Page 17 of The New Girl

‘Will you?’

‘Sure.’

‘That would be great.’ Ruby watched as Denise pelted the ball towards the goal. Safa dived sideways and saved it.

Ruby cheered. Safa looked over and smiled, a real smile. Ruby felt warm inside. Even though it had only been a week, Safa was beginning to feel like a friend.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Safa

Safa approached the receptionist at the medical clinic.

‘Hello, I need to see a doctor. Well, actually my mother does.’

‘Doctor Jennings can see you in about half an hour,’ the receptionist said.

‘Is he a man?’ Safa asked.

‘Yes,’ the receptionist said.

‘We can’t see a man. It has to be a woman doctor.’

‘Well, there are no female doctors free this morning. They’re all booked up.’

Safa swallowed. ‘Is there any way you could squeeze us in? My mother is feeling very unwell.’

The receptionist looked over at Mama, who was sitting in a chair in the corner, looking very pale. She shrugged. ‘It’s Doctor Jennings or nothing.’

Safa tried to stay calm. She wanted to scream. ‘We can’t see a male doctor. We are Muslim women.’

But she didn’t want to have to explain why a Muslim woman could not be alone with a man who wasn’t her husband, brother or father. Safa was sick and tired of explaining things and translating all the time. She wanted Mama to learn English. She wanted Baba to come and help out, to be here, to be her dad and Mama’s husband. She was sick of having to do everything. She was so tired, so very tired.

Safa didn’t realise she was crying until a woman came up and handed her a tissue. The woman patted her on the back. ‘There, there, dear. You can take my appointment with Doctor Brady and I’ll go to Doctor Jennings. Doctor Brady is a female doctor.’

Safa looked up. The woman was about Mama’s age and she had such kind eyes.

‘Thank you so much,’ Safa said, turning her back so Mama wouldn’t see she was crying. ‘It’s so kind of you.’

‘It’s my pleasure. Doctor Brady is very kind and a very good doctor. Your mother will be in good hands. Don’t worry, pet, it’ll all be fine.’

Safa held the tissue to her mouth to stop the sob escaping. This woman’s kindness was making her weep. But she had to hold it together for Mama. She took a deep breath and tried to smile. ‘Thanks,’ she croaked, and then dried her eyes and went back over to her mother.

When it was their turn, they shuffled into the surgery and sat opposite the doctor. Dr Brady smiled reassuringly at Safa and her mother. ‘What seems to be the problem?’

Mama told Safa and Safa translated. ‘Her heart is beating very fast. She fainted this morning. I made her come. She is afraid of doctors. She’s afraid of being unwell. I think ...’ Safa’s voice shook. ‘I think she’s afraid of dying.’

Dr Brady reached over and patted her hand. ‘You’re a very responsible girl. I’m going to do everything I can to help your mum. I’m going to take your mother’s blood pressure, temperature, listen to her breathing, and a few other tests. I’ll explain it to you, and you can translate for her.’

They went through the tests. Dr Brady didn’t say much but listened carefully to Mama’s heart and lungs and took her temperature and checked her throat and her ears and her glands and measured her height and weight ...

After all the tests, she told Mama to sit down. ‘Has your mother been under a lot of stress lately?’ she asked.

Safa almost laughed. She heard people in Ireland using the word ‘stress’ all the time. ‘I’m so stressed about this spot on my chin’, ‘I’m so stressed about my hair’, ‘School is such a stress’ ... It was funny to Safa because she knew what real stress was. Mama knew what real stress was too.

‘Yes, Mama has had a lot of stress.’

‘I imagine you had a long and difficult journey here?’ Dr Brady said gently.

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