Read She Wore Red Trainers for Free Online Page B

‘you’re getting all these services for free, all because you’re my best friend.’
    Rania snorted. ‘Girl, please, you know you love it! And one day, when my brand is famous and I’m flying you to Dubai for my latest show, you’ll be able to say, “I was there when it all began.”’
    I pulled a face. ‘Yeah, yeah, keep saying that while you treat me like a slave.’
    Then we both laughed and went back to picking the accessories we wanted for each outfit in the show.
    â€˜I wish my dad was here to see this.’ Rania’s voice was low and I could tell that this was something that had been playing on her mind for a while. She always missed her dad when things were going well, like when she had played Lady Macbeth in the school play, or the time her design was chosen for the new school sports kit.
    â€˜He would have been so happy,’ she always said. ‘He always told me I could do anything.’
    A lump in my throat appeared at that moment, just before the tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t know what that felt like: having a father who not only stuck around and played the role of ‘Dad’, but encouraged me to achieve my potential, and who was my biggest fan. Rania was so blessed. Really, she was.
    Then Rania looked up at me. ‘What about your stepdad? Is he still troubling you?’
    I had confided in her about Abu Malik months ago. Now I told her how he had left the house and that my mum was in her waiting period – the iddah – before the divorce would be finalised.
    She heaved a huge sigh and hugged me. ‘Do you think that’s it then?’
    I shrugged and did my very best ‘I-don’t-care’ fake out. ‘Hey, what can I say? Let the merry-go-round begin. It’s only Round Two, remember? A lot can happen in three months so he could be back again.’
    â€˜Don’t, Ams,’ Rania said, and my heart twisted at the sadness in her voice. ‘I hate it when you talk like that, all hard,as if you don’t care.’
    I heaved a sigh. ‘Rani, I had to stop caring a long time ago. This isn’t the first time, remember? I’ve been through all this before, so many times I’ve lost count. Of course, I hate the upheaval, especially for the kids, but, to be honest, I sometimes wish there were no stepfathers on the scene at all. Just us. Then, at least, we could have some stability. My mum doesn’t handle the iddah well at all.’
    Rania closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’s just too awful, Ams. I can’t even imagine it.’
    â€˜Of course not, Rani,’ I said, suppressing the bitterness in my voice. ‘Your parents were happily married for 18 years, mashallah. You had your dad around. You don’t know what it’s like to have stepdads and divorces and waiting periods going on all around you since you were little. You’re not a victim of your mother’s chaotic love life, basically.’ I felt bad then. It wasn’t Mum’s fault, not really. She just didn’t pick husbands very well. Either that, or she was a magnet for losers, troublemakers and men who just didn’t know how to value her.
    This wasn’t the first time Mum’s relationship had failed. She’d had my older brother Zayd when she was 17, and me three years later. Neither of our fathers had stuck around long enough to name us so we had spent our early years with my nan while Mum tried to finish school, get a hairdressing qualification, anything to get some money coming in and some independence.
    But then she met Uncle Faisal. He was running a da’wah stall on Brixton High Street, telling passers-by about Islam. Mum had stopped to listen and had been moved by the message. She always told us that it was the purity of Islam– the worship of one God, the clean lifestyle – that had first attracted her to the religion.
    So she accepted Islam and Uncle Faisal