a small bowl in one hand and a box of hair colour in the other. The corporal threw a white cotton poncho over Jay’s head, pushing him simultaneously back into the stool. Bohan emptied the contents from the box’s bottles and tubes into the bowl, stirring the mixture briskly with a plastic spatula. The pungent smell of ammonia hit Jay’s nose. Bohan handed the bowl over to the corporal without speaking before draping a white towel over Jay’s shoulders. The corporal combed through Jay’s hair as if she was inspecting for nits. There was silence apart from the movements at the back of the plane. Bohan took a second spatula out of his pocket, scraped up some mixture from the bowl and started applying the mixture to Jay’s beard and eyebrows. The corporal applied dollops of the mixture to Jay’s hair, combing it through at regu
lar intervals. They stopped after a few minutes. Bohan set a timer on his mobile telephone whilst the corporal threw all the loose back items onto the trolley. They both left through the hole in the partition, taking the trolley with them.
Jay sat alone for several minutes until Bohan’s telephone started beeping in the distance. The corporal reappeared pushing a another trolley in front of her. This trolley had a large yellow plastic sink attached. Bohan followed closely behind carrying a plastic ten litre water container. The corporal parked the sink in front of Jay. She then swivelled Jay’s stool round so he faced the back of the plane and pulled a lever under the seat, simultaneously pushing Jay’s head backwards so that his neck rested on the lip of the sink. Bohan pulled Jay’s fringe backwards and poured tepid water slowly over his hair, holding the water bottle with one arm. The corporal came round to the other side and assisted Bohan in washing Jay’s hair, beard and eyebrows. Once done, the corporal wrapped the towel around Jay’s head and moved the stool to the upright position. Bohan turned Jay round to face the front of the aircraft and handed him a mirror.
Jay was surprised at the difference. His hair, eyebrows and beard were now jet black. The corporal rubbed Jay’s skin vigorously with the corner of the towel to remove rogue patches of hair colour. Once satisfied with the results she snatched the mirror from Jay’s hand and rolled the trolley quickly out through the flap in the partition. She re-entered at speed and closed the aircrafts external door before disappearing into the cockpit. Bohan had meanwhile grabbed Jay’s elbow and pulled him up from the stool, handing him some clothing in the process.
“We need to move fast..” said Bohan “..This is a thawb..” He held an Arabic looking white robe in one hand “..and this is a keffiyeh” Bohan held a long piece of red and white checked cloth and what appeared to be a black headband with his other hand “..You have to put them on now as we are going to be taking off in five minutes”
Jay removed the poncho and took the robe from Bohan, trying to work out how to put it on.
“You just pull it over you.. like this..” Bohan pulled the thawb over Jay’s head “..and then button up at the front” Bohan placed the checked cloth on top of Jay’s head “..This has to be done like this in Kuwait..” Bohan placed the headband on top of the cloth and pushed the two sides of the cloth back behind his shoulders. He held his mobile telephone up so that Jay could see himself on the screen. Bohan removed the headband and the cloth again and began wrapping it around Jay’s head, leaving a piece to dangle down “..And like this in Iran.. Got it?”
“Err.. Not quite.. Sorry.. Could you show me that again please?”
“No.. You’ll have to wait until we are in the air.. You will need to take a seat over there now..” Bohan pointed to one of the bench seats “..and buckle up”
Bohan sat down next to Jay. The corporal returned from the cockpit and sat opposite them. All three fastened their buckles in unison as they felt the aircraft jolt backwards, ready to taxi out onto the runway. Jay’s hands began to sweat slightly. Within a matter of minutes there was a sudden burst of acceleration and they were up in the air, making a sharp right turn over Oxfordshire.
Jay thought it was strange to sit sideways-on in an aircraft. He presumed that was just what they did in the military, but he was annoyed that he couldn’t see anything out of the windows other than an occasional cloud flying past. The corporal sat stone-faced with knees together and hands neatly clasped in front of her.
After another twenty minutes of flying the aircraft started levelling out. Jay yawned to adjust his ears to the cabin pressure.
“You are allowed to get up now..” said Bohan, releasing his seatbelt and looking at his watch “..We have about another six hours to go”
Jay unlatched his seatbelt, stretched his legs and stood up. The aircraft was noisier than the passenger aircraft he was used to, and whatever was in the back rattled like an old cast iron bed. Jay decided to occupy himself by practicing the pronunciation of his Kuwaiti name, and by putting on his keffiyeh in the Iranian manner.
“Sit down here please” The corporal pointed to the stool. Jay wondered why she had interrupted his keffiyeh exercises then he noticed she was holding a very used camera in her hand. Bohan switched on all the spotlights, turning them towards the stool. Jay sat down, pulling his robe into position and rearranging his keffiyeh back to Kuwaiti fashion. The corporal screwed a telescopic stand onto the camera and placed it in front of Jay. She adjusted the lens and settings whilst Bohan wheeled a whiteboard behind Jay. Bohan nodded to the corporal. The corporal clicked away for several seconds, checking the camera’s display now and then. She then removed the camera and walked off behind the partition together with Bohan. Jay decided to stand up. He removed his headband and keffiyeh as both had become unbearably itchy. Jay didn’t like wearing hats at the best of times but the keffiyeh was absolutely no better. Jay continued experimenting with the Iranian style of headdress in the hope that it would prove less irritating to wear.
The corporal returned holding a blue Kuwaiti passport which she handed over to Jay. Jay fanned through the pages, quickly reaching the page containing his picture. Everything looked very authentic. The cover and pages had even been given a slightly worn look to add to authenticity. The corporal showed him a page containing an official stamp and explained that it was Jay’s visa to enter Iran. The corporal disappeared again.
Bohan returned carrying a large mirror and a black sports bag. He placed the mirror on the floor in front of Jay, tilting it up so he could carry on practicing with the keffiyeh. After half an hour of frustrated instruction from Bohan, Jay started to get the hang of it, and was able to tie and untie the headdress in the Iranian way in just under a minute. Bohan was not so easily impressed however, stating that a drunken scarecrow could do it faster.
Bohan delved into the sports bag and pulled out a large plastic carrier bag bearing the logo of a Kuwaiti shopping centre. He then took the ready-assembled quadcopter out of the sports bag and transferred it to the carrier bag.
“Quadcopter..” Jay nodded in confirmation “..Pad computer..” Bohan continued the same routine for all the other items.
“Charger for Quadcopter.. charger for pad computer.. satellite locator.. chest harnesses.. back harness.. sandals.. underwear.. body shampoo.. toothbrush.. toothpaste..”
Bohan explained that the plastic bag may not be very fashionable but it would ‘fit in’, adding that no-one in Iran would have toiletry bags, nor would they use deodorant. Jay mumbled ‘how very pleasant’ to himself. Bohan informed him that he would have to leave the hotel in Kuwait at exactly 07:30 am the next morning. He would use entrance number seven where a white taxi marked with the number 46 would be waiting for him. The taxi driver would take him to the computer salesman’s house where he would receive further instructions. The computer salesman’s name was Hakim. Jay needn’t worry about money as everything had been taken care of. Bohan asked if Jay had any questions. Jay shook his head.
“What is your name?”
“Salman Al Sarlay” replied Jay
“Not so English please!.. It’s Sa’leh.. You’re not going to Ascot you know!.. You have to sound convincing.. ” Bohan curled his fingers up “..Again!”
“Salman Al Salay”
“Better.. but still not good enough.. Again!”
Bohan made Jay practice for over an hour or until he was satisfied with the result. Jay spent the rest of the flight trying out the harnesses, dismantling and reassembling the quadcopter and rearranging his headdress.
The aircraft began to slow down and make its descent. Jay looked out of the window at a swathe of blue and yellow colours. A coastline emerged, then a port area. Ships and cranes vied for space amongst tightly packed warehouse buildings. A hazy beige hue hung over the desert in the distance. Hundreds of high-rise houses came into view, all lined up in neat little rows. Jay wondered why it was necessary to build high-rise buildings here of all places, especially given the fact that t
here was so much free space in the desert around the city. Bohan took Jay by the arm and guided him towards the side of the aircraft, almost throwing him down into his seat. Bohan sat down beside him. The corporal reappeared and sat down opposite them once more. All three buckled up. Jay heard the aircraft’s hydraulic flaps being activated and the landing gear being lowered. The aircraft slowed further as a result. Jay turned his head over his shoulder as far as he could and looked out of the window. A runway came into sight. The aircraft approached the tarmac at speed until a shuddering bump and a roar from the aircraft’s engines brought them to a standstill. Ragged dunes dotted the sandy landscape around them. They taxied off the runway towards a large and very modern looking terminal building. They stopped a few hundred metres short of the terminal. The corporal unbuckled her seatbelt, dashed towards the door and threw the door open. The heat from the outside hit them immediately. It was as if someone had just opened an oven door. Bohan released his seatbelt and stood up, taking the sandals out of the plastic bag. He told Jay to remove his shoes and put the sandals on. Jay unbuckled his belt and did as he was asked. Bohan put Jay’s shoes and socks in the laundry bag and asked Jay to stand up, handing him the plastic carrier bag. Bohan walked Jay over to the door whilst Jay tried not to trip over his robe in his unfamiliar footwear. He looked at the corporal’s watch. It was a little after 4 pm as far as he could make out. A set of mobile stairs were pushed up against the door aperture as a large black Mercedes, complete with dark tinted windows, drew up alongside. The corporal moved out of the way and said goodbye to Jay. There were no signs of emotion and no offer of a handshake. Jay stepped out onto the top of the stairs and met the searing heat from the sun. A chauffeur stepped out of the car and opened the back door, timing it perfectly with Jay’s arrival at the bottom of the staircase. Jay got in and placed the plastic bag on his lap. The chauffeur closed Jay’s door with the soft clunk of an expensive car. Bohan sat down beside Jay, giving instructions to the driver in Arabic. They sped around the side of the main building towards a smaller building with blue glass windows.
Bohan ordered Jay out of the car. They walked up to one of the windows. A hatch opened in the reflective glass. Bohan conversed briefly with someone in Arabic before the hatch was smacked shut again. He then moved Jay quickly on, following the signs towards the immigration area. They entered through the back of the main terminal building and bypassed all the passport control booths. They walked straight through the customs area without interruption. Bohan escorted Jay past a group of security guards and through a set of sliding doors to a taxi waiting on the other side. He wished Jay luck and shook his hand. He too showed little sign of emotion. Bohan had already disappeared by the time Jay had sat down in the taxi.
The taxi driver drove Jay directly to his hotel - a large building overlooking the marina. There were designer shops, a huge shopping centre and even a Marks and Spencers. Jay thanked the driver. The taxi driver smiled back showing the few teeth he had left in his mouth. Jay took his bag and entered the hotel’s foyer. He was very conscious of his attire and especially the shoddy carrier bag he was carrying. The receptionist greeted him with a smile and spoke to him in Arabic. Jay replied in English, giving his Kuwaiti name. The woman looked perplexed but checked him in nonetheless and handed him a card-key.
Jay’s room was on the fourth floor. It was sumptuous and, not least, air-conditioned. There were sliding glass doors leading out onto a balcony overlooking the marina and a large bathroom with marble tiling from floor to ceiling. Jay placed the plastic bag on the soft double bed standing in the middle of the room and removed his clothing. He took a long, cool shower and dried himself off. He put on his robe again and walked out onto the balcony where a small glass table and two ornate gold plated chairs welcomed him in the warm evening sun. Jay scanned the horizon. The bustling traffic below stood in stark contrast to the tranquillity of the sea beyond the marina. A group of women walked towards the shopping centre, some covered head to toe in dark robes, others in jeans and high heels. Two men walked on the pavement opposite wearing white robes and keffiyehs. Jay remembered that he hadn’t put his headdress on again and rushed inside to do so. As the sun swung round and the shade disappeared on the balcony, Jay decided to take a wander around the hotel. He discovered a swimming pool, a training room and two restaurants. But Jay didn’t have any money so he couldn’t even buy any swimming shorts. He was basically wearing all the clothes he had with him. Jay inspected the restaurant menus. His stomach was ready for lunch, even though it was actually dinner time in Kuwait. Jay chose the restaurant which sounded most classy and therefore most expensive. He might as well have his ‘last supper’ paid for by the British government he thought.
Jay was impressed by the meal which was a combination of French cuisine with a tinge of Arabian zest. The only negative side of the eating experience was that he was eating alone, and he missed Zu. He left the table after main course and went out to the hotel foyer. Three receptionists tried to maintain control of the very busy reception area. Jay guessed that most people probably checked in at that time, or maybe they just came in to use the restaurant. The foyer had huge columns and ornate paintings hanging off the walls. Tired guests lay slumped in plush leather seats placed between the columns whilst restless children played hide and seek. Others crawled over mountains of baggage to the irritation of their parents. Jay decided it was all too hectic and went back up to his room.
Jay checked that the door locked before he emptied the contents onto his bed. He checked that all the equipment worked and that everything was fully charged before putting everything back. Jay’s throat was dry. He opened the door to a small fridge concealed inside a cupboard. A bottle of white wine lay horizontally across cans of German lager and assorted bottles of miniature spirits. Jay extracted the wine bottle carefully, twisted the cap and poured himself a glass. He raised his glass and toasted SIS before venturing out onto the balcony. Jay sipped his wine as he surfed and checked his email on the pad computer. There was a message from Zu telling him how much she loved him and how much she missed him. Jay wanted to reply, but couldn’t. He deleted all the history and cookies from the browser and shut the pad computer down, concentrating instead on watching the nightlife pass by below and the shimmer of light from the marina’s lazy waves.
Jay woke up with a start, flipping open the pad computer’s cover to check the time. It was 06:30 am. He threw on his robe and headdress and went down to the restaurant to have some breakfast. The breakfast area was already busy with families and businessmen jockeying for position around the various buffets. Everything had been appetisingly laid out on tables around the sides of the room. Although tempted by some of the hot dishes, Jay decided to take the healthier option of muesli topped off with fresh fruit and accompanied by a cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. A waiter placed an Arabic newspaper on the table beside Jay and said something in Arabic. Jay responded, in English, saying that he didn’t understand. The waiter replaced the newspaper discretely with an English version and scurried off. Jay scanned the room, looking for interesting subjects to study whilst he munched on his rather mundane muesli.
Jay was back in his room by 06:58. He placed the satellite locator down the side of one of his socks, not wishing to forget it. Jay removed his headdress and robe and took the back harness out of the plastic bag. He placed the quadcopter in the harness, making sure it was securely fastened. He then placed the loop holes over his arms and pulled the harness onto his back. Jay took the chest harness out of the plastic bag and fastened the pad computer into the pocket before he pulled it over his arms and up to his chest. Both harnesses were then fixed to each other using metal popper studs. Jay put his robe and headdress on again and brushed his teeth. He put his toothbrush, toothpaste, chargers and used underpants in the overnight bag which he then placed in the plastic bag together with his passport. Jay looked around the room to see if he had forgotten anything, tidying up as he went.
By 07:22 a
m Jay had positioned himself by the hotel entrance, waiting for passers-by to disappear so he could make his exit. He could see the white taxi parked up about twenty metres away with the number 46 visible on the door. Once the route was clear he made a dash for the taxi and jumped in. The taxi screeched away, barely giving Jay time to close the door. After a few minutes the taxi turned into a back alley. Jay felt a little anxious. He had no idea if he could trust the taxi driver or not, and the taxi driver wasn’t exactly overly talkative. The taxi stopped outside a small shop which, by the look of it, sold electronic junk. Jay presumed that this was the right place. He barely got out of the car before the taxi raced off down the road leaving a trail of dust behind it.
A man wearing a light yellow thawb and white fez came out of the shop. His skin was dark and bore the signs of a life under strong sunlight. It was difficult to tell his age due to the amount of facial hair and premature wrinkling, but Jay guessed he was around forty, give or take a few years.
“Welcome..” the man offered his hand “..My name is Hakim”
“Jame.. err.. Salman..” Jay wanted to kick himself “..Pleased to meet you”
“Likewise.. Please come inside.. We have much to do”
Hakim led Jay through the front of the shop which was littered with boxes of cables, hard disks and old computer screens. A workbench was stacked up with carcasses of computers which were either being salvaged or cannibalised. They walked into a back room where a door led out into a courtyard. The room was bare but cool and the ceiling low. A thick layer of dust hid whatever covered the floor. The only furniture in the room was a rickety old table with two stools and a fridge which had seen better days. Jay looked out of the window into the courtyard. Dust intermingled with sand in even quantities. A small lorry with dubious road worthiness stood in the middle, laden with computer equipment. A cross country motorcycle with an oversize fuel tank leant up against it. Hakim took a bottle from the fridge and poured water into a glass.
“Water?” Hakim held the glass up towards Jay.
“Thank you” Jay swallowed the water quickly.
“Take this..” Hakim handed Jay a large white tablet “..it will help you cope with the heat.. It’s ok.. it’s just salt”
Hakim could tell that Jay wasn’t exactly enjoying the taste of the salt tablet and handed him the water bottle.
“I’m going to finish off getting the bike ready.. I presume you will want to put your bits and pieces in the truck?” asked Hakim.
“Yes.. Do you have a cabinet I can use?”
“As you can see.. I have many! ..But I’ve put several PCs on the back of the truck.. I think the large one at the back will be just what you need”
Jay walked out to the courtyard, pulled a large PC out from the back of the truck, removed the casing and inspected inside. He removed the two harnesses from under his robe and dismantled the quadcopter, placing the rotor sections carefully inside the cabinet where two cooling fans used to sit. He placed the remains, including the two harnesses and the pad computer, inside the cabinet and replaced the casing.
Hakim was in the process of removing the motorcycle’s number plates. Jay peered inside two large bags which were mounted on the sides of the motorcycle. There was a first aid kit, two rolled up blankets, a map and several small water bottles.
“It gets cold at night” said Hakim, tapping one of the blankets and making a shivering motion to make further emphasis.
Jay helped Hakim push the motorcycle up a wooden ramp onto the back of the truck. The ramp was then fed down the side of the computer equipment and a tarpaulin cover pulled over to close the back of the truck. Hakim made last minute checks before he locked up the shop and they set off on the short drive down to the docks. Hakim pulled over to the Customs booth and handed their passports to a policeman. There were no questions. The policeman waved them on to a queue of waiting vehicles. Hakim pointed to a ship, telling Jay that that was their ferry. Jay hoped that the extensive rust on the outside was not indicative of the ferry’s general state of seaworthiness. The sun beat down unforgivingly on the truck even though it was still relatively early, and the air-conditioning was virtually non-existent. Hakim joked that they would be cooked through before they boarded the ferry.
The vehicles in front of them eventually started their engines and moved off one by one. The lorry spluttered into action and followed, driving up a steel ramp into the bowels of the ship. A member of the crew guided them into a tight parking space and told Hakim to pull up the handbrake. Jay’s forehead poured with sweat by the time he got out of the truck and into the mayhem of noise, vehicles and people on the car deck. Hakim told him that he had better get used to the heat as it was only going to get worse. Jay took a bottle and poured some water onto his hand to wet his face. He drank the rest in one gulp.
The pungent mix of sweat, diesel and turmeric tore into Jay’s nasal cavities as they climbed the steel staircase up to the lounge - a large open area filled with torn seating in varying degrees of shabbiness. Hakim dragged Jay over to two vacant seats behind a café area.
“We’d better take these..” said Hakim, throwing his shoulder bag onto one of the two seats “..It gets filled up very quickly in here”
A large teenage boy sporting a pubescent moustache tried to plonk his bag on Jay’s seat, prompting Jay to throw himself down demonstratively. Jay puffed himself up in an attempt to look threatening.
“Good.. good.. you are getting the hang of things..” laughed Hakim as he swung his backside into his seat “..Only another eight hours to go!”
“Really?”
“Yes.. assuming the ferry doesn’t break down on the way that is.. But don’t worry.. it doesn’t happen very often.. and I’ve brought some sandwiches and water.. so we should survive”
The ferry sailed past green buoys marking the harbour entrance as crowds of new passengers arrived in the lounge. Jay was in no doubt that the ferry was carrying far more passengers than it was legally allowed to. The air was humid and heavy, even though all doors and windows stood fully open. But much of the heat came from the kitchen behind them whilst diesel fumes came in from the windows.
Hakim leant towards Jay and whispered “Most people here are either truck drivers or business men.. but they subsidise their trips by taking paying passengers with them.. as you can see”
Jay whispered back “That would explain the numbers.. but why are we whispering?.. Don’t you want anyone to hear us speaking English?”
“No.. no.. Many people speak English here.. Not all Iranians speak Arabic and there aren’t many outside of Iran who speak Farsi.. so English is quite common here..” Hakim let out a light chuckle “..But I only whispered so the truck drivers didn’t think I was insulting them by calling them business men”
“Do you do this trip often?”
Hakim looked around to see if anyone was listening and then turned to Jay “You know.. we aren’t supposed to talk about such things.. but yes.. I do it now and again”
“Ok.. sorry.. That was stupid of me”
”It’s ok.. It’s you that will get into trouble just as much as me..” Hakim smiled “..But I have family in Iran too.. so I have a genuine excuse if you like.. I visit them once in a while.. you know.. when I’m selling computers” Hakim winked to Jay.
A group of young men across from them started puffing at a hookah pipe. The smell was surprisingly appealing to Jay, partly due to the mixture of aromatic essences, partly due to the nicotine in the smoke which reignited Jay’s memories of when he used to smoke. ‘Once a smoker, always a smoker’ was what Jay’s father always used to tell him.
“That is a ghaliyan” said Hakim pointing to the contraption.
“A galleon?..” asked Jay “..after the sailing ships?”
Hakim laughed “No.. ghali-yan”
“Ahh!” replied Jay feeling slightly embarrassed.
The young men noticed their interest and offered them a puff. Hakim held up his hand as if to say no t
hank you whilst Jay tried to explain that he didn’t want to risk getting addicted to the thing being an ex-smoker. Hakim conveyed the message back to the men in fluent Farsi. The men laughed, nodding knowingly back at Jay.
“So.. you speak both languages too.. Farsi and Arabic?” asked Jay
“Like a native..” replied Hakim with a smile. Hakim pulled a bottle of water out of his bag “..Here.. remember to drink” Hakim handed the bottle to Jay “..We don’t want you looking like a sun dried sultana when we get there do we?”
“Thank you.. No.. we definitely don’t want that” Jay smiled.
“You know..” continued Hakim “..my mother was Iranian.. She died many years ago.. but I still have an aunty and several cousins in Iran.. We moved to Kuwait when my mother was ill.. you know.. when I was small?”
“Do you remember moving?”
“No.. not really.. only what my father told me.. He said they had to bribe a ship’s captain to let them sail with them to Kuwait where they applied for political asylum.. He said we almost got refused.. sent back to an almost certain death sentence.. for him at least.. But my father never gave up.. and we were allowed in because my mother was ill.. You know.. he did odd jobs.. saved up to get medical help for my mother.. looked after us.. my two brothers.. my sister.. me.. I don’t know how he did it to be honest..” Hakim raised his head and looked out across the blue-green sea “..He was my hero”
“He sounds like it..” replied Jay quietly “..but I think all fathers are” Jay thought for a few seconds before he spoke again “..Do you ever have problems getting in or out of Iran?”
“No.. never.. Well.. I’ve got a Kuwaiti passport now.. which makes it a loss easier.. It would be completely different if I had an Iranian one.. They tend to be a lot more.. um.. what shall we say.. dogmatic with their own people?..” Hakim stood up “..Would you like some tea?”
“Hmm.. yes please.. I think I would”
Hakim returned a few minutes later with two glasses of hot tea and placed them on the table in front of Jay.
“Some say that hot tea helps cool you down you know?”
“Really? ..I’ve never heard that before.. How come?” asked Jay, trying not to sound too cynical about the idea.
“Well.. when it’s hot you need to sweat.. you know? ..In order to bring down the body temperature ..And some say that drinking a cup of hot tea speeds up the sweating process.. so you sweat quicker ..and you therefore cool down quicker”
Jay picked up his tea cup and tried to ignore the fact that he probably had hundreds of tea drinking men sweating profusely around him. He raised his glass “How do you say cheers in Arabic?”
Hakim picked his glass up and tapped it gently against Jay’s “Fee sahatikum!”
“Fee saḥatikum!” reiterated Jay, and tapped his glass against Hakim’s.
“Salamati!” replied Hakim, nodding with approval and whispered “..That was the Iranian version”
Jay felt the impact of the heat and gradually dozed off. Hakim woke him up two hours later, offering him pita bread with marinated chicken, rocket lettuce and a spicy yoghurt dressing. They both ate slowly, almost lethargically, washing mouthfuls of food down with copious amounts of water. Jay thanked him for the meal and excused himself to go to the toilet. Jay sensed immediately that the toilet was going to be an experience he would never forget. The stench was only surpassed by the visual appearance of the cubicles. They were nothing other than holes in the floor, overflowing with excrement and toilet paper. Jay didn’t want to touch anything for fear of catching something. Jay stood precariously and peed as quickly as he could as the ship swayed from side to side with the movements of the waves. A metal bowl hung desperately by one screw to the wall. A thin tap hung over it, totally seized and totally useless. Jay tore a piece of toilet paper from a large roll by the sink. He spat on his hands and wiped them dry with the paper. Jay ran out before nausea could take over.
Jay walked towards the back of the ship to get some fresh air. He pulled a heavy steel door open which led onto the rear deck. The deck itself was very small and overcrowded with smokers. Two large funnels stood beside the vehicle deck below them and spewed out black smoke as the ship’s engine thumped out its unsteady rhythm. Exhaust fumes blew regularly towards the people on the deck, carried on by gusts of wind. Jay decided to move away and find another less smoky and less populated area. The only problem was that there were no other areas, neither on the sides nor at the front of the ship. Jay decided to go back inside. He would sleep the rest of the trip away.
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