In the Ghorami household sex was never mentioned. If the television was on and a kissing-with-tongues scene threatened the chaste and cardamom-scented home, it was swiftly terminated by a flick of the black box. When Yasmin began her first period, her mother had slipped her a pack of Kotex Maxi pads and murmured instructions not to touch the Qu’ran. This was confusing because Yasmin never touched the Qu’ran anyway, except at the behest of her mother. But it also made sense because menstruation, as she had learned in a biology class, was linked to reproduction. And the dotted-line diagrams in the textbook were, surprisingly yet undeniably, linked to the actors who pushed their tongues into each other’s mouths, thus ruining everyone’s viewing pleasure.
Now, at the age of twenty-six, Yasmin knew all about sex. The human body had long since yielded its mysteries. She had slept with three men, and was engaged to be married to the third, Joe, a fellow doctor at St Barnabas hospital. Her parents, Shaokat and Anisah, liked Joe because as a doctor he was automatically suitable, and because everyone liked Joe, he was gifted that way. If Anisah longed for her daughter to marry a good Muslim boy it was an opinion she kept to herself.
Yasmin sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by medical texts, waiting to be called down for dinner. She should have been studying for yet another exam, but couldn’t concentrate. Four books lay open to demonstrate a commitment that she was unable to put into effect. Instead, she leafed through a magazine she’d found discarded on the train. On the cover: Fake Split! Secret Reunion! She’s a Wreck! The headlines referred to celebrities, all pictured, only one of whom Yasmin could identify. This dampened her enjoyment only marginally. She preferred, in any case, the stories about ‘real people’. The one she had just finished was about a mother-of-three from Doncaster, who had recently
discovered that her seven-year-old daughter was not her biological offspring, a mix-up having occurred at the hospital when she was born.
The things people go through! And she, Yasmin, had nothing to worry about, and so much to be grateful for. When tomorrow night was over she’d laugh at herself. It wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. Her parents would meet Joe’s mother for the first time. They’d all eat dinner together at her house in Primrose Hill and discuss wedding plans and make polite conversation. Big deal…





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