Rashida breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the small white house that stood beside the Blida road. It wasn't very grand, only four rooms in all, grouped round the eedurtyard, from where stairs led up to the fiat roof. There was the small bedroom she shared with Grandma, and a kitchen and shower, and the salon they kept for visitors outside, hens scrabbled in the dust underneath the lemon tree. a Rashida ran forward, making the hens flap and squawk as they got out of her way, and burst in through the front door. Grandma was there in the courtyard. sweeping the floor. In her long black dress and faded pi shaw was as real and solid as a doum tree, and hardly ltered when Rashida threw her arms around her