‘Was each incident reported to the police?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m sure Taban would have, or their parents. Perhaps you can make enquiries and see what’s happening?’
‘I’ll look into it,’ he said, turning away.
‘Taban knows everything about the boys,’ she said. She was losing him. ‘You could start by talking with her.’
The chief turned back to Sofia and gave her a smile that came nowhere near his eyes. ‘Leave it to me, Dr Sofia. As I said, I’ll look into it.’ He turned away again and she grabbed his arm, immediately letting it go in horror at what she had done.
‘You’ll let me know what you discover?’ she pleaded, knowing she had tried his patience for far too long.
‘I will, but you must remember,’ the chief said, pointing his finger at her, ‘if these little boys want to run away, there’ll not be much chance of finding them.’
‘Four? Four boys from the same neighbourhood in two months? Four boys with desperate parents? Don’t you think there’s something wrong?’
The chief sighed. ‘As I said, I’ll see what I can do, but if you will excuse me now, Dr Sofia, I must have my lunch and return to work.’
Sofia watched him disappear into the house before returning to Rashid and Tawfiq squatting outside the gate, talking. ‘It’s lunchtime,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you two interested in eating?’
‘We’re waiting for you,’ Tawfiq said. ‘Do you need me this afternoon?’
‘No, and it looks like I mightn’t need you tomorrow because I’ll probably be going to Kandahar with MSF, so both of you can have the weekend off.’ The bonus of going with MSF was that the organisation seemed to be off limits for attacks from insurgency groups.
Tawfiq slid up the wall until he was standing. ‘We will take you like we always do.’
‘Wouldn’t you rather take the car and visit your family?’
‘Of course, but I have a job. Rashid and I will do this.’
Sofia put her hands on her hips, looking from one man to the other as Rashid flicked the butt of his cigarette into the square before standing also. ‘What’s really going on here?’
‘I think Dr Jabril will want us to do our job.’
Sofia shook her head. ‘This is the new security thing, isn’t it?’ Neither man spoke. ‘Okay, I’ll speak with Dr Jabril, but right now I’m going to the surgery. Rashid, do you need to walk me across the square?’
‘I do, Dr Sofia.’ As they walked off, Tawfiq headed over to Babur’s for lunch.
‘How are you today?’ she asked Iqbal when they reached the stairs.
‘Better than most days.’
She stopped. ‘And why is that?’
‘I think we have a little intrigue here in the square.’
‘Ah,’ Sofia said, crouching down in front of him. ‘And what intrigue would that be, my friend?’
‘I can’t tell you, can I, if you might have a part in it?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Have I got a part in it?’
‘I don’t know yet, do I?’
Deciding it had to be about Daniel, Sofia stood up again. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m not involved in any intrigue, Iqbal. I’m thinking there are too many vivid imaginations in the square.’
‘What else do we have to do?’ she heard him say as she disappeared up the stairs.
22
SOFIA ENTERED HER surgery to see that Iman had moved the two patients’ chairs to the window where she was waiting to have lunch with her boss. Smelling the food Babur had prepared for them, Sofia realised she was famished.
‘You know what I imagine when I walk down the street?’ Iman said, after taking a mouthful of her tangy braised sabzi with Afghan challaw rice.
‘I cannot even begin to think.’ Sofia knew from past experience that when Iman had that dreamy look on her face, whatever she was about to say would be highly entertaining and probably outrageous by Afghan standards.
‘I imagine I’m wearing a pair of sparkly gold sandals and a beautiful, short rainbow-coloured dress that fits tight around my body.’
‘Good for you. I see the rainbow theme’s still alive and well then?’ Babur’s kebabs drenched in yoghurt were delicious, as always.
‘Ah! We’re too dreary here. I need colour in my life.’ Iman ate some more food before continuing. ‘I can see this dress swinging from my hips as I walk.’ She considered this image to find it wanting. ‘No, I don’t walk, I flaunt.’ Iman tilted her chin up in imaginary defiance. ‘I flaunt that I’m a woman and that I’m powerful and proud of it, and those pious young men with their stupid scratchy beards and ignorant old men who are frightened of women will all blow a fuse when they see me walking down the street in my rainbow dress and gold sandals with attitude.’
Sofia laughed as she speared a piece of okra. ‘I can see it now, Iman. They’re definitely blowing their fuses.’
Iman became serious. ‘I’m a good Muslim and I know what’s in the Qur’an. I don’t need those ignorant mullahs to tell me what I can and can’t do, and if I want to wear a short rainbow dress I can. I’m not ashamed of being a woman.’
‘And neither should you be. Do you happen to own a short rainbow dress, by any chance?’
Iman laughed. ‘Where would I buy something like that in Kabul? When I go to America I’ll buy my short rainbow dress.’
‘Ah, you’re going to America?’
‘One day.’
‘And will you wear your short rainbow dress with your gold shoes in the street when you come home?’
‘Probably not.’ Iman gave Sofia a rueful smile. ‘I’m not that crazy, but in America I will and maybe one day I can here too. Did you know that before the civil war women used to wear dresses and shorts like women everywhere?’
‘I did. Dr Jabril’s told me many times about Kabul back then and I’ve seen photos of Zahra outside the Darul Aman Palace wearing a short skirt.’
‘I wish it was like that now. Oh, why was I born too late? Zahra’s still beautiful,
