A Canopy of Rose Leaves by Isobel Chace Page A

catch us up and accompany us for the rest of the way.’ Deborah wondered if Roger would be angry if he got to hear about it. But he had less right than anyone else she knew to take her to task for going to the bazaar with Reza. It was a public place when all was said and done, and what could possibly happen to her in such a crowded thoroughfare?
    It was fun looking at the shops with someone as knowledgeable about the various Persian crafts as Reza was. The jewellers opened up their glass counters with a flourish, pointing out the hundreds of turquoises, polished and mounted in silver and gold settings, or unpolished, of all shapes and sizes, and kept in happy profusion in a series of wooden boxes.
    ‘You like?’ Reza asked her. ‘You think turquoise is something you would like to have?’
    ‘They’re beautiful,’ Deborah agreed. She liked looking at them, but she had no desire to own them.
    ‘ Haile gashang ,’ he pronounced carefully. ‘Beautiful! You must say it in Farsi, no? Say it after me! Haile gashang .’
    She repeated the words obediently, her attention beginning to wander.
    ‘Which stones do you like best?’ Reza persisted. ‘Do you prefer gold or silver?’
    ‘Turquoise would suit Maxine, but it doesn’t suit me,’ Deborah said firmly. Something in the shopkeeper’s face told her that he was expecting to make a sale, and life was complicated enough without Reza trying to make her expensive presents.
    ‘Not turquoise,’ he agreed readily. ‘But you would like to see our tribal carpets, yes? You should have one beside your bed and it would have the honour to feel your bare feet last thing at night and first thing in the morning. I will give you the most beautiful one we can find!’
    ‘Indeed you will not!’ Deborah exclaimed. ‘If you can’t behave yourself, I’m going home!’
    ‘But it’s only a little thing between us,’ he pleaded. ‘Look, come and see how fine our carpets are! It’s the custom for every girl when she comes to a marriageable age to make one of these carpets and then it is sold and the money she makes becomes her dowry. If she makes a good sale, she will have her choice of the young nomads who are looking for a bride.’
    He led the way quickly to one of the rug stalls before she could change her mind, and began piling them up around her feet, pointing out the best features of each one in a torrent of words that opposed any interruption on her part.
    Mostly, the rugs had a simple geometric design, but the bright colours made the patterns shine like jewels against the darker surrounds. Some of them had real merit, and Deborah wished that Maxine would have caught them up as the American girl would have appreciated them as much as she did.
    ‘I shall buy you the dozen you like best!’ Reza promised. ‘It’s my duty to do so, for many of the girls are known to me. See, you can see their special marks so that one rug will not be confused with another. It is very important to the girls that they should make a good sale. You would not deny them a happy future, would you, Debbie?’
    She met the appeal in his voice with a blank stare. ‘If Maxine doesn’t catch us up in the next five minutes, I’m going home,’ she declared.
    He was immediately contrite. ‘You think my present is dishonourable?’ he tested her. ‘Not so! I wish only to give you pleasure. Is there something else you would prefer?’
    ‘I don’t want you to buy me anything!’
    ‘ Nothing ?’ He shrugged his shoulders, his mouth drooping with disappointment. ‘You are angry with me? But truly, I wish only to please you!’
    ‘Yes, I know,’ Deborah said gently. ‘But it isn’t right that you should buy me anything of value. You wouldn’t spend your money on a Persian girl like that, would you?’
    ‘ But of course not !’ He gave her a surprised look. ‘She would be embarrassed by such a thing!’
    ‘Then please don’t embarrass me,’ Deborah pressed home her advantage.
    ‘You are