Marrying Ameera Read Free Page A

your holidays.’ He paused and glanced at me. ‘Then I may have a surprise for you.’
    I looked at Mum. I could tell she didn’t know what he was referring to either. He didn’t enlighten us, just rubbed his hands together as he went out of the room.
    ‘Mum, do I have to go? I could make up that green silk Aunty Khushida sent from Kashmir.’
    ‘Just humour him today, love.’
    I took a novel with me because I knew that Papa’s idea of me helping wouldn’t entail me speaking to customers or doing anything interesting. He would closet me in his stuffy little office fixing up his invoices on his business software.
    I wasn’t wrong about the office work but Papa did surprise me at lunchtime. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘We’ll shut the shop and eat at the café.’
    He took me to an Italian café, one of my favourite foods. I was so touched. It had felt lately as if he’d forgotten who I was and what I liked, but that lunch was special. He spoke a lot about his family in Azad Kashmir and how they were getting their business back in order after the earthquake. I knew he telephoned them often at night.
    ‘They asked after you,’ he said.
    I smiled. ‘That’s nice. Did Meena too?’
    ‘Yes, yes, Meena too.’ Then he put his hand on mine. ‘Ameera, you are my only daughter and I want the best for you.’
    I blinked at him. He sounded so serious.
    ‘Parents make decisions for their children because they love them. You understand this?’
    I nodded slowly, even though I had no idea what he had in mind.
    The next day I managed to slip out to the mall without any questions from Papa. I met Raniya and we went to a café.
    Raniya was wearing a short Indonesian scarf covering her hair. I’d noticed she was wearing short scarves more lately. I still just wore my long Pakistani dupatta around my neck. Papa hadn’t insisted I cover my head though he’d be proud of me if I did. Mum felt that covering your head in a non-Muslim country defeated the purpose. ‘Isn’t it so as not to draw attention to yourself?’ she’d said one day. It was true that Raniya got more attention than I did when we were out together.
    ‘Papa took me out yesterday,’ I told her. ‘It was nice but it wasn’t the same as when I was young. He and I used to get on so well. Now, it’s like he’s noticed that I’m growing up and he’s keeping his distance but still has to protect me. We’re in Australia—there are no terrorists, no war, and who’s going to kidnap me? He’s overprotective—it’s annoying.’
    ‘All Muslim fathers are the same. Even Natasha says her father’s paranoid about her and they’re Australian.’
    ‘What’s their problem?’ I didn’t mean to sound so grouchy.
    Raniya gave me a measured glance. ‘You were brought up Muslim—you understand.’
    ‘Morality,’ I said with a sigh. ‘We have to be good, be hospitable, pray. I agree with those ideals, but why does it have to be so difficult? Papa’s stricter than your father. Why can’t he trust me? That old movie we saw recently, The Go-Between, remember? The fiancé said that nothing is a lady’s fault. Well, my father thinks the opposite. I bet if he’d caught Tariq bringing me home, he would have blamed me, not Riaz. It’s not fair.’
    Raniya stirred another sugar into her cappuccino. ‘We gain favour in God’s eyes if we submit. It’s more important to impress God than to please ourselves.’ She kept her head down as she spoke.
    I was speechless. I was just letting off steam; I didn’t need a sermon.
    Then Raniya dropped another bomb. ‘Maybe it’s because of your mother.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Maybe your father’s stricter because he thinks you’ll be influenced by your mother’s faith.’
    Any mention of my mother like this made the blood rush to my head. I bet they all thought Mum was a bad influence on us. ‘But Riaz and I have been brought up Muslim. Mum agreed.’ It was hard to keep my tone even.
    ‘I didn’t mean to upset