It was a foggy grey day in London Tamara remembers the grey clouds.
How different were they from the white wisps and blue sky of Karachi.
She also remembers how cold it was. The cold air of London was what hit her first when she walked outside of the airport. Her father led her and her mother and her brother to the car in the car park.
The car belonged to his friend Samir who also had been there at the Arrival gate waiting eagerly for them.
Tamara of course ran to her father’s open arms not caring whether her mother liked this or not as soon as she saw Mr Alvi standing there smiling at her.
His dimples seemed more pronounced than the photo she had seen of him. She saw how they disappeared when he stopped smiling. For some reason she thought dimples were permanent fixtures on a face.
Tamara also remembers smelling the distinct strong odour of the aftershave of her father’s Old Spice as she hugged him.
These two first impressions of her father imprinted on Tamara’s brain. Something she would not be able to shake off in the future. The visual of the dimples and the smell of the aftershave was something that at times gave her comfort and at other times haunted her.