Evanly Bodies - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,5

she found out that Mrs. Evans was the schoolteacher. I'd only be in the way at the shop while Daddy and Rashid are working anyway."

"So has your family moved in yet?"

"We're in the process of moving in. We had the van bring up some things today, and the rest is coming tomorrow. Daddy says they'll have the shop opened on Saturday." She spoke, like her brother, with a slight Yorkshire accent.

"Where are you living now then?" Evan asked.

"We've been renting a couple of rooms in Bangor so that Rashid and I could start the school year here. But now we'll be living in the flat over the shop. It's going to be rather crowded, but I expect we'll survive. Rashid wants to move into student housing at the university as soon as they can find a suitable place."

"That shouldn't take long, should it? I thought the university would find housing for students."

"Well, there is plenty of housing, but not what Rashid wants. He'll only live with other Muslim students, you see, so they're trying to find a house to rent-and not everybody is too keen to rent to a group of Pakistani boys, as you can imagine."

"That's illegal, isn't it?" Bronwen said angrily.

"I'm sure it is," Evan agreed, "but you're not surprised to hear that an old Welsh landlady finds an excuse not to let out rooms to anybody who looks so different, are you? It's very hard to prove a discrimination case. But I'm sure the university will have to come up with something if your brother perseveres."

"Oh, he's good at pushing to get his own way, believe me." Jamila smiled. "Rashid is a great one for his rights."

"Well, don't just stand there, Evan," Bronwen said. "Dinner's all ready, and I'm sure you're starving as usual. Let's eat, and we can continue our conversation at the dining table." She put a hand on Jamila's shoulder. "I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen, Jamila, but we decided the living room would be too cramped if we tried to fit in a dining table."

"Oh no, I think what you've got here is just lovely," she said. "So warm and friendly, like something out of a storybook."

"That was the idea," Bronwen said. "Sit down, you two. It's a chicken casserole tonight. You don't have any dietary restrictions about chicken, do you, Jamila?"

"I'm not like my brother, Mrs. Evans." Jamila rolled her eyes. "I'm not particularly religious. I don't eat pork because my family never cooks it, but I've eaten a sausage at a friend's house before now. I mean, it made sense not to eat pork when people lived in a desert and had no means of refrigeration, but now pigs are as safe as any other animals, aren't they?"

"Well, I'd agree with that," Bronwen said, ladling out a generous helping of casserole onto Jamila's plate and putting it in front of her, "but many people feel passionately about it, don't they? Wars have been started over less."

"I know. My parents were never particularly religious either. My father has always behaved like a good Muslim-going to the mosque, saying his prayers, that kind of thing-but he was never fanatical about it. But now my brother has gone off the deep end. He's been bullying me to wear a hajib-you know, a scarf around my head. I've refused flatly. I mean, I live in the UK, don't I? And I think it's insulting to women to tell them to make themselves invisible. If it was up to Rashid, he'd make Mummy and me be hidden under burkas and never go out." She looked at their faces and laughed. "No, I'm serious. He's been going on at my father not to let me go to any parties or anywhere apart from school where I'm not escorted by a male family member. That's so silly, isn't it?"

"Well, I say stick to your guns, Jamila," Bronwen said.

Jamila beamed. "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Evans. You don't know how encouraging it is to hear that. Luckily I've already made some good friends at school, and they're supportive too. I'm trying hard to learn Welsh quickly; then I can talk to my friends on the phone, and Rashid won't know what I'm saying."

"You can come up here and practice with us," Evan said. "I'm a policeman and I often work long hours. Bronwen would enjoy the company, wouldn't you, love?"

"That would be lovely," Bronwen said. "I'll help you with your Welsh if you like. And since I'm