CHAPTER 6   The Boeing alighted gently and taxied to a halt, at Teheran airport.  Julie felt the pressure of Aga’s hand on her arm. “You’re not nervous I hope,” he said. “Is there reason to be?” But Aga was already steering her towards the large crowd that had gathered to meet them.  They welcomed him with great enthusiasm, but paid scant attention to her.  Julie began to feel uncomfortable. “How strange!” she thought, “What a reception for a new bride!  They don’t seem to care about me.  As though I were another piece of Aga’s baggage.” The only thing that kept her from bursting into tears was that Aga never let go of her arm. “It will be all right,” she consoled herself. A chauffeur in a stiff white uniform escorted them to the car.  It took only ten minutes to arrive at the Khaleeli Mansion.  Julie had never seen anything like this before.  It was like a palace fit for Royalty.  A puny little man and a fat woman, who looked unmistakably like Aga, came out to greet them.  There were no hugs and kisses for the bride.  Only a casual nod towards her, when Aga introduced Julie as his wife.  Was it a smirk she detected on the old lady’s face?  A mischievous twinkle in the man’s eyes?  Then his mother was smothering her son in her large embrace, and holding him to her bosom.  They blabbered excitedly in Farsi, and Julie felt lost. At last, after what seemed an age, they moved indoors. Two girls appeared on the scene. “Honey, they’ll show you to your rooms,” Aga said. Then seeing her crestfallen face he said, “I’ll come with you.” His mother glared angrily after him. Aga led her to one end of the palatial building.  A suite of rooms was ready for her.  The interior was done up in shell-pink distemper, and sleek modern furniture was tastefully arranged around the room.   There were fresh roses in tall vases, and a pleasant perfume pervaded the air.  It would have made any girl swoon with happiness, but Julie felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “Darling,” Aga whispered, “This is all yours.  Do as I tell you and you’ll be happy.  These  maids will look after your every need.”   Julie had a nice warm bath, then having nothing else to do, she decided to take a nap.  She settled on the soft springy bed. A pile of magazines was placed at her bedside.  She took one from the rack, and turned the pages idly.  She recalled the cold reception she had received. “They took no pains to hide their animosity,” she thought, “And yet, what a golden cage for an unwanted bride!” She fell into a deep sleep, and woke up only in time for dinner. One of the girls brought in her food on a platter.  It had crisp grilled chicken, and Barbary bread, fried rice, and a tempting dessert. “Why have you brought my food here?  I can go to the dining room.  Take it back.  I’ll get dressed in a minute.” The girl lowered her gaze and said timidly, “Khanum, the mistress has ordered it.  They have already finished their dinner.” “Where is my husband?  Has he eaten too?” “Yes Khanum, with his parents.” Julie could scarcely control her emotions. The frustrations of the day poured out in tears. “Please don’t take things to heart.  The mistress is a very difficult person to get along with.  It will soon be all right.” The platter of food remained untouched. “Eat a little,” coaxed the girl. “Take it away,” Julie said irritably, “I want to see my husband.” It was well past midnight when Aga crept into her room.  He took her sobbing trembling body in his arms. “Why are you crying, my Love?  I am here.” “So you must stealthily creep into your wife’s room like a thief?” she asked between sobs. “Why didn’t you eat your food today?” “I was not hungry, and I don’t like eating alone.” “My darling, I know how you feel. But this is a different country.  We can save a lot of heartaches, if only you’ll try to understand.  My mother is a very orthodox lady.  She believes that this marriage is not exactly binding.  According to her, a Muslim is allowed several wives.  You are just one of them.  You are to be given all the comforts you desire, but the status of wife and mistress must go to the Muslim wife.” “For Goodness sake, why didn’t you tell me all this before we were married.  You mean you are going to marry again and commit bigamy?” “It is permitted according to our religion,” he said stubbornly. “You know I’m a staunch Catholic.  Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan?” “Because I love you, and nothing will alter that.  My mother can force me into another marriage, but she can’t make me love another.  If you love me just a little, you won’t make life difficult for me,” he pleaded.  He held her close, and kissed her tenderly, giving no room for her to protest. “Tomorrow, I’ll have to attend to the business.  My father has just recovered from a heart attack, and is advised rest.  We have the largest chain of cloth stores all over Iran.  Our head office in the city is a vast affair, and there’s plenty of work that needs catching up.  I’ll return only in the evening.  I hope you won’t feel too lonely, my Love.”                                    To be continued…..