The Automobile Club of Egypt

SALEHA

Why did I love Mitsy so much?

Because she was nice and well mannered, and because Kamel loved her, and I loved anyone Kamel loved. Perhaps I liked the experience itself — that I should be friends with an English girl who spoke Arabic and wanted to learn all about Egyptian life. I never felt the passage of time when I was with Mitsy. We would chat and discuss things and laugh a lot. She insisted on helping my mother and me with the housework, asking about everything I was doing. She learned things I never imagined would interest any English girl. The moments we enjoyed the most were when we were having a cup of coffee together. We would sit on the balcony around the large brass table on which we would place the burner, the cups and the cold water perfumed with a few drops of rosewater.

One Wednesday after early evening prayers, as we were getting ready to drink our coffee, Mitsy took the packet of coffee beans from me and said, “I’ll make the coffee today.”

She was wearing a blue dress and had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, revealing her dainty ears. A few minutes later, Mitsy looked at me as I was sipping the coffee, and laughed, “Sometimes I imagine that we’re two women living in an Ottoman sultan’s court.”

“Why at a court?”

With a wave of her hand, Mitsy dismissed my comment and said, “Oh…the sultan’s wives generally didn’t do anything. They spent their days in the bathhouse and making themselves beautiful. We would look after our bodies and get ourselves ready, because the sultan might summon us to his bed at any moment.”

“Would you like to play a role like that onstage?”

“Of course I would! But even if the chance never came, I could always enjoy fantasizing about it! An actor must be able to imagine lives outside his own.”

Mitsy was silent for a moment and then asked me, “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

It was so typical of her to change the subject so suddenly.

“I’ve read about it,” I said.

“Could it not be possible that our souls have lived previously in different places and circumstances and that we died and have been reincarnated into this life?”

“It’s possible. But I’m a Muslim, and in my religion God tells us that our spirit is in His hands and that he has sole control of it.”

“Well, I often feel that in a previous life, I was an Egyptian woman. Egypt feels so familiar to me that this can’t be the first time I have been here. Even when I speak with you, Saleha, I feel that I have seen and heard you before.”

Mitsy fell silent for a moment and then added, “I just hope you don’t think I’m mad!”

We both laughed, and then she changed the subject again. “How are you getting on with your studies?”

“I’m trying as hard as I can, but it hasn’t been easy.”

“I’ll remind you of that after you pass the exams with flying colors.”

Then we suddenly heard two light taps on the apartment door: Kamel’s signature knock.

“Come in!” I said.

I had never seen Kamel happier than he was at that moment. He shook hands with Mitsy, kissed me on my cheeks and then said nothing for a while, as if he was trying to control himself. He put his hand in the pocket of his waistcoat and took out a folded piece of paper.

“Congratulations, Saleha!” he said. “Here’s your divorce.”

I could not take it in immediately, but then I jumped up and threw my arms around him and kept repeating, “Thank God! Thank God!” I started crying, and a few minutes later my mother came in to congratulate me. It occurred to me that the last thing I had expected when I married Abd el-Barr was that my marriage would turn into such a nightmare that we should all be celebrating the divorce.

My mother then asked Mitsy if she had ever eaten fatta.

“I’ve heard of it,” Mitsy answered.

“Well, I’m going to make fatta with beef,” my mother said.

“Mother!” Kamel laughed. “I have to warn you. Mitsy is English, and her digestion might not be up to Egyptian fatta!”

Mitsy dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand as my mother put her arm around her saying, “Nonsense. I’m sure that she’ll love it.”

We had a wonderful evening. I laughed like I had never laughed in my life. Mitsy looked lovely in a flannel galabiyya with her hair pulled back as she stood in the kitchen helping my mother with the fatta. We ate and then drank cup after cup of tea, celebrating until the dawn call to prayer. Kamel went off to his bedroom, and Mitsy went to mine. I did my ablutions, and my mother and I said some extra prayers of thanks before our morning prayers. I slept more deeply than I had done for a long time.

The following day, I woke up after the noon call to prayer and found another surprise. Mitsy was in the sitting room, her suitcase in front of her and Kamel sitting next to her. My mother told me that Mitsy was leaving our home because she had found an apartment. I was shocked. Without thinking, I said, “Even if Mitsy has found an apartment, she should stay on with us.”

My mother kissed Mitsy on her forehead and said, “We’d like you to stay with us.”

Mitsy looked at us with gratitude in her eyes and said, “I don’t want to leave you either, but I have to. I’ll visit you all the time. My apartment in Garden City isn’t far away. Saleha, you can bring your books and study in peace and quiet.”

I embraced her again, and Kamel said, “We have to be off now. I asked for an hour off work so that I can take Mitsy to her apartment.”

It was an emotional farewell. Fighting back tears, Mitsy said, “Thank you. I will never forget what you have done for me.”

Kamel picked up the suitcase as Mitsy dragged him by the other hand.

“Why all the drama?” he asked playfully. “Mitsy’s new place is only ten minutes away by taxi. You can go and see her every day.”

With my divorce, a new stage of my life started. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I decided to apply for university and realize my father’s wishes. I studied my heart out, and my mother devoted herself to looking after me. She excused me from doing any housework. Kamel signed me up with two private tutors, and though I felt bad about his paying so much, he reassured me, saying, “Thank God our financial situation has improved. The most important thing is that you pass your exams.”

I felt like a trooper plunging into battle. I would wake up at dawn, and after a hot shower and breakfast, I would sit down at my desk and study until midnight. I only took breaks to say my prayers, and my mother brought me endless cups of tea and sandwiches. I went to visit Mitsy in her apartment at least once a week, and she visited us a lot too. In spite of being exhausted from studying, I felt confident and optimistic. I no longer thought of what I had been through at the hands of Abd el-Barr.

Aisha told me, “Don’t look back! Forget that snake, Abd el-Barr. I’ll get you married off to the best man in Cairo. You’ll see!”

“The most important thing,” I replied, “is for me to pass my exams and get into university.”

Aisha let out a resounding laugh and said, “Well, education may be really important, but in our society no woman can do without a husband.”

My brother Said no longer visited us, excusing himself by saying that he had to stay close to his pregnant wife, but we knew that he was punishing us for my divorce. We learned from Aisha that Abd el-Barr had decided not to go into business with him. I tried to console my mother by telling her that Said could not do without his mother and siblings and that eventually he would come around. Unfortunately, deep down, I rather enjoyed his absence. We had a carefree existence for a while, although I don’t even remember how long it lasted — three or four weeks maybe.

Then that night arrived. It was after three in morning, and I was in my bedroom engrossed in my mathematics problems when I heard a sound in the hallway. I thought it was Kamel coming home. The noise got gradually louder, and I heard footsteps. I realized that something strange was happening. I got up and listened through my closed door. The hubbub was getting closer, and then suddenly I heard my mother shout, “No one is to go near my daughter!”