The Beginning and the End

SIXTY-FOUR

He wished he could, somehow, be alone with his girl. But how? Her parents had received him in the sitting room. Joining in the customary lengthy conversation, he waited impatiently for her to come. Shyly she entered the room, wearing a long pink dressing gown that revealed only her limbs. She greeted Hassanein formally, her father looking at her with laughing and admiring eyes. She sat beside her mother. The conversation dragged on. But her presence absorbed all of his attention, and he found it difficult to follow their chatter, and even more so to take part in it. Overcome with boredom, he looked at her furtively, forming a mental picture of her plump, naked body. The blood boiled in his veins, and he felt resentment against the group for restricting his liberty. He noted the confidence and serenity in Bahia’s eyes, her statuesque appearance, her reassurance as she sat at home under the comforting protection of her parents, listening to their conversation, safe in this refuge from Hassanein’s caprices. Although sometimes her attitude angered him, he could not ignore the sense of confidence and trust which she managed to inspire in him, lending an unshakable sense of security and constancy to his profound feeling for her. The conversation went on. Lacking sufficient courage to take part in it, she merely responded with a nod of the head or a smile on her lips, and his annoyance reached a climax. As he sought for a way out of the dilemma, a bold idea occurred to him, and with his characteristic audacity he put it into action at once. He said to Farid Effendi, “Would you allow me to take Bahia to the cinema?”

Bahia’s face flushed and she lowered her eyes, while her parents exchanged glances.

“I think in these modern times, this should be permissible for an engaged couple,” Farid Effendi replied. But his wife disagreed. “I’m afraid this might not appeal to Madam, your mother,” she said to Hassanein.

To prevent his stratagem from being wrecked, Hassanein lied unscrupulously. “I’ve already asked her permission,” he said, “and she agreed with pleasure.”

A smile appeared on the woman’s face. She looked at her husband. “I’ve no objection,” she said, “since her father agrees.”

Farid Effendi asked his daughter to get ready to accompany the young man to the cinema, and shyly she stumbled out of the room. A few minutes later, the couple left. Approaching his flat, Bahia noticed Hassanein’s cautious steps, as if he feared they might attract his family’s attention. She was worried.

“You lied to my mother,” she whispered, “pretending that you had your mother’s permission. And Nefisa will get angry because you didn’t invite her to go with us to the cinema!”

He motioned to her to keep silent, took her hand, and led her across the courtyard to the alley. They walked side by side, Bahia’s parents watching them from the balcony. Her red overcoat brought her pure, white complexion into relief; she was as pretty as a kitten. But in her lingering worry she said accusingly, “Sooner or later your family will know about our outing.”

His pleasurable sense of triumph dismissed all concern. “We’ve committed no sin,” he said with a laugh, “nor will the world fall apart!”

“Wouldn’t it have been better to invite Nefisa to come with us?”

“But I want to be alone with you!”

She feared Nefisa more than anyone else. “You don’t care about anything at all,” she said with concern, “and it’s a pity.”

He reacted with frank, sometimes even offensive words, attacking her reserve and frigidity. “I wish I had committed a sin with you,” he said, “to deserve your accusations!”

Her face turned red, and she frowned with resentment. She kept silent now as they mingled with the people standing on the platform of the tram stop. With inward satisfaction he gazed upon her angry face. “I mean a minor sin,” he whispered with a smile.

She turned her face away until the tram arrived. They climbed into a first-class compartment. Finding it occupied by a foreign lady, Hassanein felt relieved. Sitting close to Bahia, he said teasingly, “Did you miss me much while I was away?”

“I never thought of you,” she said, as if in anger.

Pretending to be sad, he shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, “hurt me more than my feeling that you were anxious to see me.”

“To be frank with you, your new college has made you more unpleasant than before,” she said coldly, hiding a smile.

Involuntarily he recalled Nefisa’s indictment of Bahia as not being sweet-tempered, and he looked closely at the girl. He found her superbly beautiful, yet his sister had described her as not having a sweet temper. He was aware that being head over heels in love with her made him adore even this defect in his beloved’s character. He decided to stop teasing her.

“While I was away,” he said warmly, “I never forgot you for a single moment. Eventually I realized that while it’s torture to be near one you love and she won’t give in, it’s heaven on earth not to be tragically separated from her.”

Lowering her eyes, she remained speechless. Yet, scenting the fragrance of mute passion in her absentminded surrender, he was profoundly relieved. He spoke ramblingly until the tram reached Station Square; they got off the tramcar and walked toward Imad al-Din Street. He asked her to take his arm, and she did so hesitantly.

Walking for the first time beside a person other than her mother, she was overwhelmed with shyness and confusion. Feeling his elbow touch her breast, deliberately or accidentally, she withdrew her arm from his.

“What have I done?” he protested.

“I like it better this way.”

He was indignant at missing this opportunity. “It’ll take a miracle to change you into a real wife,” he said. “I mean a wife who embraces and hugs her husband and…”

Soon afterward, they were seated side by side in the cinema. His feeling of conceit and arrogance returned. This time he had two assets, his uniform and his beloved. When some of his classmates, passing by, cast appraising glances at his girl, this made his heart swell with further pleasure. Leaning toward her, he whispered, “Have you noticed that your beauty attracts attention?”

Noting a shy smile on her lips, he continued to be merry. “My heart tells me,” he whispered again, “that tonight I’ll get the kiss I’ve long desired.”

She threw him a threatening glance, then looked straight ahead. In the dark he tried to touch her with his elbow or foot, but she did not encourage him. Finally, under his persistent pressure, she allowed him to take the palm of her hand into his, both resting on the chair arm separating their two seats. Time passed in total happiness.