A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe (feel good books .txt) 📕

‘I’m glad they survived. How are things, Fatima?’

‘Great! This time Monday, I’ll be relaxing on Magnetic Island.’

‘Sounds amazing.’

‘But you won’t be able to go to the beach, will you?’ Jade asked. ‘I mean not to swim.’

‘Of course I can. I treated myself to one of these new Nike state-of-the-art swimmers.’ Fatima swiped her phone to a photo of a magenta swimsuit with full-length pants, long-sleeved top and a head covering. ‘It’s super light and dries fast. I can’t wait to snorkel.’

‘At least you won’t get sunburnt,’ Jade said.

Fatima laughed. ‘Or get stung by an Irukandji.’

Tara shuddered. ‘Good point.’

‘Don’t you get sick of always having to cover up all the time?’ Jade asked.

Fatima shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t think about it. Besides, my thighs don’t look good in shorts, so lucky, eh?’ She laughed, her dark eyes dancing. ‘It’s my choice to dress modestly but that doesn’t mean my clothes aren’t smart and fashionable.’ She did a little twirl and the soft fabric of her pretty swing top rose and fell.

‘Did you come here as a refugee too?’ Jade asked.

‘Nah! I’m second-generation Aussie. My grandparents came here from Karachi in the 1970s, but they weren’t the first Badoolas in Australia. My great-great-grandfather came here as a cameleer. He transported supplies between Kalgoorlie and Broken Hill.’

‘He was a Ghan?’ Tara said. ‘Wow!’ She and Jon had ridden the train named after the cameleers and she’d been fascinated by the story.

‘And he helped build the Perth Mosque, but he was sent home when the White Australia policy came in. I often wonder if he left behind any kids. I might have family in WA.’

‘You should do a DNA test at Ancestry.com,’ Tara suggested.

‘Great idea! I might get to freak out some Skips when they find out they have Muslim relatives,’ Fatima teased.

‘Or be surprised you have Aboriginal cousins,’ Tara said. ‘A lot of the Ghans married Aboriginal women.’

‘I think it would be awesome, but my grandparents would be horrified that great-grandfather Ameer hadn’t kept it in his Muslim pants.’

‘So Muslims don’t like mixed marriages?’ Jade asked.

‘Name me a faith that does. I know you hear all sorts of horrible things, but Islam is a religion of peace. But just like Christianity, there are some people who wilfully get it wrong. Mostly men.’

‘I’m not sure Christians go around blowing each other up,’ Tara said.

‘Northern Ireland anyone?’

Tara had no response to that except to ponder the role of men in wars.

Fatima smiled. ‘The world’s a complicated place. If you’re really interested, there’s a great collection of short essays called It’s Not About The Burqa. It’s written by young UK Muslim women and they talk about everything from feminism and sexuality to their faith in the western world. There’s no such thing as one Muslim woman. We’re as different as any group of women be they Christian, Jewish or atheist. The book says it way better than I ever could.’

Tara thought about Fiza, who seemed to have her own interpretation of her faith that worked for her. ‘It sounds interesting. If my book group read it, would you come along and give your perspective?’

Fatima cocked one very dark and well-shaped eyebrow. ‘Isn’t Kelly Kvant in your book group?’

Tara got the urge to both laugh and cringe at the same time. ‘I take your point, but as I’m hosting the next meeting, I get to pick the book.’

‘Well, if you’re sure you want to go there …’

‘I am. And I might invite Fiza. She’s Muslim too. Do you know her?’

Fatima shook her head. ‘I don’t know every Muslim in town, Tara, just like you don’t know every Christian.’

‘Right. Sorry. I guess me asking is like when we were in Greece and people found out we were from Australia—they’d say, “You know my brother, Costa? He lives in Sydney.” Have a great holiday, Fatima. I’ll talk to you when you get back.’

The gold embroidery on Fatima’s headscarf sparkled in the sun as she walked away. Tara turned back to Jade and realised she’d issued the invitation and completely ignored the younger woman.

‘If you’d like to come to book group too, Jade, you’re very welcome.’

Jade looked at her feet, clearly uncomfortable. With a jolt of understanding and regret, Tara realised Jade considered her old and out of touch, just like the teenagers at work did.

‘No pressure, but we could do with a younger woman’s perspective,’ she added. ‘And we’re pretty open. There was a lot of talk about sex when we discussed Anna Karenina.’

Jade’s head shot up, eyes shining. ‘I loved that book.’

Tara forced a smile, trying to forget how she’d used Anna as an excuse to put herself first. ‘I think I should re-read it and concentrate more on Kitty and Levin. What they lacked in excitement they made up for in commitment and understanding, don’t you think?’

‘I s’pose,’ Jade said half-heartedly.

Tara gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile. ‘You don’t have to agree with me. That’s the fun of book group. Everyone has a different opinion.’

Jade grimaced. ‘I’m not sure any bloke’s worth the risk of loving.’

Tara saw faint traces of what one day might become hard lines around Jade’s mouth. Combined with the antipathy in her voice, they spread a thin ribbon of melancholy through Tara. Jade was too young to be so defeatist.

Tara thought about herself at twenty. She’d been studying tourism at UTS, living in a share house in Annandale and spending her summers working on the ski fields in Whistler. Boyfriends had come and gone without too much heartache, although there’d been one stressful week living with a false positive pregnancy test after a two-week fling with a Canadian snowboarder. His reaction had been all about himself and nothing about Tara. How would her life have panned out if she’d had a baby then? The snowboarder wouldn’t have supported her. Would she and Jon even have met? Tara wondered about the father of Jade’s little boy.

‘Sometimes men let us down,’ she said.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘And as