Read Online Casablanca Blues (2013) by Tahir Shah - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tahir Shah
Tags: adventure
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scarf from her Hermès Birkin, like a magician in the middle of a trick, she used it to push open the door.
The lair of hungry cats was awaiting her inside.
In deep hash-induced sleep on the sofa lay the clerk. Like his pets, he was unused to high society. Opening an eye, he struggled drowsily to sit upright, as the scent and silhouette of Ghita’s best friend approached.
Before she knew it, Aicha was standing outside room thirteen. She knocked.
The door opened inwards.
As soon as she saw her friend, Ghita burst into a flood of tears. She was inconsolable.
‘I can never forgive him!’ she sobbed. ‘Baba’s cruelty knows no bounds.’
‘But my dear Ghita, why are you here?’
‘Baba thinks I can’t survive in the real world. He thinks I’m incompetent, that I’m lazy.’
‘My darling, this is not reality. It’s Hell,’ Aicha said, pulling Ghita’s reddened cheek to her mink-covered breast, the tears soaked up by the fur.
‘What horror! What absolute horror! Get your things and come with me at once! The Bentley’s waiting downstairs. Come and stay with me for as long as you wish.’
Collapsing onto the bed, Ghita waved a finger left and right.
‘I’m going to break him,’ she snarled. ‘He’s a beast, but there’s no way I’ll let him win!’
‘But now that you’ve proved him wrong, surely you can go home.’
‘No, I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
Ghita wiped a tear from her chin.
‘I said I would support myself for a month.’
‘
A month
! That’s ridiculous!’
‘No it’s not. I have to prove to him that I’m as capable as anyone else... and I’m certainly as capable as any of those goons he employs. He regards me as useless as a little toy poodle, but I’m going to show him! Besides, he’s sure to have his spies out checking up on me. You know how he is.’
Aicha reached out, her mink cuff brushing over her friend’s shoulder.
‘There’s danger in this,’ she said. ‘It may be a matter of honour for you, but what if they find out?’
‘
They
?’
‘Mustapha... our friends...
society
!’
Ghita swallowed hard, her eyes welling with tears.
‘This is more important to me than anything else,’ she said.
‘More than losing your fiancé? Don’t be so stubborn. Come with me now.’
‘I can’t. I really can’t. I just ask that you give me some time and,’ Ghita swallowed again, ‘and that you lend me some money to buy a proper meal.’
Reaching into her Birkin, Aicha removed a brick of bank notes. It was two inches thick.
‘Here’s some change,’ she said.
Ghita reached out in a hug.
‘Please promise me that you won’t tell Baba that you saw me, or that you lent me this,’ she said. ‘I want him to think I’m suffering. I know that with a little time he’ll come crawling to me on his knees.’
Thirty-six
A water-seller was chiming his great brass bell outside the Marrakech Gate, the main entrance to Casablanca’s old medina.
He was dressed in traditional red robes, and straw hat decorated with pompoms, his chest crisscrossed with water-skins. Spotting a foreigner he made a beeline across the flagstones. But Blaine waved him aside, and pushed his way through the arch.
Lost in the shadows of late morning there were storytellers huddled in circles, and all manner of services and wares – shoe-shiners and lizard-sellers, rat-catchers, letter-writers, and stalls selling everything from underpants to imitation Rolexes, and from Reeboks to freshly stolen phones.
Blaine’s attention was drawn in all directions.
He paused to watch a snake-charmer, flute in hand, the cobra’s hood jerking back and forth as if about to strike. Nearby, lamb kebabs were roasting on a makeshift brazier, the heavy oily smoke hanging like a curtain in the bright sunlight. A group of acrobatic dwarfs were tumbling from each other’s shoulders. As he pushed through the crowd to watch them, Blaine felt someone nudge up hard against him.
Fumbling a hand into his pocket, he
The lair of hungry cats was awaiting her inside.
In deep hash-induced sleep on the sofa lay the clerk. Like his pets, he was unused to high society. Opening an eye, he struggled drowsily to sit upright, as the scent and silhouette of Ghita’s best friend approached.
Before she knew it, Aicha was standing outside room thirteen. She knocked.
The door opened inwards.
As soon as she saw her friend, Ghita burst into a flood of tears. She was inconsolable.
‘I can never forgive him!’ she sobbed. ‘Baba’s cruelty knows no bounds.’
‘But my dear Ghita, why are you here?’
‘Baba thinks I can’t survive in the real world. He thinks I’m incompetent, that I’m lazy.’
‘My darling, this is not reality. It’s Hell,’ Aicha said, pulling Ghita’s reddened cheek to her mink-covered breast, the tears soaked up by the fur.
‘What horror! What absolute horror! Get your things and come with me at once! The Bentley’s waiting downstairs. Come and stay with me for as long as you wish.’
Collapsing onto the bed, Ghita waved a finger left and right.
‘I’m going to break him,’ she snarled. ‘He’s a beast, but there’s no way I’ll let him win!’
‘But now that you’ve proved him wrong, surely you can go home.’
‘No, I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
Ghita wiped a tear from her chin.
‘I said I would support myself for a month.’
‘
A month
! That’s ridiculous!’
‘No it’s not. I have to prove to him that I’m as capable as anyone else... and I’m certainly as capable as any of those goons he employs. He regards me as useless as a little toy poodle, but I’m going to show him! Besides, he’s sure to have his spies out checking up on me. You know how he is.’
Aicha reached out, her mink cuff brushing over her friend’s shoulder.
‘There’s danger in this,’ she said. ‘It may be a matter of honour for you, but what if they find out?’
‘
They
?’
‘Mustapha... our friends...
society
!’
Ghita swallowed hard, her eyes welling with tears.
‘This is more important to me than anything else,’ she said.
‘More than losing your fiancé? Don’t be so stubborn. Come with me now.’
‘I can’t. I really can’t. I just ask that you give me some time and,’ Ghita swallowed again, ‘and that you lend me some money to buy a proper meal.’
Reaching into her Birkin, Aicha removed a brick of bank notes. It was two inches thick.
‘Here’s some change,’ she said.
Ghita reached out in a hug.
‘Please promise me that you won’t tell Baba that you saw me, or that you lent me this,’ she said. ‘I want him to think I’m suffering. I know that with a little time he’ll come crawling to me on his knees.’
Thirty-six
A water-seller was chiming his great brass bell outside the Marrakech Gate, the main entrance to Casablanca’s old medina.
He was dressed in traditional red robes, and straw hat decorated with pompoms, his chest crisscrossed with water-skins. Spotting a foreigner he made a beeline across the flagstones. But Blaine waved him aside, and pushed his way through the arch.
Lost in the shadows of late morning there were storytellers huddled in circles, and all manner of services and wares – shoe-shiners and lizard-sellers, rat-catchers, letter-writers, and stalls selling everything from underpants to imitation Rolexes, and from Reeboks to freshly stolen phones.
Blaine’s attention was drawn in all directions.
He paused to watch a snake-charmer, flute in hand, the cobra’s hood jerking back and forth as if about to strike. Nearby, lamb kebabs were roasting on a makeshift brazier, the heavy oily smoke hanging like a curtain in the bright sunlight. A group of acrobatic dwarfs were tumbling from each other’s shoulders. As he pushed through the crowd to watch them, Blaine felt someone nudge up hard against him.
Fumbling a hand into his pocket, he
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