Saba remembered the woman who arrived from the city the same night as Eyob and Tedros.

Nasnet is generous, full of joy and has a good heart, the girl said in a whisper, thanking Saba for talking to her.

It was a scorching afternoon and the place was almost deserted when Saba arrived at Nasnet’s hut. She could do with some laughter, Saba decided as she knocked. The door creaked open. A woman of average height with long curly hair and a silky nightgown shuffled out.

Yes? asked Nasnet, rubbing her face, yawning.

You look tired, Saba said. Maybe I should leave you alone and come back later.

Come back, why? Nasnet asked.

I know your help left and I thought you might need a new one.

Thank you but no. I need to sleep now. Nasnet shut the door.

Saba knocked again. Nasnet opened, and this time hissed: Don’t you know what they are all saying about me? I am a prostitute. I am diseased.

Do you need a helper or not?

Nasnet stared at Saba. Did you see what happened to that poor girl? Did you see how badly she was beaten because she worked for me?

I can start tomorrow morning, said Saba.

Nasnet looked at Saba but said nothing.

Can I start tomorrow? Please.

When Saba arrived at Nasnet’s the next morning, her new employer emerged with her hair in pink rollers and a mountain of laundry in her arms. It was a busy night, Nasnet said, winking. Good business for me means good pay for you.

I need to advertise your services then, Saba said.

Nasnet laughed. Come, sweetheart, let’s go to my kitchen, she said, kicking the door of an adjacent hut open with her foot.

Saba wondered how Nasnet had managed to get two huts for herself. She decided not to ask. Dropping the pile of clothes next to a bucket placed between an open furnace and a box with pots and knives, Nasnet turned and asked Saba to sit. This is a nice leather stool, she said. I’ll leave you to it now. But I’ll come and join you when I finish with my hair. We can talk then.

Saba nodded, smiling. But when she held the bedcovers in her hands, about to dip them into the bucket, she froze. She pushed her stool back and leaned against the wall. As she shut her eyes to bring herself back to the task at hand, she saw Nasnet rolling on the sheet, arms reaching over her. Nasnet was trapped, unable to breathe under the weight of a man. Different men. Yet, Saba couldn’t reconcile the Nasnet she had seen and talked to with the image in her mind.

Saba opened her eyes and plunged her hands into the bucket. She expected the bedcovers to be soaked in men’s sweat, their release. But there was no trace of their presence in the clothes she was washing, only a tinge of floral-scented perfume. There was no sign either of Nasnet’s nervousness on the sheets or of perspiration on her clothes. Saba wondered if only true love would bring out a lasting aroma.