The World Unseen by Shamim Sarif Read Free Book Online Page B

but he has such a grown-up air to him sometimes. This morning he came downstairs and asked me to dance with him…”
     
    “They’re taking lessons,” interjected Joyce.
     
    “…and it reminded me exactly,” continued Martha, “of when David first asked me to dance one night at a party. That was when he proposed to me.” She shook her head. “Those were the days. Romance and love letters and excitement! It feels like another lifetime.”
     
    Miriam smiled, and busied herself refreshing the tea cups. Romance, love letters, excitement. She knew nothing of any of these things. Omar’s proposal had been conveyed to her through her mother and grandfather, and she had not had to make a choice, for they had already accepted on her behalf. Perplexed and worried, she had followed her family into the front room of his uncle’s house, demure and well-covered, and as she entered, Miriam had caught the faint remnants of his cigar smoke, and it had occurred to her at once that she had been aware of this smell for many weeks now, curling up from the balcony beneath. She had not, during all that time, comprehended it as a single, new aroma. Rather, she had been only dimly aware of it, and had accepted it as a new addition to the mingled, familiar scents of spice and sweat and heat. She had breathed it into her body, unwittingly accepting the insidious invasion of the curling smoke. Her eyes had remained downcast, as was expected of her, throughout the short interview that was held to begin the wedding arrangements, but as she had followed with her eyes the pattern of the brush strokes on the newly swept floor, she had tried to comfort herself with the idea that, because of the intrusion of his cigar smoke, she had actually known this man longer than she had realised and that this tall, handsome stranger, whose eyes she had never yet looked into, was therefore already somehow a part of her.
     
    “Anyway, the romance is always the first thing to go,” sighed Martha. She handed the children’s photographs to Miriam who smiled admiringly, although what occurred to her now was that Sam would now never be able to be at school or even in the same part of a public park as these boys with blond hair. Had he ever even seen a blond-haired child, she wondered? She decided that he must have, in Springs, around town, but she couldn’t be sure.
    “Are you all right, dear?” asked Joyce Kaplan, and Miriam looked up and smiled.
     
    “Will you have some more tea?” Miriam asked, and picked up the pot.
     
    Her bouts of nausea were short, but were becoming more and more frequent as the afternoon wore on, and she felt herself begin to perspire slightly with the effort of entertaining. She felt that the women had been sitting there for an age, and took surreptitious, deep breaths to try to calm her stomach. When she felt almost certain that she could fight it no more, she heard the sound of the men’s voices becoming more distinct - a loud laugh and some banter between the Kaplan brothers as they emerged with Omar from the other room.
     
    “Come, my dears, we must be going. We have troubled these good people long enough,” said George Kaplan, extending his arm towards the ladies. They placed their cups carefully back on the tray, picked up their handbags, straightened their dresses - all the little movements required before a leave-taking.
     
    “My dear - your cake… ” commented George to Miriam. “Out of this world, as always.”
     
    “It was very nice, thank you,” added David, placing his hat upon his head.
     
    She smiled, by way of accepting the compliment, and waited as the couples made their way to the door, chatting idly, winding down the visit, reluctant to leave and to be in the heat of the car. She felt her stomach turn once more, and pursed her lips against the feeling. So slow the Kaplans were to get into their beautiful vehicle, so slowly the driver turned over the smooth engine. She stood there, fighting the