The Beginning and the End

SEVENTY-SEVEN

The search for a new flat consumed considerable time, but finally they were able to find a reasonably priced one in a charming location on Al Zagazig Street in Heliopolis. Having agreed to bring their furniture surreptitiously during the evening, so as to conceal it from curious eyes, they moved in on the appointed day. Hassanein remained in the new flat with the heaps of furniture, while Hussein returned to the alley to accompany his mother and sister to their new home. With hope and no regrets, they bade farewell in the dark to their old quarter. Reaching the new quarter, they stood in surprised admiration for its enormous size, its quiet, the fine, dry air, and the sight of blocks of flats and villas on both sides. Despite sad, lingering memories, Nefisa, in this new atmosphere, could not help saying with a smile, “We’re now part of the upper class.”

The flat was located in a two-story house surrounded by a small garden. They climbed the seven steps to find Hassanein waiting for them, the kerosene lamp already aglow. Assisted by the two brothers, Samira and Nefisa arranged their few pieces of furniture in the three small rooms in less than an hour, including a brief break. The shabby chairs, sofas, and beds seemed out of place in these elegant rooms. It was to be expected that Hassanein would comment resentfully about this discrepancy, but the sight of the sitting room afforded him a measure of comfort. Entering from outside, a visitor could be shown into it without having to cross the interior hall. They discussed their new surroundings at length, the buildings, the streets, and what they imagined their neighbors must be like. Hassanein discussed the necessities of their new life as he saw them.

“We must have two things at once: electricity and a girl servant. Without these, we’ve no business staying here for even a day.”

Since it was understood that it was he who would supply these requirements, no one objected. But as he considered his surroundings from a new angle, Hassanein wondered whether his mother and sister would fit in with them. Mentally, he could hear women’s insulting comments after visiting their flat, and his boiling blood rushed to his brain.

“We mustn’t,” he warned his mother, “mix with anyone in this new quarter. We shall neither visit nor be visited.”

“I have no desire to mix with anyone,” his mother said indifferently.

“We’ve got no friends here that we’d be sorry to avoid,” Nefisa said.

“It’ll be better, too, if you don’t see your old female friends,” the young man said with concern.

The girl was disturbed. It was true that she wanted to sever her contacts with the outside world, but impelled by a repulsive urge to seek outside contacts, inevitably she failed to obey her wishes. “Am I doomed,” she asked fearfully, “to be a prisoner for the rest of my life?”

Taking his sister’s side, Hussein intervened. “Brother,” he urged, “don’t ask too much!”

“I don’t want anyone from our quarter to visit us,” Hassanein answered sharply.

“Except for Farid Effendi and his family, no one will take the trouble.”

Repressing his discontent, Hassanein kept silent. He remembered yesterday’s farewell visit from Farid Effendi’s family and how they got the new address. If only right now, he thought, at this moment in the twinkling of an eye, the entire past would cease to exist! Had the girl confided his recent lack of interest to her parents? he wondered. Could he arrange to slip easily out of this relationship or might he encounter unforeseen troubles? He would fight it out at whatever cost. His liberty and prestige were more important than the problems which faced him. If he could manage to recover from the past, a bright life full of peace and security would be assured.

Hassanein took his brother aside to straighten out their budget, with its extra expenses for transport, the purchase of the furniture for their sitting room, and the further anticipated expenses of the servant and electricity. Nefisa arose to look out of the windows at her new surroundings. In her loneliness, Samira summoned up memories of the recent events, ending with their arrival in this new quarter. Her thoughts revolved around only one subject: her son Hassan. Where was he now, she wondered, and what was he doing? Whenever she was alone, her memory of him always returned, stirring long-buried grief and remorse.

Thus they spent their first night in Heliopolis.