Shadow Play Read Online Free PDF Page B

speak,”
    â€œYes, how awful,” Aisha murmured.
    Maryam was stunned. Was Aisha really commiserating with her because the performance was ruined, when it was her husband who was killed? Rather cold, Maryam thought, shooting Rubiah a penetrating look. Or was that just a strange overabundance of courtesy?
    â€œYes, indeed,” she continued, trying to understand Aisha’s expression, which was blank. “So anyway, I feel as though it’s my business too, and well, it’s sometimes difficult for the police to talk to people, so I thought Mak Cik Rubiah and I could help. We too want to find whoever would do such a thing, such a vicious thing, to your husband.”
    â€œSo you’re working for the police,” Aisha said slowly.
    â€œYes,” Rubiah jumped in, “unless you’d prefer to talk to them, and, of course, you could …”
    â€œNo, not really,” Aisha said, almost dreamily. “It’s easier to talk toyou, Mak Cik.” She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
    Maryam took a fortifying sip of coffee and steeled herself for tears. She composed herself to look as sympathetic as possible. “How long have you been married, Cik Aisha?” she began gently.
    â€œFive years. I have two kids, four and two.”
    â€œAnd you’re from here too, aren’t you?”
    â€œFrom Tawang? Yes, of course. I’ve known Ghani since we were little.”
    Maryam nodded, encouraging her to talk about her life.
    â€œWell, Ghani started playing with Pak Cik Dollah since he was small—he always loved playing the drums. He didn’t really go to school, me neither. But I can read and so could he. His father was worried about him travelling around and getting into trouble, and Pak Cik ‘Lah promised to watch out for him. He’s been everywhere,” Aisha was picking up speed now, speaking more fluently, and had stopped staring at her lap and was now talking to both women directly, “Patani, Kuala Krai,” here she grimaced, “Bacok, all over. Pak Cik Lah is very popular, the most popular dalang in Kelantan. You knew that, right?” She smiled, and Maryam smiled back.
    â€œAnyway, I was around sixteen and Ghani’s parents came to mine and asked for me, to marry him. I always liked him. He’s very handsome; used to be.” She rose and pulled a frame wrapped in newspaper out of a bag and pulled the paper off. “This is when we got married,” she explained to the women. “See?”
    Maryam and Rubiah leaned over a color photo of two teenagers in their wedding finery: both wearing light blue kain songket, which to Maryam’s expert eye was certainly of acceptable, if not top, quality. They were both solemn-faced, as Malay wedding portraits alwayswere, and they could see here that Ghani had been remarkably good looking: his cheekbones were high and his nose chiseled. Aisha too looked fetching, with large eyes and a round face, but the eye was drawn to him.
    â€œYou look lovely here,” Rubiah said sweetly. “Oh, he’s handsome, yes, but look at you!”
    Aisha was self-deprecating, “Thanks, but I’m just saying, he was always noticed, and it’s gotten him into a world of trouble now.”
    Rubiah cocked her head. “Now?”
    â€œYes, now!” Aisha’s cheeks were turning red. “He just married a second wife, and look what she’s done!” Rubiah looked shocked and Aisha continued. “Don’t you think she killed him when he told her to go back to Kuala Krai? She knew she lost. She came here, you know. She just showed up one night, it was just a week ago, can you believe it? Just showed up here and dropped her stuff on the floor here and said ‘Here I am!’
    â€˜Who are you?’ I asked her, and she said “Oh, I married Ghani, didn’t he tell you?’
    â€˜Of course he didn’t tell me. Why should I believe you?’ I