Norma looked down at her. ‘You poor thing,’ she said. She dressed Salma and then she pushed the bed. She pushed it through the clinic and down the street, she pushed it across a whole city. Salma dozed and cried, she rambled about how she had come to him with desire and he had greeted her with a surgical scalpel. When she remembered who was helping her now, she said, thank you, thank you.

‘You help me too,’ said Norma. ‘You’ve always been kind.’

Salma couldn’t remember what she had ever done for Norma. Nothing special, nothing to be proud of. A free massage once in a while, taking an interest in her aches and pains. Nothing more. Perhaps that’s what counted at the end, the actions one considered small and casual, not the big ones carried on the peg of self-righteousness.

Back through the university campus, back through the corridor of Amir’s flat, back inside the museum, past the Ancient Egyptian coffin and the stuffed animals. Out again to the fresh air. When they reached the edge of the forest, Norma lifted Salma and laid her gently on the ground. ‘That’s as far as I can go,’ she said. ‘You have to find your own way now.’

It took Salma time to figure out how she could move. She could not crawl. There was only one way. Using her elbows, she could drag her body after her. Slowly, slowly. She made her way into the forest, trying to get back to where she had come from, back to the blue trail. She started to call out, ‘Iman, Moni.’

They heard her and came to where she was. The three of them recognisable to each other: Iman, Salma, Moni. They exclaimed and swapped stories – at least Moni and Salma did, Iman grunted and yowled. They wept with sorrow, not sure whether it was for themselves or each other, for it appalled Iman to see her bold friend flat as a doormat, it pained Salma to see Moni, once tall and regal, reduced to a Swiss ball. And Moni could not get over the shock of what Iman had become – without dignity, inhuman and unable to speak.

‘He took my strength instead of my virtue,’ Salma said. ‘That’s what happened. He dug inside and took my muscles.’

For a long time, the three of them purred and comforted each other. They murmured laments and whined in rhythm. They were freed from pride and convention, freed from the need to put on a brave face or pretend that things were not as bad as they appeared to be. They were friends again and eventually, after they cried themselves to sleep and woke up with the sun, they asked, what now? Iman and Moni looked at Salma. She was their leader and always would be. No matter what, they would always look to her for guidance. They trusted her. ‘What now, Salma?’

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen