Ancestor Stones - Aminatta Forna [120]
There was the petrol station where the bicycle taxis waited. I hadn’t travelled that way in many months now. It wasn’t such a comfortable way to travel but it was better than being on foot. Anything else was unaffordable. The price of petrol was always going up. Always going up. Nothing ever became cheaper. None of the boys leaning on their bicycles looked up as I passed. Well, I wasn’t young any more.
In front of the covered market I slowed my pace a little, just to see what was on offer. I had a few things to buy, but that would have to wait until the end of the day, when the traders were willing to drop their prices just to be rid of the stuff. Other times I went to market in the early morning. The stall holders liked to treat their first customer well. Not for the customer’s benefit, I should add, only because they thought it boded well for the rest of the day.
Ahead of me two women entered Asana’s fabric store. I wondered whether she was in town or travelling. Who would choose such a life? No husband, no time to talk even. Always busy, working herself into the ground. Well, I suppose she didn’t have any brothers. But really, she should have had more sons. I bought the cloth for my dress there the last time she was out of town. Seven yards of brocade. The girl in the shop — who did she think she was? — looked as though she was about to refuse me credit until I reminded her I was family. I passed by on the other side of the road, deciding against going in. Wait until Lansana was home and then we’d go in together.
I imagined us walking down the street. Him so broad shouldered and handsome. Many months had passed since he’d been given leave. In all that time I had not heard from him, I could only imagine what duties he was undertaking. Who knew where in the country he might be, some place without a post office. And you know, sometimes they didn’t allow them to write, especially when the mission was important or secret.
Rain was threatening, a dark cloud rose up behind the mosque, though the sun still shone. The light shimmered, catching the white robes of the men gathered at the front of the building after midday prayers. Women, dressed in all manner of colours, made their way from the back door. Some people were waiting to cross the road by the roundabout, others stood about in clutches exchanging greetings at the same time as they eyed one another up and down. I slipped into the crowd, mingling, nodding to this person and that person, enjoying the looks that came my way. And sure enough presently I saw somebody I did know: the woman who was once my mother-in-law, in a manner of speaking. Remember Khalil? The one who betrayed me? His mother.
Well, I’m telling you now — it couldn’t have been better. I turned away and strolled on a short distance. When I felt her close behind me, I swung around like I had suddenly remembered something.
‘Aunty!’ I said, as though she was the last person on earth I expected to see there.
‘Hawa,’ she nodded. She would have liked to move on, but I was blocking her path.
‘I hope you are well?’ Or some such irrelevance.
‘As you see me, by God’s grace.’
‘And the family?’ I persisted, though I noticed she made no enquiry as to my own health.
‘They are all well.’ She glanced over my shoulder, wanting to get away. But I was not finished yet. The thing about niceties is that there is no end to them. I asked after every member of the family by name. She took no care to elaborate on her replies. Then I mentioned Khalil’s name. She looked at me directly, then. Suspicious eyes flickered over my face for a moment, until she caught sight of the earrings. I smiled and put my hand up to touch them.
‘A gift from my son,’ I told her.
‘Very