The Day the Leader Was Killed Read Online Free Page B

accidental? Anyway, it ruined the evening for me. Neither did things get any better when Gulstan said:
    “One’s real age is measured in terms of love.”
    I left the house, furious at the man and roused by his sister.

Randa Sulayman Mubarak
    A nwar Allam signed the letters I had translated and I was on the point of leaving when he leaned back on his swivel chair and said:
    “Miss Randa, I have a story that will interest you.”
    I wonder what it is?
    “She was a young doctor engaged for many years to a colleague of hers, also a doctor. They despaired of ever getting married and broke off their engagement. She then married a rich merchant from Wikalat al-Balah and consented to stay at home as a simple housewife,” he said.
    “Why do you think this story would interest me?” I asked him calmly, although I was both astounded and indignant.
    “What do you think of this woman doctor?” he asked me, ignoring my question.
    “I can’t judge someone about whose circumstances I know nothing,” I answered somewhat dryly.
    “I consider her smart: better a housewife than a doctor who’s a spinster!”
    I took leave of him with a look of utter indignation. He eyed me covetously in a way that simply cannot be ignored. In fact, he’s a burden on us both—Elwan and me.
    On Friday morning, we went to the Pyramids Resthouse. That was after his visit to Anwar Allam. It’s truly cold but the sun is out, and here we are looking from up above onto the city, which looks great, calm, and vast, as though free from worries and dirt.
    “How was your visit to the Right Honorable Director?” I asked as we were having our tea.
    He told me all about it in some detail and succeeded in ruining that lovely morning for me.
    “It doesn’t seem to have been much of a business call,” I said.
    “But we did work for three consecutive hours.”
    “You know what I mean,” I said defiantly.
    “He’s a nerve-wracking person,” he said angrily.
    “And his sister?”
    “Poised and reasonable. I respect her as one would one’s own mother.”
    “And did she treat you as a son?” I asked, laughing coldly.
    “Randa, am I being accused and tried?” he inquired on a note of protest.
    “God forbid!” I retorted quickly.
    I then told him what had gone on between us in hisoffice. He frowned and cried out, “I shall ask him not to interfere in what doesn’t concern him.”
    “It would be wiser to simply ignore him so that the relationship between you both does not deteriorate,” I pleaded.
    “The problem is that my position vis-à-vis you is weak, and I don’t know how to defend it,” he said resentfully.
    “You’re not being accused and I’m not asking you to put up a defense,” I said gently.
    “I’m responsible for this and I feel unhappy.”
    “There’s nothing we can do about it.”
    “But he’s a miserable wretch, and is clearly up to something.”
    “Disregard him and his cheap, vile ways.”
    We grew silent for a while, seeking refuge in nature until I could hear his plaintive voice saying:
    “It’s as though we’ve forgotten all about love.”
    “We don’t need more of it,” I said, concealing my own unhappiness.
    “I love you,” he said, casting a look of desire in my direction.
    “I love you,” I said, touched to the core.
    “I wonder what grand adventure is in store for us now that we’re in need of money?” he remarked, perplexed.
    “Maybe you’ll discover you have the talent of a young premier on the screen?” I said, smiling.
    “How about you? Have you tested your voice, even if only under the shower?” We laughed in spite of our worries.
    “The problem isn’t just one of salary; it’s a problem of both key money and furniture,” he said.
    “Al-Mahruqi simply got married, but he’s living in a camp with his sect,” he continued after a period of silence.
    I imagined the camp and his life as though it were fiction, not fact. In spite of this, my heart went out to him. A simple tent but