Читать книгу The Rooftop - Toby Hammerschlag - Страница 7

Tuesday Afternoon

As Maha packed her school bag, she wondered why the end of the school day always seemed to come around so quickly. She loved school and soaked up all the new subjects even though she struggled to understand some of the English words of her teacher with her strong Australian accent.

“G’day” and “Good on you!” she would practise saying to herself in front of the mirror at home but never dared to say these funny sounding phrases aloud at school. Maths was her best subject and she was always the first to finish. She even found herself handing her finished sheet to Talia who struggled with numbers and sat miserably chewing on the end of her pencil during Maths class.

Maha started walking slowly home. She could have caught the bus to nearby Surry Hills but she chose the half-hour walk to avoid as long as possible the responsibilities that always awaited her when she got home. As she arrived home, Maha stood for a moment looking up at the tall, ugly building that they now called home. She could see the many broken window panes covered by cardboard and the torn, dirty, fading cream-coloured net curtains that fluttered in the breeze. The outside area was just a mass of dirt that had turned to dry dust in the summer heat and Maha hated how it stuck to her clothes and shoes. She sighed and entered the foyer of the building. She always held her breath to avoid the stale odour that hung in the lift as it slowly lumbered up the fifteen floors to her unit. Her mother was waiting anxiously for her return in their sparsely furnished unit. The only adornment was the brightly coloured prayer rug in shades of purple and red that lay across the sitting room floor. Her mother was waiting to go shopping with her as she still did not have the confidence to ask in English for what she required and relied on Maha to be her spokesperson. Her mother began to cover her hair with her scarf as she prepared to go out. Maha walked companionably next to her mother and chatted happily in Arabic about her school and her new friends, being careful not to mention the Jewish Scripture class.

They arrived at the local Franklins supermarket and began to do their shopping. Maha knew without being told that they could only afford the cheapest items and she would scour the shelves for home-brands and discounted items. The huge, boisterous Italian man behind the fish counter who had taken a liking to the shy pair greeted them cheerily.

“Hello lovely ladies, today there is a great special on perch fillets and for your smiling faces another ten per cent off!” Maha knew that he was trying to help them and she appreciated his kindness. However, she felt her mother’s embarrassment as she shook her head to say ‘no’ to the offer. Maha scanned the prices, searching for the cheapest fish, “A kilogram, thank you,” she said pointing to the bream. He smiled at the timid girl with the strange accent. Maha watched as the fishmonger wrapped up a lot more than one kilogram of bream and hoped that her mother hadn’t noticed.