Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed loudly to conceal his confusion. Then he felt forced to say almost desperately, "Don't be a mule.
I asked you to invite just Zubayda so Zanuba would be left alone in the house."
"Zanuba, you son of a gun."
After laughing long and hard he asked, "Why all this trouble? Why didn't you ask for her that first night on the houseboat? If you had moved a finger, she would have flown over and stuck to you like glue."
Despite his painful resentment, he smiled inanely. Then he said, "Carry out my instructions. That's all I want."
Twisting his mustache, Muhammad Iffat appropriated a phrase about idolatry from the Qur'an: "Feeble are the one who seeks and the one sought" (22:73).
With extreme earnestness Ahmad Abd al-Jawad requested, "Let this be a secret between us."
80
The street was empty and pitch black when he knocked on the door at about nine o'clock. It opened after a while, but the person inside remained hidden. Then a voice that made his heart tremble asked, "Who is it?"
He replied calmly, "Me."
Entering without being invited, he closed the door behind him and found himself face to face with her. She stood on the bottom step, holding out her hand with the lamp, and gave him a surprised look before muttering, "You!"
He stood there silently for a time, and his faint smile revealed his apprehension and anxiety. Encountering no objection or anger on her part, he felt courageous enough to ask, "Is this how you welcome an old friend?"
She turned away and started back up the stairs saying, "Come in."
He followed her quietly, concluding from her having opened the door herself that she was alone and that the position of the maid Jaljal, who had died two years before, remained vacant. He accompanied her to the vestibule, where she hung the lamp on a nail near the door. She went on alone into the reception room, where she lit the large lamp hanging from the ceiling. This served to confirm his hunch. She came back out, gestured to him to enter, and vanished.
Proceeding into the room, he took a seat on the middle sofa, where he had been accustomed to sit in the old days. Removing his fez, he placed it on the pillow that divided the seat in half. He stretched his leg out as he cast a questioning look at his surroundings. He remembered the place as though he had only left it a day or two before. There were the three sofas, the armchairs, the Persian carpet, the three tables inlaid with mother-of-pearl. … Things were much as they had been. Could he remember the last time he had sat there? His memories about the music room and the bedroom were clearer and firmer, but he could not forget the first meeting he had had with Zubayda in this room, in exactly this spot. He could recall everything that had transpired. Back then no one had been more sure of himself and relaxed than he was. When would she return? What impact had his visit made on her? How overbearing would her conceit be? Had she realized that he had come because of her and not her aum:?
"If you fail this time, you can kiss the whole affair goodbye."
He heard the muffled tread of slippers. Then Zanuba appeared at the door in a white dress decorated with red roses. She wore a spangled sash and was bareheaded, and her hair was arranged in two thick braids that hung down her back. He greeted her… erect, smiling, and optimistic because of the care she had taken to adorn herself. She acknowledged his presence with a smile and motioned for him to sit down. She took a place on the sofa halfway down the wall on his right, as she said with mild astonishment, "Welcome. What a surprise!"
Al-Sayyid Ahmad smiled and asked, "What kind of surprise, I wonder?"
Kaisitig her eyebrows enigmatically, with no hint as to whether she was in earnest or in jest, she replied, "Pleasant, of course."
"Since we've allowed our feet to carry ushere," he reflected, "we must put up with whatever style of flirtation she chooses, whether delicate or heavy-handed."
He sc rutinized her body and face calmly, as though to isolate in them the features that had tormented him and played havoc with his dignity.
They were both silent until she turned to look at him. Although she saic. nothing, the motion of her head suggested a polite inquiry, as if saying, "We're at your service."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad asked her slyly, "Will we have to wait long for the sultana? Hasn't she finished dressing yet?"
She gave him a strange look, narrowed her eyes, and then said, "The sultana's not at home."
Pretending to be amazed, he inquired, "Where do you suppose she is?"
Shaking her head and smiling mysteriously, she answered, "Your guess is as good as mine."
He thought about her reply a little and then said, "I would have supposed she kept you informed of her whereabouts."
She waved her hand modestly and said, "You think too highly of us". Then, laughing, she continued: "The time of military rule is over. If you want, you're in a much better position to keep abreast of her activities than I am."
"Me?"
"Why not? Aren't you an old friend of hers?"
Treating her to a deep, eloquent, smiling look, he said, "An old friend and a stranger are much the same. I wonder if your former friends keep up with you?"
She raised her right shoulder and made a face, proclaiming, "I have no friends, neither old nor new."
He started toying with one end of his mustache and responded, "Talk like that would only fool a person totally lacking in sense. A man with any wits about him could not imagine men seeing you and not rushing to become your friends."
"That's what gracious men like you might imagine, but that's all it is figments of your imagination. You provide the evidence that I'm right. Although you're an old friend of this house, were you ever moved to provide me with a share of that friendship?"
He frowned in confusion. After some hesitation he said, "At that time I was… I mean, there were circumstances…"
She snapped her fingers and said sarcastically, "Perhaps it was those same circumstances, alas, that have kept the others away from me too."
In a quick, theatrical gesture he reared back against the sofa. Then he looked down his large nose at her, shaking his head as though asking God to rescue him. Finally he commented, "You're a puzzle. I hereby confess that I'm helpless before you."
She hid the smile his praise had inspired and pretended to be astonished as she said, "I absolutely do not understand what you mean. It's clear that we're mountains apart. The important thing is that you said you came to see my aunt. Is there any message I can give her when she returns?"
Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed briefly. Then he replied, "Tell her, 'Ahmad Abd al-Jawad came to complain about me and didn't find you in.'"
"To complain about me? What have I done?"
"Tell her that I came to gripe about the harsh treatment you meted out to me. It's not becoming to a beautiful woman."
"What a perfect remark for a man who makes everything grist for his jokes and banter…."
He sat up straight and said earnestly, "God forbid that I should make you the subject of my jokes or banter. I'm serious about my complaint. I think you understand the allusion perfectly well, but are flirting the way beautiful women do. They have every right to flirt, but they also have a duty to show mercy."
She pursed her lips and said, "Amazing!"
"It's not amazing at all. Do you remember what happened yesterday in the shop of Ya'qub the goldsmith? Was this stiff reception all that a person merits who is as proud of your friendship as I am and who has known you for as long? I wish, for example, that you had appealed to me to assist you in your negotiations with the goldsmith. I would have liked for you to give me a chance to put my expertise to work for you or for you to go even one step further and leave the whole matter to me, as though the bracelet were mine or its owner my good friend…."