Ali released a small sigh as he vacated the halal chicken shop.
He should have known.
He should have known that after six months of deceitfully claiming to look after the terror that was his daughter Leena's cat, something terrible would happen. Jerry Stokes had blamed the woman he had just met, so Ali had done the same, and now he needed her help.

Milton Keynes was a relatively unknown city to most, but being a location so close to London ensured that traffic was always a nightmare. The busy roads and blaring horns caused his spine to concave and shrink as he shoved his fists into his pockets. For the middle of March, most of the country had been blessed to have been spared from the rain, but not even the good weather could lift his spirits. Now, Ali was at wits ends to find his cat, and if he didn't, there would be hell to pay.

He ran his finger's through his thinning hair as he waited at the traffic light to turn red. It was almost 6 pm, and the bright glow of the sun reminded him that it would soon be time to pray. The benefit of living independently meant there was no one waiting for him at home, and so he crossed the road and moved in the direction towards the city centre, where locals he recognised were clustering outside of the mosque.

As a precaution, Ali always kept his state of purity, wudhu, and a prayer hat in his pocket, and so was quick to slide off his loafers and follow the men into the main prayer hall. His knee was aching from having spent the day walking without his brace, but he ignored the pain as he trekked up the stairs, and found his space.

It was apparent that the call to prayer had been made, and as each male joined the row, they each stood shoulder to shoulder, their minds clear of what troubled them, which momentarily included Billy the cat, as they raised their hands in joint prayer.

"Ali!"
A voice he recognised well called his name, and he turned to see Omar, a close friend from Ali's childhood, offer a wave from across the prayer hall. Waiting patiently, he returned the smile as the slightly elder man swayed towards him.

Age had been kind to Omar, unlike it had been to Ali. His hair was still mostly black, a rarity in those aged over 60, and his real, yellowed teeth glowed in the dim light as they shook hands. Unlike his older friend, Ali's body often ached, it was rare he could sleep a full night without visiting the bathroom, and his eye sight only seemed to worsen with each passing day. Despite what his Leena insisted however, he would refuse to use his walking stick and wear his glasses until it was an absolute necessity.

"How are you?" Omar asked as he met him, shaking his hand as he grinned, following his lead to source his shoes.

"Good, good thanks," Ali confirmed, "yourself? How's Saffiya, Hala?"

"Hala is good, we're about to become grandparents! Saffiya's due any day now" Omar claimed as Ali beamed his joy. He could only hope his smile hid the small ache in his chest, as he considered the absence of grandchildren in his own life, as Omar added; "Hala's gone to stay with Saffiya for the next few weeks....fancy going out for some tea?"

A quick glance told Ali an extra hour out wouldn't be intolerable, and so he nodded, following Omar's direction to the small Moroccan tea house that was stationed on the corner of the street.

Inside, the furniture of the cafe was designed with hints of Moroccan culture, and immediately Ali felt the sequins dig into his back as they seated themselves at a booth in the far corner, besides the table.
As they awaited the arrival of the waiter, Ali quickly exchanged his pillow, testing the firmness of the two available to him, before making himself comfortable; only to to see his eldest friend observing him with a small smile.

"What's that look for?" he asked, sliding hand sanitiser from his pocket to clean his hands before adding some to the table and wiping it with a napkin for good measure.

"You just haven't changed," Omar shrugged, raising a single hand as a young woman approached. It wasn't a comment that Ali could find offensive, but the truth slightly stung as they made their orders, Ali requesting for his drink to be offered in a disposable cup. He had no intentions of leaving early, despite feeling uncomfortable, but he didn't doubt the germs on the porcelain glassware that were collecting dust on the shelf.

"How have you been? Really?" It was a question that Ali despised, and one that caused him to exhale through his nose, to politely hide his sigh. Most of the Milton Keynes Muslim community were aware of his circumstance and yet few hesitated to ask the inner details of his life.

"I've been fine," He confirmed, "Leena pops in every week to drop off the cat, so I see her, I don't have to go to physio anymore, so now I go to work and well...that's about it,"

"It's...well that's good," Omar confirmed, "I'm glad you're still going out,"

"I don't have much choice," Ali reminded, "I'll lose my mind if I live in that house, day in and day out...I pop in to see Apa every so often"

"How is she?" Omar asked, his interested now piqued. Alina, Ali's sister, known as Apa, to most of the town was perhaps the most respected elder that lived in the area. And that was not an exaggeration. Being ten years their senior, the 70-year-old, not only partook in most community based decisions, but she united everyone...and was an absolute pain. Ali couldn't do much, without his sister finding out about it, including the time he and Omar skipped school to go to the local park. Alina had turned up before they had even arrived, and dragged them to school by the ear, before scolding them after. No 15-year-old, wanted to be mothered by their sister, but she was all Ali had, and despite her annoying tendencies, he was also very lucky to have her.
"She's doing really well," Ali confirmed, "she had an appointment at the General hospital because I thought she might be diabetic-"

"Apa always had a soft spot for sweets-"

"I found a finished box of laddoos last time I went," Ali sighed, ignoring his friend's small chuckle in response, "but no, she is not diabetic, and somehow, still has most of her teeth. She's doing great-"

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Omar beamed, giving the pair the opportunity to drink their tea, before it cooled.

"How are things with Leena?" Omar knew the question was touchy, but the reminder of his daughter, caused Ali to spill the truth.

"She's really well, from what I've seen...we've been trying," he expressed, "but erm...I think it's all gone down the drain."

"How do you mean?" Omar frowned, as Ali sighed looking down at the remaining tea leaves in his polystyrene cup before placing it back on the table.

"I've lost the damn cat," His grumble was low, but loud enough for Omar to hear, and await further information.  "Leena has a cat named Billy, and when she started to work in London she needed a cat-sitter. We weren't talking at the time, but I thought I'd offer..."

"But you hate cats," Omar reminded and Ali nodded in confirmation.

"I do," he sighed, "but Leena promised that Billy was okay...but she forgot to say he has attachment issues." AlI ignored his best friend's hilarity as he continued, "and so for the first two weeks it was fine, but then Billy started to get depressed...and I couldn't return her cat when he was depressed! So, I've been taking him to the animal hotel, just so that they can look after him properly...he seemed to like it there"
"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you," Omar sniggered as he curled his upper lip.

"You have no idea," Ali sighed, shuffling against the pillows once more, in an attempt to get comfortable. "Someone lost him at the hotel, so now he's missing. Leena will be back on Friday if I don't find him before then..."
The roar of laughter he received in return forced Ali to shake his head in dismay. He should have known better than to have trust his friend to give support

"He'll turn up," Omar promised as Ali sent a prayer, hoping his friend was right.

"I hope so," was all he could muster as they collected their things, paid for their food and retraced their steps towards the mosque for the fourth prayer of the night.

The sun had set by the time he had exited the domed building, and a glance at the time confirmed his plans for the evening. Calling an Uber, a black car arrived promptly, already knowing the address he'd entered via the app.

He arrived at his sister's home in no time and unlocked the door, with his own key, to loud Bollywood music. An elder woman was sat on the weathered couch, her eyes glazed with glee as she sang along to the music echoing from the television, her hands clapping to the beat. The wallpaper had been glued on in the mid 80-s, orange that had now dulled with age and the curtains were moth eaten,  but this was his sister's home. She would be out of place, in any other setting, even if the walls were given a lick of paint, despite how quenched they appeared.

"Apa," he called, entering the room causing her to jump.

"Ali, are you here for dinner?" Alina asked as he picked up the remote to turn down the loud noise.

"Yes," he grinned, straightening the pillow cushions of where she'd likely sat earlier. "Did you want anything particular today?"

"I was just going to have to leftovers," she replied as he snuck a glance at her. She seemed well. Her grey hair was a little unkempt, and her clothes were old, but that was out of his sister's stubbornness to hold onto everything she owned, including old dinner apparently. There was nothing visible to be concerned about, not that it was ever this way around. Apa had cared for Ali, for as long as he remembered, he just hoped tonight would be one of the rare occasions in which she didn't fuss. Ali should have known better than to have assumed.

"Have that tomorrow," he suggested, returning his thoughts to dinner, "I'll make anything you like," Ali offered as her lips widened in a grin, causing the lines to deepen and fold, further showing her age.

"Anything?" she repeated, and he nodded gaining an immediate answer in return "then kofta please,"

Ali released a knowing chuckle, handing over the remote as he moved towards the kitchen to prepare their dinner of meatball curry.
It was one of his sister's favourites, and it didn't take him long to source the meat and marinade it.

Ali had shared dinner with his sister for almost half a decade. She was his primary source of social interaction, and despite their bickering, he was fond of her company.
It had become their routine, and he knew Apa enjoyed their company just as much as he did hers. Due to the nature of his working life, however, daily visits had reduced to every three days, but it meant that they had even more to catch up with when they saw one another.

Dinner didn't take him long, and Ali made the chapattis whilst the curry was simmering, ensuring that dinner was prepared and ready by 8:30 pm. After a quick wash of the dishes he'd used, he moved the food to the dining table before making his way to the lounge once more.
The volume was once more turned up, but this time he didn't lower the ear-splitting noise as he encouraged his gran to leave the safety of her sofa.

"Can't we just eat in here?" she asked, and he offered a pointed look as he outstretched her hand, forcing her to comply. "It smells so good," Apa commented as he pulled out her chair, and she smiled in thanks, spooning out a portion before Ali mirrored the action for himself.

Ali wasn't a genius in the kitchen. All of his dishes were well-rehearsed and straight from a recipe or what he had been taught. Still, it meant that he had perfected what he could make, and his sister's coos as she dined was a slight hint that tonight's dinner had met her expectation.

"So, how are things?" She asked, "Leena?" The remainder of his daughter caused Ali to pause momentarily and take a sip of water as he sighed. "What's wrong?" she asked, catching his instant change in mood.

"I lost the cat," he grumbled. "Billy gets depressed when Leena leaves, so I've been dropping him off at the hotel at the local pet shop, and they...misplaced him,"

"Ali!" His sister scolded him, choosing not to comfort his predicament. "What are you like! He's a cat; you should have been loving him, not shipping him off-"

"I didn't know what else to do," he sighed, running a hand through his hair as a bubble of laughter slipped through his grandma's lips. "It's not funny!" He insisted as she cackled. "Leena has been nothing but good to me since she she moved closer to home, and I've destroyed her trust by losing her cat..."

"Ali," his sister sighed, placing down the flatbread in her hands, "have you told her yet?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"I was hoping to find him; she's back on Friday,"

"Well then, you best start looking," his sister suggested, "he's a good cat; he can't have gone far,"
Ali only nodded in agreement, choosing not to relay the truth. Billy was a nightmare, even on his best behaviour. Ali didn't like things he couldn't control, and an animal was at the top of the list.

Still, the feline had begun to mend the relationship he had with his daughter, and Ali loved his enough to compromise. Only now, he was facing the consequences.

"I've arranged some time to look for him," He expressed, "and I was given the name of the girl who admitted him to the hotel, so she said she'd help if he didn't turn up in the next few days,"

"Well, that's kind of her," Apa smiled as jaw hardened, not mirroring her appreciation.

"She was probably the one who messed everything up," he retorted, his anger once more causing hilarity to beam in her aged brown eyes.

"You'll find him," she appeased, tapping his shoulder with her clean hand before collecting the dishes and moving them to the sink.

They cleaned up together, and after a cup of tea, Ali returned to the mild cold of spring, choosing to take the long route home in search of the cat that could very much make or break the relationship he had with his only child.