Umm Hamida let out a raucous, throaty laugh, increasing in confidence that the deal she was about to make would be lucrative indeed. She went on drily: "You are quite right, Mrs. Afify. The truth is that experience has shown me that the happiest marriages are those in which the wife is older than the husband. A man of thirty or just a little older would suit you well."
Her visitor asked anxiously, "Would one agree?"
"Certainly one would agree. You are good-looking and wealthy."
"May you be safe from all evil!"
Her pockmarked face having taken on a serious and conscientious look, Umm Hamida then said, "I will tell him you are a lady of middle age, with no children, no mother-in-law, well mannered and wholesome, and have two shops in Hamzawy and a two-story house in Midaq Alley."
The lady smiled and said, to correct what she considered an error, "No, the house has three stories."
Umm Hamida, however, could not agree to this and said, "Only two, because you are not going to take any rent for the third floor, where I am, for as long as I am alive!"
Mrs. Afify agreed happily. "All right, I give my word, Umm Hamida."
"Your word is taken then. May our Lord work things out for the best!"
Her visitor shook her head as though amazed and said, "What an astonishing thing! I just came to visit you and look where our talk has got us. How has it happened that I am leaving you as good as married?"
Umm Hamida joined in her laughter as though she too was surprised, although she said under her breath, "Shame on you, woman. Do you think your cunning has fooled me?" Out loud she commented, "The will of our Lord, don't you think? Is not everything in His hands?"
And so Mrs. Saniya Afify returned to her own flat well pleased, although she thought to herself, "Rent of the flat for the rest of her life! What a greedy woman she is!"
3
As soon as Mrs. Afify left the room, Hamida came in combing her black hair, which gave off a strong smell of kerosene. Her mother gazed at her dark and shining hair, the ends of which nearly reached to the girl's knees, and said sadly, "What a pity! Imagine letting lice live in that lovely hair!"
The girl's black eyes, framed with mascara, flashed angrily and took on a determined and intent look. "What lice? I swear by the Prophet that my comb found only two lice!"
"Have you forgotten that I combed your hair two weeks ago and squashed twenty lice for you?"
The girl answered indifferently, "Well, I hadn't washed my hair for two months…"
She sat down at her mother's side and continued combing her hair vigorously.
Hamida was in her twenties, of medium stature and with a slim figure. Her skin was bronze-colored and her face a little elongated, unmarked, and pretty. Her most remarkable features were her black, beautiful eyes, the pupils and whites of which contrasted in a most striking and attractive way. When, however, she set her delicate lips and narrowed her eyes, she could take on an appearance of strength and determination which was most unfeminine. Her temper had always, even in Midaq Alley itself, been something no one could ignore.
Even her mother, famous for her roughness, did her best to avoid crossing her. One day when they had quarreled her mother cried out to her, "God will never find you a husband; what man would want to embrace a burning firebrand like you?" On other occasions she had said that a real madness overcame her daughter when she got angry and she nicknamed her tempers the khamsin, after the vicious and unpredictable summer winds.
Despite all this, she was really very fond of Hamida, even though she was only her foster mother. The girl's real mother had been her partner in making and selling sweet and fattening potions. She was eventually compelled by her poverty to share Umm Hamida's flat in Midaq Alley and had died there, leaving her daughter still a baby. Umm Hamida had adopted her and placed her under the care of the wife of Kirsha, the cafe owner, who had suckled her along with her son Hussain Kirsha, who was therefore a sort of foster brother to the girl Hamida.
She went on combing her black hair, waiting for her mother to comment as usual on the visit and visitor. When the silence remained unbroken unusually long, she asked, "It was a long visit. What were you talking about?"
Her mother laughed sardonically and murmured, "Guess!"
The girl, now even more interested, asked, "She wants to raise the rent?"
"If she had done that, she would have left here carried by ambulance men! No, she wants to lower the rent!"
"Have you gone mad?" Hamida exclaimed.
"Yes, I have gone mad. But guess…"
The girl sighed and said, "You've tired me out!"
Umm Hamida twitched her eyebrows and announced, winking an eye, "Her ladyship wants to get married!"
The girl was overcome with astonishment and gasped, "Married?"
"That's right, and she wants a young husband. How sorry I am for an unlucky young woman like you who can't find anyone to ask for her hand!"
Hamida gazed at her derisively and commented, now braiding her hair, "Oh yes, I could find many, but the fact is that you are a rotten matchmaker who merely wants to hide her failure. What's wrong with me? Just as I said, you are a failure and you only go to prove the saying: 'It's always the carpenter's door that's falling apart.'"
Her foster mother smiled and said, "If Mrs. Saniya Afify can get married, then no woman at all should despair."
The girl stared at her furiously and said, "I am not the one who is chasing marriage, but marriage is chasing me. I will give it a good run, too!"
"Of course you will, a princess like yourself, a daughter of royalty."
The girl ignored her mother's sarcasm and went on in the same severe tone: "Is there anyone here in Midaq Alley who is worth considering?"
In fact, Umm Hamida had no fear that her daughter would be left on the shelf and she had no doubts about the girl's beauty. Nevertheless, she frequently felt resentful about her vanity and conceit and she now said bitingly, "Don't slander the alley like that. The people who live here are the best in the world!"
"You're the best in the world yourself, aren't you? They are all nonentities. Only one of them has a spark of life and you had to go and make him my foster brother!"
She was referring to Hussain Kirsha, with whom she had been suckled. This remark annoyed her mother and she objected angrily, "How can you say such a thing? I didn't make him your brother. No one can make you a brother or a sister. He is your brother because you both suckled the same woman just as God ordained."
A spirit of devilment seemed to take possession of the girl. She said jokingly, "Couldn't he have always sucked from one breast and me from the other?"
At this her mother punched her hard in the back and snorted, "May God punish you for saying that."
The girl replied by muttering, "Nothing Alley!"
"You deserve to marry some really important civil servant, I suppose?"
"Is a civil servant a god?" retorted Hamida defiantly.
Her mother sighed deeply and said, "If only you would stop being so conceited…"
The girl mimicked Umm Hamida's voice and replied, "If you would only be reasonable for once in your life."
"You eat and drink my food but you are never grateful. Do you remember all that fuss you made about a dress?"
Hamida asked in astonishment, "And is a dress something of no importance? What's the point of living if one can't have new clothes? Don't you think it would be better for a girl to have been buried alive rather than have no nice clothes to make herself look pretty?" Her voice filled with sadness as she went on: "If only you had seen the factory girls! You should just see those Jewish girls who go to work. They all go about in nice clothes. Well, what is the point of life then if we can't wear what we want?"