Chapter 8
Monday, May 7, 2007
“Please, have a seat,” said Awatef’s secretary. “I’ll be with you right away. Please just give me a minute, if you could.”
“Of course. Take your time, please.” I had received a call from Mai the day before.
“Sorry, my father sends his apologies but he can’t meet you tonight.”
We had agreed to meet on Sunday evening. I had already typed my notes from our last meeting into the computer and I was looking forward to the next meeting.
“He’s tired, you see,” Mai added.
“I hope everything is OK?”
A pause. “Well, Dad has heart problems. The doctor has told him to stop drinking alcohol and warned him about too much stress.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that. Last time he did drink some wine.”
“Yes, generally he drinks a lot. I’m scared.”
“I hope things will be
