Fatima’s mother firmly believed that Yasser was a perfect match for her. She mentioned him frequently at home, though less for Fatima’s benefit than for her father’s; although Haj Nimr adored and respected his cousin, he remained evasive on the question of his cousin’s son. Yasser was a reasonable choice, was a member of the family, had attained a high office in the Ottoman army, and was heir to most of Haj Hassan’s lands in the Jordan Valley. But Nimr prized Fatima as both his eldest girl and the more beautiful, and consequently was hoping for someone even wealthier. When they talked about Yasser he regarded Fatima from across the table, and she would blush and avert her gaze. But, confined by the demands of his new political office, Haj Nimr had neither the time nor the opportunity to seek out other suitors, and his wife continued to push for her choice. Yasser was a good man, she repeated. Fatima rather thought that at thirty-two he sounded too old for her, but since the thought of marrying anyone was terrifying, at least if he was a relative she would have more access to her family.
Haj Hassan Hammad’s land in Zawata lay in the shadow of Mount Ebal. A third of the way up the mountainside, a large perpendicular rock protruded. Near the centre of the rock was a cave, and in its western corner was another smaller adjoining cave, its entrance blocked by stone. The story went that a female Islamic saint called Sitt Salamiyeh had died in Damascus, and when she was placed in her coffin her body rose through the air and vanished, appearing in this cave through the western corner, which had miraculously opened to receive her. The rock was now a pilgrimage site where oil was burned in her honour. The floor of the cave was scattered with earthen bottles, the walls studded with lamps.
That evening, while her father entertained his guests, Fatima escaped through the kitchen garden and climbed the mountain path. When she reached the cave she removed her veil and struck a match to light one of the lamps. Shadows shook and sprang across the chamber wall. She lit two more, knelt by the tomb, and prayed to Sitt Salamiyeh that whoever she married would have a habit of kindness withindoors.
Fatima was sixteen. She had stopped attending school two years ago, and was now apprenticed in the art of running a household. In the mornings she packed away the bedding, rolled up each mattress and tied it with string, folded the sheets and slotted them into the cupboard. Even though they had a maid who did most of the laundry, her mother was emphatic that Fatima master everything. She herself came from a poorer family and knew the importance of self-reliance in case of hard times. And so, after packing away the nightclothes, Fatima began the ironing, heating the coals first in a brazier and inserting them with tongs into the flatiron. Afterwards she set the iron on a trivet to cool, and helped the maid fold the sheets and garments into piles. Then she joined her mother in the kitchen where she would usually eat a piece of bread before helping with the preparations for lunch.
Until that year and ever since Fatima could remember, the upper part of the house had been occupied by Turkish soldiers, who used it for accommodation and sometimes as a meeting house, and with that curious mixture of fearful deference and the pride of the chosen Haj Nimr had made no show of resistance. Turkish cuisine infused the Hammad kitchen, and Fatima learned to cook white bean pilaf, stewed spring lamb, and stuffed chicken at the side of the Turkish cook. With the onset of war the Turks were replaced by Germans, who helped stock the kitchen as prices soared in the markets. And now, three years later, Fatima’s family at last recovered the use of their upper rooms, and her father’s rise to prominence in the town was matched by her mother’s delight at being in charge of the house again.
Once lunch was on the boil or in the oven, Fatima returned upstairs to her clothes iron, which she brushed with hot beeswax to ward off rust. She spent the time that remained reading magazines and stitching, and just after four o’clock her sister and brother came home from school and the family gathered for lunch.