‘The trouble was that the servants had not even bothered to lower their voices when the children were present and the disease was infectious. Zahra became extremely disaffected. Ibn Farid had been the centre of her life. He had married Asma and Zahra felt betrayed. Simply in order to snub her father, she turned down every suitor. She withdrew more and more into herself. She could go for days without talking to anyone.
‘Of course Ibn Farid had foreseen the effect of his marriage in the village. He was not unaware of the problems. For that reason he had hired a whole retinue of maids in Qurtuba to serve Asma, knowing that their primary loyalty would be to their new mistress. At their head he placed an older woman who had served in our family for many years but had run foul of Grandmother Najma’s tongue and had been exiled from the house. She had become a washerwoman in the village.
‘This woman had a son whose father was either a seller of figs in Qurtuba or one of our retainers who died in a siege near Malaka or… heaven alone knows. He was an extremely intelligent boy, and well educated thanks to the generosity of the Banu Hudayl. He studied with the same tutors as did my father and Aunt Zahra. Unlike them, he read a great deal and knew the work of the masters of philosophy, history, mathematics, theology and even medicine. He knew the books in our library better than anyone in the family. His name was Mohammed ibn Zaydun. He was also good-looking.
‘Your great-aunt fell in love with him. It was Ibn Zaydun who brought her out of her depression. It was he who encouraged her to write poetry, to think of the world outside this house and even beyond the frontiers of al-Andalus. He explained the circumstances of Ibn Farid’s marriage and convinced Zahra that it was not the fault of the Lady Asma. Thus he brought them together.
‘I think it was the knowledge that this servant’s boy had succeeded where he himself had failed so abysmally that caused Ibn Farid to develop an intense dislike for Ibn Zaydun. On one occasion he was heard to say: “If that boy is not careful with his tongue it might cost him his neck.” He began to punish the boy. He insisted that Mohammed be sent to work in the fields and learn a trade like anyone else. He suggested that Juan’s father could teach him carpentry or Ibn Hasd the skills of shoemaking. The boy was wise beyond his years. He felt the anger of his master, but he also understood the cause and began to shun the inner courtyard. Both Zahra and Asma pleaded with Ibn Farid not to be so rough on the young man. I think it was Grandmother Asma who finally succeeded in persuading my grandfather to let Ibn Zaydun teach Zahra and my father the principles of mathematics in a methodical way.
‘My father was rarely present. He was often away hunting or staying with our family in Gharnata. And so it was that Mohammed ibn Zaydun and Zahra bint Najma were in each other’s company every single day. What had to happen happened…’
Hind’s eyes were gleaming with excitement.
‘But why did they not just run away? I would have done so.’
‘All in good time, Hind. All in good time. There was a problem in the shape of another young woman. Like Zahra she was very beautiful, but unlike Zahra she was the daughter of an old retainer and worked as a young serving girl. Not so different from our Umayma. She was extremely intelligent, but without any formal learning, and she too wanted Ibn Zaydun for her husband. Naturally, Ibn Farid thought this was an excellent idea and instructed the parents of both to arrange the nuptials.
‘Zahra went mad. Perhaps I should not use that word. Let us say that she was in a very discomposed state when Ibn Zaydun told her what was being planned. She forced him to meet her that night in the pomegranate grove just outside the house…’
Hind shrieked with laughter, which was so infectious that everyone began to smile except Zuhayr. Her father demanded an explanation.
‘Some things never change, do they brother? Fancy them meeting in the pomegranate grove!’
Zuhayr’s complexion changed colour. His father understood the reference, smiled and diverted attention from his first-born by continuing Zahra’s story.
‘That night they acted as if they were husband and wife. The next morning Zahra went to Grandmother Asma and told her what had happened. Asma was shocked and told Zahra that on no account could she let her marry the son of her maid-servant…’
‘But…’ Hind was beginning to interrupt till she saw the frown on her father’s face and stopped.
‘Yes Hind, I know, but there is never any logic in such matters. Asma did not want Zahra to repeat her own experience. It is a contradiction of course, but not uncommon. Your mother will remember that when Great-Uncle Rahim-Allah married a courtesan, she turned out to be the most puritanical of the great-aunts. Fiercely loyal to her husband and unbending in her attitude to adultery and other such vices. It is, I suppose, one of the consequences of what the master Ibn Khaldun might have referred to as the dilemma of shifting social locations. Once you have climbed all the way up the ladder from the lowest rung, you can never stop looking down upon those less fortunate than yourself.
‘To return to the story. One night when Zahra and Ibn Zaydun were trysting in their favourite spot, unknown to them they had been followed by Zahra’s rival. She watched everything. Everything. The next morning she reported the whole affair directly to Ibn Farid. He did not doubt her word for a moment. He must have felt that his instinctive dislike of the washerwoman’s son had been vindicated. He was heard to roar at the top of his voice: “Fifty gold dinars to the person who will bring that boy to me.”
‘I think if Ibn Zaydun had been caught that day, my grandfather would have had him castrated on the spot. Fortunately for our lover, he had been dispatched early in the morning on an errand to Gharnata. On hearing of what lay in store for him if he returned, his mother, warned by Grandmother Asma, sent a friend from the village to warn the boy. Ibn Zaydun simply disappeared. He was never seen in the village again while Ibn Farid was alive…’
‘Father,’ Kulthum enquired in her soft, obedient voice, ‘who was Great-Aunt’s rival?’
‘Why, child, I thought all of you might have guessed after the events of this evening. It was Ama!’
‘Ama!’ all three of them shouted.
‘Shhhh!’ said Zubayda. ‘She’ll come running if she hears you shouting in that fashion.’
They looked at each other in silence. It was Hind who spoke first.
‘And Great-Aunt Zahra?’
‘Your great-grandfather sent for her in the presence of both my grandmothers. They pleaded with him to forgive her. Zahra herself was defiant. Perhaps we can ask her now, but my mother told me that Zahra is supposed to have said: “Why should you be the only one to marry someone of your choice? I love Asma both as the wife of your choice and as my friend. Why could you not accept Ibn Zaydun?” It was then that he struck her and she cursed him and cursed him till Ibn Farid, feeling ashamed of himself, but not to the extent of begging her forgiveness, turned his back on her and walked out of the room. The very next day she left this house. Never came back till last night. What she did in Qurtuba, I do not know. You will have to ask someone else.’
While the children of Umar bin Abdallah were reflecting on their great-aunt’s tragic story, the subject of all their thoughts was preparing to dismiss Ama and retire for the night. Zahra had carefully avoided all mention of Ibn Zaydun. She did not want any apologies. They would have been half-a-century too late in any case. It was all over and she genuinely did not bear any grudges. The two old women had spent the evening discussing the state of the Banu Hudayl. Zahra had wanted to know everything, and in Ama she had found the only person who could tell everything.