Iqbal was being ridiculous but if she was going to persuade him to change his mind, she must stay calm. She really didn’t want it to turn into a major row. She took a deep breath, which ended on a yawn. Too tired for one thing.
Maybe she should agree to Iqbal’s suggestion and employ a girl from the village to help with the housework? She’d always refused, telling him she’d feel uncomfortable having someone working in the house. She didn’t admit to him she hated the idea of people thinking the foreign wife needed help to run her home, couldn’t cope with hard work. Bad enough they knew she couldn’t spin wool – or milk a goat.
That bloody-minded animal, feeling her first tentative touch, had looked knowingly over its shoulder at her with its nasty, wrong-way-round eyes and walked away. Tightening her grip only made the goat go…
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Judith Barrow 
Appreciate you sharing this, Judith. Thank you.
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Had a lovely writing day today, Mary. Only just caught up
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I had a non-writing day. But I did write yesterday so not feeling too guilty. 🙂
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We authors feel guilty whatever we do, Mary.Jx
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Nice to see Mary’s excerpt making the rounds. 🙂 xo
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Isn’t it just, Debby. A great excerpt as well!Jx
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Very nice blog
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Thank you
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