The Sheikh's Son Read Online Free PDF

making the most fuss over Akbar and Ali, and Sarah wondered whether he’d already heard about what just happened at the park between Akbar, Hassan, and the other boys.
    Akbar had walked to the four boys and started doing the most amazing football tricks. It wasn’t long before he was showing the boys how to do them and by the time they left the park, Akbar, Ali, and Hassan had come out victorious from a game of three-aside football.
    “You never told me that you had a cool dad, Ali,” Hassan said.
    “Your dad’s pretty cool, too,” Ali replied. “He lets you eat all the chocolate you want from his shop.”
    “Bring your dad again tomorrow and he can teach us a few more of his tricks,” one of the other boys said. All the boys agreed that was a good idea and they parted ways with the promise to meet up again the next afternoon.
    “That was amazing, Dad! None of the other dads can play like that. Where did you learn?” Ali asked his father as they walked to the restaurant.
    “When I was a boy, there were no computer games or TV. We spent our time outside playing football, riding horses, and racing camels.”
    Sarah smiled. She could imagine Akbar as a child, running around the camp, playing with the other Bedouin children, getting in the way of his mother, Fatima. She had generally got on well with her mother-in-law. One of the many reasons why she thought about returning to Yazan was to see her again as she didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to her when she walked out on Akbar.
    “How’s your mother?” she asked.
    “She’s still telling me what to do and bossing everyone about!” He laughed. “My mother would love you, Ali. She would spoil you with sweets and dates, and at night she would tell you scary stories about ghosts and genies.”
    Sarah remembered Fatima’s stories about spirits, or jinn as she called them. Fatima was a strong believer in the supernatural and many of the illnesses amongst the Al-Zafirs had been put down to the actions of malevolent spirits until Sarah showed them that they were just common ailments that could be easily cured with paracetamol or a simple dose of antibiotics.
    “Mum, when can I meet my grandmother? When can we go to Yazan?”
    “I don’t know, Ali.”
    “We almost went once,” Ali said to his dad. “Mum took me to the airport and asked the lady for tickets, but there weren’t any, so we went home and Mum locked herself in her bedroom and cried all afternoon. She used to cry a lot when I was little, but she doesn’t do it so much now.”
    Akbar looked at Sarah. He put his hand on her arm. She could feel the strength of his touch through the thick wool of her coat. However, she couldn’t meet his eyes. If she looked at him, it would only tell him how much she’d missed him all these years and how much she still loved him.
    “Ali, button up your coat,” she said to change to subject. “You’ll catch a cold.”
    Akbar didn’t say anything and they walked on in silence until they reached the restaurant.
    Sarah picked up another chicken leg and took a small bite. It was getting late and Ali had school in the morning. However, it wasn’t everyday that Ali had the chance to sit with his father and be the centre of attention. She would give them another fifteen minutes and then she would go and get him. She knew it wasn’t acceptable in Arabic culture for a woman to interrupt a group of men, but this was London, and Ali was her son. However, just a few minutes later, Akbar came back to the table where she was sitting alone.
    “I’m so sorry I left you here by yourself, but I’ve just met my old childhood friend, Yacoub,” he said, pointing to Hassan’s dad. “His family left Yazan when he was young and we haven’t seen each other for years! I’ve been telling him all about home and showing off my son. It’s wonderful to see him again, almost as wonderful as being with you. I’m so happy.” Then to the surprise of the family that sat next to