Page 45 of The New Girl

‘Yes, and drink nothing too.’

‘What? But for how long?’ Ruby said.

‘A month.’

‘What?’ They all stared at her.

‘A month? Are you not starving?’ Ruby asked.

Safa laughed. ‘We eat in the early morning and in the evening.’

‘But a whole month? What if you’re playing football and you need a drink of water? I mean, can you not have it?’ Denise asked.

‘You just drink lots of water at dawn and again at sunset.’

‘But ... but that’s mad,’ Denise said.

Safa shrugged. ‘You give up things for Lent.’

‘Yeah, but I gave up crisps and Clara gave up jellies. It’s not remotely the same.’ Denise said.

‘You get used to it and at the end of Ramadan we have our “Christmas”. We give each other presents and all the family gets together and celebrates. It’s so much fun.’

‘I can’t imagine not eating for a day,’ Denise said. ‘I’m always hungry. It must be so hard.’

‘It actually isn’t.’

‘I think you’re amazing, Safa,’ Ruby said. ‘You’ve been through so much and you can fast as well, and you never moan. I tried to give up biscuits last Lent, but then one day after Robbie had had a two-hour meltdown, Mum offered me a chocolate digestive and I took it. Mum lives on coffee, chocolate and biscuits. She says the caffeine and the sugar help keep her going. She could never be a Muslim.’

‘Well, I could never become a Muslim either. I need my food,’ Denise said.

Safa smiled. ‘I guess you never know if you’re going to be able to do something until you’re put into a situation.’

‘My mum says this quote all the time: “A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water,”’ Clara said.

‘Safa’s been in lots of hot water so she must be a really strong tea bag,’ Denise said.

The girls all laughed.

Safa felt happy. She knew that these girls accepted her for who she was. They didn’t care that she had a different religion, different beliefs and customs. They were her friends no matter what and she knew she could trust them. It felt so nice to have good friends again.

She’d never forget Sarra, Amira and Taqwa, her friends from Syria, but Clara, Denise and especially Ruby were her best Irish friends.

Safa was walking home with Ruby, who was unusually quiet.

‘Is everything OK, Ruby?’ she asked. ‘Is Robbie sick?’

‘No, he’s fine. I’m just a bit worried.’

‘About what?’

‘Can I ask you a favour? Will you pray to whoever Muslims pray to that Robbie gets into Grangepark, the school I told you about? We’ll find out in about two weeks, and if he does get in, it’ll be so amazing. It’ll just make everything so much better for him – but also for all of us. Mum will have her days free to work and be a proper mum again and Dad won’t have to drive so many hours and ... and ... well, it just has to happen.’

Safa watched as Ruby fought back tears. ‘I really hope it works out for you,’ she said.

‘It has to.’ Ruby looked at her, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘Otherwise I think my mum will break.’

Safa squeezed Ruby’s hand. She felt sick in her stomach. If there was one thing Safa knew, it was that nothing in life was ever sure. ‘Try to concentrate on the play. It’ll help distract you. The counsellor at the camp in Greece told me that distraction is good; it takes your mind away from the bad things and focuses it on more positive things.’

---