Marina walked Del to the bathroom. Del quickly doubled over, heaving. Yellow bile spilled out into the toilet bowl.

“I can’t do this Marina, I can’t do this.”

Marina took some toilet tissue, folded it into two and wiped Del’s mouth gently.

“Come on sayang, let’s make you beautiful.”

I looked like my mother.

My hair was wound tightly into a French twist, covered by a light veil, which fell softly onto my shoulders. The lace kebaya, the white silk sarong with hand-drawn flowers, the beaded satin shoes. Creamy pearl studs and a single pearl pendant. My eyes, smoky. Nude lips. I had never looked like this.

This was a woman who was going to get married. I was that woman.

I was seized with a sudden gust of trepidation. I started hyperventilating. I did not know what to do.

I sat down and looked at my hands. Twirls of red henna wound themselves intricately into a flowery pattern that covered both hands. It had taken hours and hours to draw on and hours more to dry.

Del, are you okay?

I nodded and looked out the window. The day was perfect. It had rained the night before and I had slept deeply, lulled into a cavernous universe. I had dreamt well and woke rested and fresh. The air was cool, lush, green. The leaves had been bathed and were glossy with hope.

Marina sat in the corner and lit a cigarette. Omar’s sister Lulu poured herself more white wine.

Lulu had arrived from London the night before. She was jetlagged, had barely slept and was already on the way to being completely drunk.

Eh, jangan minum sampai mabuk, okay. The party hasn’t started yet!

But Lulu didn’t care. Then there was a knock at the door and Omar’s mother walked in.

It’s time.

Lulu swigged the last of the wine, pressed some lipstick onto her already crimson lips and said,This is it! She giggled excitedly.

I started walking out the door, Marina and Lulu following me. Marina towering in heels and a sequined pink kebaya. Lulu in a white baju kurung.

I entered the living room and was gestured to a chair. Beautiful Persian carpets had been brought out and spread on the floor, where people I didn’t know sat, men on one side, women on the other. I felt as if all their eyes were on me. In the centre sat Omar and the Kadi, facing each other. The air was thick with expectation, incense and the sweet scent of white lilies. I sat down, my stomach in knots. Omar’s head was bowed, his eyes closed. He was wearing a cream-coloured baju melayu and a songkok. We had matching outfits. He looked so handsome. Our eyes met and he smiled. I felt better. He got up and walked towards me. All heads turned. I wanted to run back into the room. All those eyes staring.