Chapter 9
ManijehTehran
1991
It was Friday afternoon, time for Layla’s weekly riding
lesson, and Manijeh had driven her to the stables.
Manijeh rolled down the car window. “Shall I pick you
up later, azizam?”
Layla shifted the bag on her shoulder and dropped her
riding-hat. She bent, the bag swung and she picked up the hat. “It’s OK,
Maman. I’ll get a taxi,” she said, brushing dirt from the black
velvet.
Manijeh waited until the riding school gates opened and
Layla disappeared inside before driving away. She wished her daughter had
chosen a more ladylike hobby, like piano or ballet, but Layla insisted on
riding. She was a good girl, but could be stubborn and wilful. She reminded
Manijeh of herself when she was young.
Manijeh came to the turn-off for Shemiran. There was
ple
