The World Unseen
Copyright 2001 Shamim Sarif
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For Hanan , who has given passion to my life, clarity to my thoughts and a voice to my words. With immense gratitude and infinite love.
Pretoria – April 1952
Even lying on the roof, with only the cheap slates in her line of vision, she could tell that it was a police car. There was a carelessness in the skid of the tyres over the sandy road, and in the way the handbrake was pulled up while the wheels were still turning, leaving a slight screech hanging in the heavy air. She stopped hammering, and peered over the edge of the eaves. They had parked so close to the restaurant door that they had broken one of the flowerpots that Jacob had planted only the day before.