I Think of You: Stories by Ahdaf Soueif

Author:Ahdaf Soueif [Soueif, Ahdaf]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Short Stories (Single Author)
ISBN: 9780307486158
Google: lb0e86JWn50C
Amazon: B000S1LBSG
Publisher: Anchor
Published: 2009-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chez Milou

Milou sits behind the cash desk. There is a gray-checked rug on her knees and on the rug sits Athène. Athène is a comfortable dachshund the color of expensive leather. She is sleek and plump, but there’s no doubt that she is growing old; you can see it in her eyes. Occasionally she ventures onto the floor and pauses briefly amidst the feet of the waiters. But then Milou gets anxious and leans over to look and call for her, and Athène hurries back. She has to be helped onto her mistress’s knee by one of the waiters—usually old Sayim the Nubian. All day long Milou cuddles Athène. Milou’s manicured fingers have thickened, but she still wears her grandmother’s heavy Russian rings. Her hands are mottled with liver spots, and they are uncertain on the cash register. They are heavy on Athène’s back, stroking her smooth length, fondling the drooping ears, or scratching the worried brow as the old dog whimpers quietly.

Milou might have married Philippe, but that was long ago. Now, all day Milou watches the frayed red velvet curtains screening the entrance to the restaurant. She knows all her customers, though she never smiles and only nods sternly to the oldest and the most regular. The young tourists who stray in and park their backpacks by the door puzzle over this large, grim woman with the red hennaed hair who never leaves her seat. Yet despite the slight frown that Milou’s features settle into when her thoughts wander, her customers find her a benign presence—and they come back.

To her left and slightly to her rear, so that she cannot see him unless she turns around, old Monsieur Vasilakis sits in a corner of the restaurant. He sits at a round table with a small black-and-white television flickering soundlessly on a cutlery cabinet in front of him and a carafe of red wine always at his elbow. Monsieur Vasilakis is nearing ninety, and almost all the friends who used to occupy the other chair at his table, share his wine, and stare companionably at his flickering TV have passed away. Milou usually knows exactly what he is doing even though her gaze is fixed in front of her. Today, it is Monsieur Vasilakis who is aware of his daughter’s corner; the cash desk has been extended by a table with a white cloth, and a chair has been placed beside Milou’s.

Milou observes the red curtains with particular purpose; she is expecting a friend. Well, Farah is too young to be quite a friend; her mother, Latifa, is really Milou’s friend, and since their friendship dates from Latifa’s wedding night, Milou has known Farah since she was born. Latifa’s wedding night. Milou does not actually shudder or indeed feel anything much at all. But she remembers. She remembers the shame and the misery which for years that phrase had evoked in her; the shiver moving up her back into her shoulders and arms until her fingers tingled with it, the cold weight in her stomach that she had had to rub and press into something she could bear.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.