Page 7 of The New Girl

Safa shrugged. ‘It’s what Muslim girls do. We also cover our heads with a hijab, but Mrs Roberts said I could only wear it coming to and from school but not inside. I am finding that very difficult.’

Ruby looked at Safa’s long, thick, shiny black hair. Why would she want to cover it? It was gorgeous. ‘What’s a hijab?’

‘It’s a scarf that covers your head.’

‘I don’t get it! Why would you have to cover your hair? It’s amazing.’

‘It’s what Muslim girls do. It’s part of our culture and tradition.’

‘So, you’re telling me that you have to go around with a covered head and body all the time?’

‘Not all the time. When I’m at home, I can uncover my head and wear what I want.’

Ruby didn’t understand. Safa was gorgeous. She had amazing hair and beautiful brown skin. She should be walking around in shorts, swishing her hair about all the time.

‘Look, you have customs that are different to mine. When you make your communion and dress up in a big white dress and a veil – that seemed very strange to me when I saw the girls dressed up in May. They looked as if they were dressed like mini brides.’

Ruby had never thought about it that way. She’d hated her communion dress. It was Orla’s old one and was too tight and was all poufy and flouncy. Ruby had wanted a long, straight dress and no veil. But Robbie was in hospital with a lung infection and Mum was too stressed to take her shopping and besides, money was tight, so she’d just shut up and worn Orla’s poxy dress and veil and pretended she didn’t mind, although she really did mind, a lot.

In the pictures Ruby did look like a little bride. It was a bit strange if you thought about it. ‘Yeah, but that’s only for one day, and believe me, I never wanted to wear the dress or veil again. You have to do this every day.’

Safa shrugged. ‘It’s just what we do. It’s my “normal”. Like for a lot of girls in Ireland, wearing fake tan is normal. This also seems very strange to me. Why would you want to paint your body brown every day?’

Ruby did think that all the fake tan Orla used was ridiculous. She overdid it and often ended up looking kind of orange. But all her friends did it too. All teenagers seemed to. ‘I guess we all do things that seem weird to each other.’

Safa gave a little smile. ‘My father always used to say, “If we were all the same, life would be very dull.”’

‘Your dad sounds clever.’

‘He is.’

Ruby could sense a sadness when Safa mentioned her dad. It was the way she felt when she said Robbie’s name. ‘Is your dad here too? You said it was just your mum and you, so ...’ Dammit, maybe he’d been killed in the bomb at her school that she mentioned. Oh no, she shouldn’t have asked. What if he was dead?Please don’t let him be dead in a big bomb.

Safa’s eyes clouded over. ‘No, he is in Greece. He couldn’t get a visa to come here. But we’re hoping and praying that he will come soon.’

‘Do Catholic prayers count? Like, if I pray will it help?’

Safa smiled. ‘All prayers count. Thank you.’

Ruby wasn’t sure about God any more. If God was all kind and loving, why was Robbie the way he was? When he was first born, four years ago, Ruby had prayed every day that he’d get better. But he didn’t. Still, it was worth a few prayers to try and help Safa get her dad back. She’d try her best.

When Ruby got home, her mum was waiting at the front door.

‘He’s watchingPeppa Pig. There’s twenty minutes left and then his dinner is in the oven. Make sure none of the peas roll down and touch the chicken.’

‘OK. Have a good time.’

‘Thanks, love, you’re a good girl.’ Fiona bent down and gave Ruby a hug. It was the first hug she’d had in a while.

Mum was always either with Robbie or falling asleep all over the house. Ruby had once found her asleep on the loo! Since Robbie arrived her mum and dad were constantly exhausted. Before he came along, they used to do loads of stuff together. Now ... well, now they had no time and no energy. Whenever they’d tried a ‘fun family outing’ it always ended up with Robbie freaking out or breaking something or shouting the place down. Mum and Dad would get really stressed and they’d all have to leave the restaurant, cinema, park – wherever they were – and go home. They never really bothered any more. Sometimes, on special occasions, her mum would take her out to the café down the road for a hot chocolate and a bun, but they were always rushing to get back or the phone would ring and Dad would say Robbie wanted Mum NOW.

Mum turned around when she got to the end of the little path outside their house. ‘Wasn’t Orla supposed to look after Robbie today?’

‘Yeah, but we swapped. It’s fine.’

‘OK, well, make sure she does next week.’

‘Sure,’ Ruby said. She was delighted that her mum had actually noticed, but she knew that by the time she got back from yoga she’d have forgotten all about it.

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