'We're old friends… These past few days I've seen you more than your neighbors have in years. I've thought more about you, more than those closest to you ever could. How can you say I don't know you?'
He spoke calmly and without hesitation. She listened carefully, doing her best to remember every word. Taking care to conceal the natural harshness in her voice, she now spoke in a modulated tone: 'Why are you following me?'
'Why am I following you?' he asked in mock surprise. 'Why do I neglect my business and sit in the cafe looking up at your window? Why have I given up my whole world and gone to live in Midaq Alley? And why have I waited for so long?'
'I didn't ask you so you could answer with those stupid questions,' she snapped. 'I just don't like you following me and talking to me.'
'Didn't you know that men follow beautiful women wherever they are? This is a basic principle of life. If a girl like you were not followed, then there's something wrong in the world; it would mean that the day of resurrection were indeed near.'
At that she turned into an alley where her friends lived. She hoped they might see her being courted by this handsome man in a European suit. She could see the mosque square looming ahead in the distance:
'Go away,' she said. 'People know me here.'
His gaze fixed on her told him she was enjoying every minute of this intrigue. A smile crossed his lips, which, had she seen it, would have kindled her fighting spirit.
'But this isn't your quarter, nor are these people relatives of yours. You are completely different. You don't belong here at all.'
His words pleased her more than anything anyone had ever said to her. He continued to speak: 'How can you live among these people? Who are they compared to you? You are a princess in a shabby cloak, while these peasants strut in their new finery…'
'What's it to do with you? Go away,' she said angrily.
'I will never go away.'
'What do you want?' she asked.
With extraordinary audacity, he answered, 'I want you, nothing but you.' This directness almost made her stumble.
'I wish you were dead,' she blurted out.
'God forgive you. Why are you angry? Aren't you on this earth to be taken? And I'm just the one to take you.'
They passed several shops on their way when suddenly she turned to him and shouted, 'Don't take another step. If you do…'
'You'll hit me?' he asked, with that sardonic smile.
'Indeed I will.'
'We'll see. Now I must leave you, but I'll wait for you every day. I won't return to the cafe, so no one will be suspicious. But I'll wait for you every single day… every day. God be with you then. You're the lovliest creature God ever created.'
She continued on her way in a trancelike state of ecstasy. 'You are different.' Yes, and what else had he said? 'You don't belong here… Aren't you on this earth to be taken?… And I'm just the one to take you.' And then he had asked, 'You will hit me?' She hurried along scarcely aware of anything about her. When she reached her room she came to her senses a bit. She asked herself how she could talk to a strange man without feeling the slightest shame. Yes, she had done just as she pleased. She laughed out loud. Then she recalled how she had wanted to dig her fingernails in his neck, and she felt sad for a moment. She made excuses to herself that he had spoken to her most politely, even showing more than common courtesy. Yet she sensed he was really a tiger waiting to pounce. She determined to withhold judgment till he revealed his true self. And then? How sorry she'd make him!
21
Dr. Booshy was just about to leave his flat when Mrs. Afify's maid arrived and asked him to come and see her mistress. The 'doctor's' face clouded as he asked himself what she could want and whether it might mean an increase in his rent. He soon dismissed the thought. After all, how could Mrs. Afify violate the military regulations that controlled rents for the duration of the war? He left the flat and climbed the stairs, scowling as he went.
Like all her tenants, Dr. Booshy disliked Mrs. Saniya Afify and never missed a chance to criticize her miserliness. Once he had gone around saying that she had intended to build a wooden room on top of the building so she could live there and rent her own flat. Most of all he disliked her because he had not once been able to avoid paying his rent to her. She always sought out Radwan Hussainy if she had any difficulty, and Dr. Booshy intensely disliked having to go and see him. He tapped on the door, saying a silent prayer and asking God's mercy and forgiveness in preparation for the trial ahead.
Mrs. Afify, exuding a strong scent, opened the door and invited him into the reception room. He accepted and sat down, drinking the coffee the servant brought. She quickly explained what she wanted. 'I called you in, Doctor, for you to examine my teeth.'
A new interest gleamed in Dr. Booshy's eyes and he was overcome by this unexpected good fortune. For the first time in his life he felt friendly toward her as he asked, 'I hope you don't have a tooth hurting you?'
'Oh no, thanks be to God,' Mrs. Afify explained. 'But I have lost some of my back teeth and a few of the others are a little rotten…'
Dr. Booshy's good mood increased as he recalled the alley rumor that Mrs. Afify was soon to become a bride.
'Well now, the best thing for you is to have a new set.'
'That's what I thought, but would it take very long?'
Dr. Booshy got up and went over to her, saying, 'Open your mouth…'
She opened her mouth wide and he peered into it carefully. The few teeth he saw surprised and annoyed him. However, he knew he must tread carefully. 'Well now, we'll need several days to take out these teeth, and then we'll have to wait six months before putting in the plate. That way the gums dry out and meanwhile you can rest your mouth.'
Mrs. Afify raised her painted eyebrows in alarm; she was hoping to be married in two or three months. Anxiously she replied, 'No, no. I want a quick job. It must be done in a month.'
'A month?' said Dr. Booshy. 'Impossible!'
'All right, goodbye then,' snapped Mrs. Afify.
He deliberately let a moment or two pass and then spoke: 'There is a way, if you like.'
She realized he was bargaining and it made her angry. However, she decided to overlook this, as she needed him.
'What way is that?'
'I could make you a gold plate. It could be put in immediately after the extractions.'
Panic gripped her as she contemplated the cost of a gold plate. She almost rejected the doctor's suggestion, but she couldn't put off the impending wedding. How could she possibly go to her bridegroom with her mouth in its present decayed state? How would she ever have the courage to smile at him? Moreover, everyone in the alley knew that Dr. Booshy's fees were reasonable and that he somehow got plates that he sold at ridiculously low prices. No one ever asked where he got them; people cared only that they were cheap.
'How much would a set cost?'
Dr. Booshy was not the slightest taken in by her apparent indifference. He replied, 'Ten pounds.'
She had no idea of the actual cost of gold plates, but she put on a shocked expression of incredulity. 'Ten pounds!'
Dr. Booshy flew into a rage. 'Do you realize it would cost fifty pounds if you went to those dentists who treat their skills as a trade. People like me are just unlucky fellows, that's all.'
They set about bargaining, he doing his best to keep it up and she to bring it down. Eventually they agreed on
