Princess Play Read Online Free PDF Page B

argue this point with a bomoh , who might well take it as a personal affront. ‘Have you heard anything else?’
    He cleared his throat. ‘Well, Jamillah’s younger daughter, Zaiton? I heard some talk about a marriage with Murad’s son.’
    Maryam opened her eyes wide. ‘What?’
    â€˜Yes. Aziz wouldn’t hear of it. Jamillah, I’m not sure how she felt. Zaiton herself might have had another opinion.’
    â€˜Might?’
    â€˜You should ask her.’
    â€˜Oh, I will,’ Maryam assured him.

Chapter VI
    For an interview with Murad’s sister, informality was out. Gold was much on display: heavy earrings, a heavy necklace and several bangles glittered from behind Maryam’s best head scarf. While songket would be overkill, the quality of the batik she wore was of the highest. They were dressed for combat.
    Kampong Tikat was actually walking distance from Kampong Penambang, though it was a long walk along the main road. Maryam and Rubiah preferred it; it gave you time to think and plan what you wanted to say. Besides, Maryam liked admiring Kelantan’s countryside and the lush greenery now that the planting season had begun. Rice paddies which had been just dry, cracked wastelands were now watered, with dark soil and bright green rice sprouts. It always raised her spirits to see the dry season end and the rains begin. Before the floods started, of course.
    The large bend in the road signalled the boundary of Kampong Tikat, which also marked the gradual transformation from thick brown soil to sand: from villages devoted to farming to those of fishermen. Right there stood a long, large house whose porch looked out onto the main road. A young girl swept the front yard, keeping it a bare, flat expanse of dry earth, while two others hung laundry.
    â€˜Is this Musa’s house?’ Maryam asked pleasantly. The sweeper said yes, and smiled shyly.
    â€˜Are you his daughter?’ she asked the girl. She nodded again.
    â€˜Is your mother home?’
    She nodded once more and scampered up the steps, calling ‘ Mak ! Someone’s here to see you!’
    Moments later, a short, stocky woman bustled out from the house, looking like a general on campaign. She looked at Maryam and Rubiah with frank appraisal, taking in their bangles, necklaces and earrings in one glance and judging their value. Apparently they passed her test, for she ordered drinks and snacks to be delivered to her on the porch at once.
    â€˜Come up, come up,’ she commanded them. ‘Get out of the sun. It’s too hot.’ Maryam was confident she’d correctly assessed the right amount and quality of jewellery to wear, but validation was always appreciated.
    â€˜What can I do for you?’ the lady of the house asked. ‘By the way, I’m Noriah. And you?’ She waved at the coffee, inviting them to drink.
    â€˜I’m Rubiah, and this is Maryam,’ Rubiah began. ‘We’re here helping the police …’
    â€˜I’ve heard of you!’ Noriah exclaimed. ‘You investigated that murder, didn’t you? Well, you’re here to look into another death, right? It must be Jamillah,’ she guessed.
    â€˜I am,’ Maryam was relieved to get right to the point. ‘We’re here to begin our investigation.’
    â€˜Here?’ Noriah was surprised. ‘Why not start at her home? Why would I know anything?’
    â€˜I was hoping you could give me some background first on your brother.’
    â€˜Ah, you’ve heard about Murad, then.’ She smiled.
    â€˜Heard what?’
    â€˜Well,’ Noriah reasoned, ‘why are you starting here instead of just meeting him?’ She lit a cigarette and passed the pack around. Not home-rolled, but store-bought. ‘But you’ve heard he’s a fierce one, likely to snap your head off. People are frightened of him.’ She shrugged. ‘No need to be. Bukan harimau nak