I was going to be her crusader, herknight in shining armour.Only now at her mosque I realised I was lost. I had thought of women asinferior, I had th...ught of Islam as inferior. Allowing Mum to put thischador on me and to put makeup on my face had been an act of submission.In submission to my mother and her new found religion I now felt part ofsomething at last, I had felt wanted, I had felt part of a community butbanging round in your head as my story is being told to you is the factthat I. “Do you trust me? I have a surprise for you,” he said standing.For the first time since entering the house I noticed a tall male figure standing by the window.“Who is that?” I managed to gasp.“Maricella I’d like for you to meet Ian, Ian this is Maricella,”The man stepped forward and I gasped; he was built like a football player. At least six feet four inches tall, his shoulders broad, he had a head of thick auburn hair and bright green eyes. The smile etched on his face ever so slightly. More

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