Rosewater and Soda Bread Read Online Free PDF Page A

the
Sunday World
. Tore it out of the back section,” Layla explained, handing the newspaper scrap over to Marjan.
    Marjan read the print, done in medieval lettering:
    FAT FRIAR'S PHARMACY
    FOR ALL YOUR WANTON NEEDS
    INTERNATIONAL SELECTION
    OF BIRTH CONTROL PRODUCTS for
    THE MODERN COUPLE
    CANTERBURY ROAD, CROYDON LET THE FRIAR STOKE YOUR FIRES
    “It's near Gloria's apartment,” Layla said, blushing profusely. “In Croydon.”
    Marjan looked up from the piece of paper. “Gloria?” Her closest companion when they had lived in London, Gloria Del-monico had been a great comfort to Marjan in those dark months and years after they left Iran. It was Gloria who had calmed them down and helped pack all their belongings the night they heard again from Bahar's husband, out of the blue. It was her dear friend who had sent the three of them to Ireland with blessings, on to her dear aunt Estelle.
    “Yeah, well, see, ummm … well, I know how she still sends you the odd package. I just thought—We, Malachy and me,thought that, uh, you could ask her to, to …” Layla paused uncomfortably and squirmed, looking down at the book in her hands.
    Marjan had more than an inkling of where the conversation was going. “You want Gloria to send over some birth control. Condoms.” She found herself blushing as well.
    Layla nodded, sighing with relief.
    “For you and Malachy?” Marjan gently prodded. Layla gave another quick nod, her eyes still on the Shakespearean masterpiece.
    “They're not really sold in Ireland. Well, at least not so much in the West.”
    Marjan studied the advertisement again. “Let the Friar Stoke Your Fires.” It would have been amusing in any other situation. She racked her brain for the right words of response.
    “Are you sure you're ready?” she said hesitantly, peering into Layla's bent face. “What about just taking your time with, uh, kissing and the rest of it?” The station door creaked open just then, and out walked Antonia Nolan and her daughter. The two women stood under the awning for a moment.
    “We've been doing all that. For two years nearly,” Layla replied. “What do you think happens every time we park on the Beach?”
    Marjan's eyes widened with realization. Parking. “Ah,” she said, pausing. “Have you done—I mean, did you two, you and Malachy, have you done anything yet?”
    Layla looked up, her almond-shaped eyes dancing impishly. “You mean
sex?
”
    Marjan was taken aback. She had never heard that word come out of her youngest sister's mouth.
    “We haven't,” Layla said with a shrug. “We've come close, though.”
    “What do you mean close?” Marjan whispered, watching June and Antonia as they waddled slowly toward them. She placed her hand on Layla's arm. “Did Malachy try to force you into something? You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, don't you?”
    “But I do want to,” Layla insisted. “I'm the one who's asking, Marjan. Malachy said he'd wait.”
    “But you're so young!”
    “I'm sixteen! Bahar was married by my age.”
    “And that wasn't the best of decisions, was it?” Marjan asked pointedly. She folded the newspaper scrap in half, tucking it into the pocket of her belted jacket just as the two gossips squeezed into a nearby bench.
    “This is a very important matter, Layla.”
    “I know. That's why I came to you,” Layla said, a touch of desperation in her voice.
    “And I'm glad you did. But that doesn't mean I have to approve of what you are doing. Or going to do, for that matter.” Marjan gave her a stern look. “You understand?”
    It did not look like Layla did. Or wanted to, which amounted to the same result. Tossing the play into her knapsack, she leaned back in the bench, crossing her arms with a large pout. “You just don't want me to grow up. That's what it is. You want me to be the baby forever, so you can keep making all the decisions.”
    “That's not true.” Marjan felt hurt. “I'm only trying to do what's