It was the first time he had been into Noura’s house openly without fear, and the first time he had gone beyond the garden into the house itself. Everything whispered of her presence: the palm tree in the far corner had observed their first meeting; the grass here and there in the garden sighed, Noura was here … she sat here … she stood here … He was now in her house, united with her in a single place, where her breath moved back and forth. Those innocent days began to tug at his heart again.
There were not many people there for supper: himself and his father, Abu Muhammad and his eldest son Muhammad, two people he did not know and Noura’s fiancé, whom Hisham scrutinised with jealousy gnawing at his heart. He was a handsome young man of about twenty-four, tall and slenderly built, almost swarthy, with sharp features, a wispy moustache and a small, square, dark beard covering the edges of his chin. Hisham felt an enormous loathing for him, eespecially when the young man proved to be extremely polite and courteous.
They sat round a large bowl of rice, on top of which rested a whole lamb, still with its head, and with the liver, stomach and innards arranged around it. The rice was decorated with raisins and pine nuts, with a few boiled eggs planted in it. Several small plates were arranged around the large dish, containing sopped bread and meat, or crushed wheat and salad, and there were two large dishes of fruit at the edges of the table. One of Abu Muhammad’s sons stood at the head of the gathering holding fresh yoghurt, waiting for a signal from anyone sitting down. During the meal, Abu Muhammad teased his future son-in-law, saying, ‘Have some qursan, Fahd. Your future wife made it. Perhaps once you’ve tasted it you’ll see sense and cancel the wedding!’ Everyone laughed, then someone said, ‘Weddings and marriage are all trouble! God be praised, women are all trouble, a free man is the happiest!’
‘The problem is that one can’t live with them, and one can’t live without them! But God will do what is best!’ joined in another. The quips and laughter continued as they tore into the lamb with their bare hands, kneading the meat with the rice then popping it into their mouths. Hisham ate nothing but sopped bread – and some pieces of meat Abu Muhammad put before him. To him it was the tastiest sopped bread dish he had tasted in his life, because Noura’s hands had touched it.
Hisham’s father was the first to finish eating, but he didn’t get up. He stayed where he sat, licking the remains of food from his hand, and occupied himself peeling an orange until he was sure that everyone had finished. Then he got up, saying, ‘God bless you, Abu Muhammad, God grant you blessings!’ Then everyone rose as one, repeating the same sentence. Cups of bitter coffee with saffron were passed round, then incense, after which everyone began to leave, again offering the blessing to Abu Muhammad that they had given when they’d finished eating. One of the guests tried to invite them all to supper in his turn, but they refused and he didn’t insist, so everything finished with Abu Muhammad’s supper. When he lay down on his bed that night, Hisham felt tremendously happy and excited, because he knew that Noura knew he was in town, and could devise a plan to meet him if she still loved him. It was up to her now; he had done what he could. He closed his eyes contentedly, waiting for whatever the next day might bring.