Mouza - Part 01
One afternoon Kip was returning to his work station from his final class when a student suddenly appeared in front of him, clutching her books to her side. He had not been paying attention to where he was going and she simultaneously brushed against him, while at the same time pressed a note into his hand. He was completely taken by surprised by her the feel of her hand on his, not to mention her ample breast brushing against his arm. He had not realise there was a note until it fell out of his hand and on to the floor at his feet. He scooped to pick it up calling to the girl that she had dropped something. 'It's for your sir,' she called behind her, not stopping and vanishing into a group of girls.
It took a second but then the penny finally dropped and looking around to check if no one else had witnessed the event, apparently they had not and Kip slipped the note into his pocket as he carried on briskly to the staff room where he poured himself a large mug full of black coffee and headed for his desk.
Written in a neat hand on a flower and heart strewn sheet of paper the note began with 'My Dearest Mr. Kip' and was signed at the bottom 'Mouza' above a phone number. Between the two, the note proclaimed affection, spoke of her inability to sleep, a desire to talk openly, a willingness to meet and the assurance of secrecy. It ended with an apology for wasting his time if he didn't want her to contact him again. He was reading it a third time when Dave, his stoic cell mate arrived and placing tea, KitKat and specs on the only six square inches of space left clear on book filled desk slumped into his swivel chair. On seeing Kip with the pink edged paper deep in thought, he said in his 'Eeyore' tone.
'See you got yourself a love letter. I never get any, not even cards on Valentine's Day. Bugger all!'
'Everyone get cards on Valentine's Day, Dave. Even Sam the Indian fucking teaboy gets one and he's older and uglier than you. Besides, you know the Student's Union send them out in bulk to stop gossip.'
'I don't, no tell a lie, I got one once.' Dave continued, not listening to a word Kip was saying. 'One with a chocky attached but it turned out it was for another Mr. David who had left the summer before, or died, never found out which.'
'Here, read this. It may cheer you up.'
David took the note and read it while he sipped his tea.
'Do you know her?' he asked, handing it back.
'No, she's a first semester student, I think. I didn't see much of her face. Small thing, slim build. However, she barreled into me in like a rugby pro. I think she came out of Anna's class, I could pull up the class list for 11.10 to 12.00, see if there's a Mouza in the group. Do you think you could lift prints from this?'
'Shred it, Sherlock.'
'No, no, no, this is too important to shred. This will make a fine offering to the lovely Maria. But first, Dear Watson, a copy.'
Kip made a copy and as soon as it appeared in the tray he smudged the last few letters of her name. Then he folded it twice and place that into his side pocket. The original he folded and placed into an envelope from the small stationary tray next to the photocopier, sealed it and dropped it into his jacket pocket.
Dave who had been watching this pantomime from his seat, shook his head and raise his eye to the heavens 'Be careful you don't end up with you own Emirati Morriati.' he warned and turned back to check his emails.
Kip approached the lovely Maria's office of Student Welfare & Planning with some in trepidation. Through the frosted glass of her office wall he could see that she was alone. He slipped into the gents to take a leak to run through his thoughts again. He had no intentions of identify the student so she was in no danger, it was evident by the letter that she had approached him first, and he was handing the letter over in good faith. The idea was to show him in a good light and put the dampers on any rumours that he might be harbouring unclean thought of wishing to shag students which in truth he didn't. He was surrounded by young horny Emirati girls but he was no pussy hound. He knew that given the number of students, over three hundred, over time several like Mouza would approach him and if he was careful he would experience some interesting encounters.
No teacher ever got fired for receiving a note from a student. The trick was never to over react. Never to make a fuss, fusses have a habit of coming back and biting you in the arse.
Kip knew that the door to the office of Student Welfare & Planning was always open. It said so on a sign taped on the closed door. Some wag had once blue tacked a printed 'Family' above the 'Planning' and it not been noticed for a several days. A stern email had been sent out by Sally, head of 'Housing and College Maintenance.' instructing people not to tamper with college property. The joker struck again putting 'Child' above 'Maintenance' on her door.
Pausing only to listen that she was not on the phone Kip knocked and stuck his head in. The lovely Maria who Kip knew came from Lebanon, Jordon or some other non-Gulf State looked up from her desk top screen and gave him a lovely smile.
'Got a minute?'
'Sure, Kip come in. Please take a seat'
There was a twang to her accent, American or Canadian, possibly the latter.
Pleasantries were exchanged. How was Kip getting on? She hoped RAK wasn't too quiet after the big city. Ay!
So, she had studied in Canadian, possibly the French side, Montreal and he'd bet she was Lebanese.
'So, tell me. How can I help?'
'Hypothetical situation.'
Sorry?
'Er, unforeseen imaginary event.'
