Samia Serageldin – The Cairo House (страница 14)

Years later, many years later, Tamer was to ask her: ‘Why did you marry Yussef? I always wondered about that.’ It would be years later, on a balcony overlooking the Nile, overlooking a by-pass bridge like a gigantic Ferris wheel spanning the city; a bridge that would not be built for another decade, and would be named after a war that was yet to take place: the Sixth of October Bridge. Years later Tamer would ask her that question, long after they had both crossed over to adulthood; when they had changed as unrecognizably as the transformed vista over the familiar old river; when they were trying to reach across the distance the years had stretched between them. He would ask her that question then, and for the first time, even to herself, she would have an answer.

But the girl walking her dog on the beach that day had no answer. Except perhaps that she was tired of waiting for life to begin.

5 The Wedding

The month before the wedding went by in a whirl. Gigi tried to concentrate on her final exams, but she was distracted by the sessions at the dressmaker’s and other preparations. She left the details to Mama, even the styles and colors of the embroidered satin negligées for her trousseau. But the choice of a stone for the solitaire engagement ring was to be entrusted to the Pasha, by family tradition. He was considered as much a connoisseur of jewelry as he was of period furniture.

Rather than pick a ring, Yussef’s parents had presented Gigi with an equivalent sum of money, discreetly concealed in a navy Sèvres bonbonnière. She called her uncle.

‘Of course, dear, I’ll call my jeweler right away. Do you have any preference as to cut? No? All right then, I’ll tell him what your budget is and he’ll pick a few stones for us to choose from. You can pick them up from the shop in town tomorrow morning and bring them right over. It’s the Sirgani jeweler downtown, but make sure you ask to speak to Sirgani Senior himself. Just tell him you’re my niece, he’ll be waiting for you.’

Gigi had driven downtown to the busy square and circled a couple of times, not looking so much for a parking space, which was near impossible at this time of day, but for a minadi, one of the self-appointed parking attendants who offered to watch your car when you triple-parked. In exchange for a small tip, they staved off the roving policemen so you did not get a ticket or your car towed. She finally caught the eye of a minadi and parked. She hopped out, telling him she would be in the jewelry shop and he was to fetch her if one of the cars she was blocking needed to pull out or if the tow truck showed up.

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