Her statement reminded him of her reference to things she had heard. He asked her with interest, "Who’s been talking to you about me?"
She replied tersely, giving him an accusing look, "Jalila".
This name took him by surprise. It was like a critic interrupting their tête-à-tête. He smiled in a way that showed he was uncomfortable. Jalila was the famous performer he had loved for such a long time, until they separated after the fire had died in their romance. They continued to like each other but had gone their separate ways. Relying on his experience with women, he thought he had better say, as though he really meant it, "God curse her face and voice!" Then, trying to avoid this topic, he continued: "Let’s skip all this and talk seriously".
She asked sarcastically, "Doesn't Jalila deserve a gentler and more gracious comment? Or are you always like this when you talk about a woman you've dumped?"
Al-Sayyid Ahmad felt a little uneasy, but he was awash with the sexual conceit aroused in him when a new lover discussed one of his former girlfriends. He enjoyed the sweet intoxication of triumph for some time. Then he remarked with his customary suavity, "In the presence of beauty like yours, I'm unable to put it aside for memories that are buried and forgotten".
Although the sultana retained her ironic look, she responded to the praise by raising her eyebrows and concealing a faint smile that had stolen across her lips. All the same, she addressed him scornfully: "A merchant is generous with his sweet talk until he gets what he wants".
"We merchants deserve to go to paradise because people are so unfair to us".
She shrugged her shoulders with disdain and then asked him with unconcealed interest, "When were you seeing each other?"
He waved his arm as if to say, "What a long time ago!" Then he muttered, "Ages and ages ago".
She laughed mockingly and said in a tone of revenge, "In the days of your youth, which have passed".
He looked at her reproachfully and said, "I wish I could suck the venom from your tongue".
She continued with what she was saying in the same tone: "She took you in when your flesh was firm and left you nothing but bones".
He gestured with his forefinger to caution her, saying, "I'm one of those hardy men who get married in their sixties".
"Motivated by passion or senility?"
He roared with laughter and said, "Lady, fear God. Let’s have a serious talk".
"Serious?… You mean about the evening’s entertainment you came to arrange?"
"I seek entertainment for a whole lifetime".
"A whole lifetime or just half?"
"May our Lord grant us what is good for us…"
"May our Lord grant us what is pleasant".
He secretly requested God’s forgiveness in advance before he asked, "Shall we recite the opening prayer of the Qur'an?"
She jumped up suddenly, ignoring his invitation, and cried out in alarm, "My Lord… it’s later than I thought. I have an important engagement tonight".
Al-Sayyid Ahmad rose too. He stretched out his hand to take hers. He spread open her palm tinted with henna and looked at it with desire and fascination. He kept on holding it even after she tried repeatedly to withdraw it. Finally she pinched his finger and raised her hand to his mustache. She shouted menacingly to him, "Let go of me or you'll leave my house with only half a mustache".
He saw that her forearm was near his mouth. He abandoned the dispute and slowly brought his lips to her arm until they sank into its soft flesh. A delicious fragrance of carnations wafted from her. He sighed and murmured, "Till tomorrow?"
She escaped from his hand without any resistance this time. She gave him a lengthy look. Then she smiled and recited softly:
My sparrow, Mother, my little bird,
I'll play and show him what I have learned.
She repeated these lines several times as she saw him out. Al-Sayyid Ahmad left the room singing the opening of this song in a low voice both dignified and sedate. He seemed to be examining the words for their hidden meaning.
16
In the home of the singer Zubayda there was a room like a hall in the middle of her residence that was dubbed the recital chamber. Actually it was a hall for which new uses had been found. Perhaps the most important of these for her and her troupe was rehearsing their songs and learning new material. It had been chosen because it was far from the public street and separated from it by bedrooms and reception chambers. Its size also made it a suitable location for her private parties, which usually were either exorcisms or recitals to which she would invite her special friends and close acquaintances. The motive for hosting these parties was not simply generosity, for any generosity manifested was almost always that of the guests themselves. The aim was to increase the number of fine friends able to invite her to perform at their parties or to help promote her by praising her in the circles where they were received. It was also from these men that she selected lover after lover.
Now it was al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad’s turn to honor the festive hall, accompanied by some of his most distinguished acquaintances. He had displayed boundless energy following the daring meeting that had taken place between them at her house. His messengers had immediately taken her a generous gift of candied nuts and dried fruit, sweets and other presents, in addition to a stove he commissioned which was decorated with silver plate. These gifts were all a token of the affection to follow. Leaving the guest list entirely up to him, the sultana had invited him to a get-acquainted party in honor of their newfound love.
The chamber was remarkable for its attractive, Egyptian look. A row of comfortable sofas with brocade upholstery, suggesting both luxury and dissipation, stretched out on either side of the sultana’s divan, which was flanked by mattresses and cushions for her troupe. The long expanse of floor was covered with carpets of many different colors and types. On a table suspended from the right wall, halfway along it, candles were arranged in candelabra where they looked as lovely and intense as a beauty mark on a cheek. There was a huge lamp hanging from the peak of a skylight in the center of the ceiling. The skylight’s windows looked out on the roof terrace and were left open on warm evenings, but closed when it was cold.
Zubayda sat cross-legged on the divan. At her right was Zanuba, the lute player, her foster daughter. On her left was Abduh, the blind performer on the zitherlike qanun. The women of the troupe sat on both sides, some clasping tambourines, others stroking their conical drums or playing with finger cymbals. The sultana had selected for al-Sayyid Ahmad the first seat on the right. The other men, his friends, found places for themselves without any hesitation, as though they lived there. This was not odd since there was nothing novel about the situation for them and it was not the first time they had seen the sultana. Al-Sayyid Ahmad presented his friends to the performer, beginning with al-Sayyid Ali, the flour merchant.
Zubayda laughed and said, "Al-Sayyid Ali is no stranger to me. I performed at his daughter’s wedding last year".
Then he turned to the copper merchant. One of the men accused him of being a fan of the vocalist Bamba Kashar, and the merchant quickly remarked, "Lady, I've come to repent".
The introductions continued until everyone was presented. Then Jaljal, the maid, brought in glasses of wine and served the guests. The men started to feel a vitality mixed with liberality and mirth. Al-Sayyid Ahmad was undeniably the bridegroom of the party. His friends called him that and he felt it too, deep inside. At first he had been a little uncomfortable in a way rare for him but had concealed his discomfort with an extra amount of laughter and mirth. Once he began drinking, the embarrassment left him spontaneously and his composure returned. He threw himself wholeheartedly into the excitement.