Between Cups of Coffee

by Tajalli Keshavarz

  ‘How? I must think of Jane. She is still studying there.’

  ‘Nothing is impossible. You say it as if it is a big deal.’

  ‘It is easy for you to say. You don’t have any kids.’

  So, it was the old argument, I have heard it hundred times: ‘You cannot understand,’ ‘you don’t understand the situation, you are a lucky man.’ And while they say this, they look at me as an unfulfilled man while they are jealous of my situation. The only one who could understand me was Kate. Of course with Fiona’s state of mind, there was no point in telling her not to feel a martyr. The discussion was fit for me and Kate only.

  The conference bags were a nuisance. Fiona had her own bag too.

  ‘I can see you aren’t enjoying your parcel! Perhaps we’d better go back to the hotel.’ I said.

  ‘I thought you would never ask! By the way, are you ready for your talk or do you need to spend some time with your slides? It is tomorrow morning, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is tomorrow morning but I don’t need to practise.’

  ‘Good. I was beginning to feel sorry for the old man with his slides! So you don’t need help.’

  ‘Who said that? Even the most competent man is in need of help from a friend!’

  ‘Don’t worry; I am a charitable woman when necessary. I am in search of the ultimate charitable act though.’

  I looked at her thin pink shirt with open buttons. ‘I can see the potential for charity to begin at home!’

  We went straight to the bar of the hotel. Coming from outside, the bar was dark and there was no one there. I rang for the barman. We had a couple of liqueurs and went up.

  Fiona’s room was somehow larger than mine, though marginally. She hadn’t unpacked. Her small suitcase was sitting in the corner. She put the bags down. I went to the large windows overlooking the crowded street eight floors down. I looked at the serpentine of jammed cars. As I turned around she was standing in the middle of the room smiling. Her lips were sweet with remains of the liqueur and her body still had the warmth of the sun outside.

  47

  I had my talk just before coffee time and now I was in the long queue for coffee. Fiona was talking with a group ahead of me. This young boy came towards me. ‘Your talk was interesting,’ he said.

  I laughed: ‘Oh, that was the idea. I tried!’

  ‘I was wondering though. You don’t have much respect for scientists do you?’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘You are a scientist but you don’t have much respect for us. I am still baffled how you could compare us to the pastors of the church.’

  ‘I thought I explained why. In any case, being compared to a priest is not that much of a sign of disrespect.’

  ‘For me it is!’

  ‘Sorry to have offended you. I suppose there are priests out there who will be offended if they hear they have been compared to scientists.’

  ‘That’s their problem. But it all depends on how you look at it.’

  ‘Exactly! I thought it was quite simple. We, as scientists, have assigned ourselves goals, rights and wrongs, and routes to achieve the goals. As far as I am concerned, this is a religious approach to science,’ I said.

  ‘But this is for scientific enquiry.’

  ‘Not at all, this kills the spirit of investigation. A real scientist goes for an unending search. He doesn’t know what he might achieve. He guesses some things and hopes for others but cannot prejudge the results. And results are part of the search. But nowadays whenever you want to submit a proposal, you have to take into account the goal, the deliverables of the project, the milestones of the investigation, its so-called timeliness, together with a long list of dos and don’ts. Our churches are our campuses.’

  ‘But science has created so much for humanity and religion has taken so much away. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Sure. But religion has given a lot too. Look at the great architecture of churches and cathedrals; look at the paintings, sculptures, the list is very long indeed.’

  ‘All wars are because of religion.’

  ‘And science is innocent? I can’t believe that you don’t see the damage, destruction and death all around us being inflicted on us under the good offices of science!’

  I saw Fiona coming over smiling:

  ‘That was a good one. You like to be controversial don’t you?’

  ‘Apparently I’ve been successful in that. This gentleman thinks I’ve been unfair to the scientists.’

  ‘You mean the boring lot? It is a favour to humanity to be unfair to them.’

  ‘I suppose you are a scientist yourself,’ the boy said.

  ‘They say I am. They have even given me classes to teach, but I deny it all. This is a terrible accusation taking me for a scientist. But I have lived with it. I think there has been a serious mistake somewhere in the registry,’ Fiona said laughing.

  The boy was now in a hurry to get his coffee and go.

  Fiona said, ‘what was that? Do you have to collect boring people around you?’

  ‘Not always. Sometimes impostors infiltrate as scientists!’

  We took our coffees and went towards a long narrow shelf near a tall glass window.

  Malcolm came over. He had a couple of fingers in his colourful light waistcoat which had curved over his belly.

  ‘Interesting one! I am sure you have found yourself at least a couple of pen pals. You will receive some hate mail.’

  ‘Fame at last! But if they disagree, then they should have some respect for their own ideas and not send hate mail just because they are threatened by the opinions of the others.’

  ‘Scientists are opinionated.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I was trying to convey. They don’t consider seriously other opinions on a common matter. The moment they see something remotely different from their ideas, they start opposing it, they start finding faults in it with the ultimate aim of rubbishing it.’

  ‘And that is fun!’ Fiona said.

  The bell rang and people started going back to the lecture hall. Malcolm started talking to someone.

  ‘I don’t think I will go to this one. Do you?’ I asked Fiona.

  ‘Do you want someone to bother you as you walk in the park enjoying the sun?’ said Fiona.

  ‘Oh, that is the only wish I have now.’

  We walked slowly to the park along a narrow road with lawn on both sides.

  I said: ‘I saw a bird once in a cage. The door to the cage was open. I waited for a long time. The bird flew away in short flights, but eventually it went back into the cage. Our scientists are like that I thought.’

  ‘Don’t be too severe. You have finished your talk. Now, it is the time for fun.’

  She took my hand. Her hand was cold.

  ‘Do you always have cold hands?’

  ‘Most of the time when I try to avoid serious talks! I have been serious enough in my life. Now, at forty-five, I want to avoid being serious. It is not worth my while. It makes more sense not to spend time on serious matters as much as one can.’

  The flowers in the garden were already wilting under the midday sun.

  ‘Some chilled beer is a necessity.’ I said.

  ‘Necessity?’ she said, ‘I would say vital!’

  We didn’t need to go far. We went into a small café on our way. Three local men were standing at the counter drinking tea.

  Fiona sat across the small table. Thin lips, sharp eyes with corners up, small bony face, dark hair short of reaching her shoulders. I was waiting for her to say something. But we were both silent and remained silent until the waiter brought the beer.

  ‘Do you drink much?’ she asked.

  ‘It depends on what you consider to be much.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you make an issue of everything. This is a simple, innocent question.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What do you mean yes?’

  I started laughing. ‘Well I answered your simple question. I drink a lot.’
r />   ‘You don’t look it.’

  ‘I will drink even more if this conversation continues the way it does.’

  ‘Boy, we are touchy today.’

  ‘No I am not. Just trying to answer your question honestly and you don’t want to hear it.’

  ‘This is not a court. I promise you I won’t hold it against you now.’

  I wasn’t sure if she was getting into that joking mood.

  ‘I love it if you do, here and now!’

  She ignored me. I thought it was a cheap try. I was glad that the beer was starting to have some effect.

  ‘I thought you talked very well but it was irrelevant to the audience,’ she said.

  ‘So it was a failure.’

  ‘Yes, but for them. You really expect a lot from your audience. These people are there to be praised, to hear what an important role they play in the well-being of society as scientists. They don’t want to be compared to rigid priests. And you told them exactly that.’

  ‘So I should have said something I didn’t believe in?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So I shouldn’t have come?’

  ‘Then you would have lost the pleasure of my company,’ she laughed.

  I asked for more drinks.

  ‘Listen, you can give a talk without trying to be controversial.’

  ‘But I didn’t try.’

  ‘Yes, I should know. It is in your blood.’

  I took her hand. ‘We should enjoy this moment.’

  ‘We are, well, I am.’

  We finished the second large beer and walked to the hotel. I liked the sharp contrast of the room with the outside. It was cool inside. Fiona drew the double curtains. There was a sense of losing yourself in the darkness. There was a sharp but small ray of light through the middle of the curtains. I could see her skin, the small body, the pause.

  ‘Are you philosophising?’ She was jolly now.

  I did not answer. I was thinking of how it would have been if Kate was there. What she would have thought about my talk, what would we have discussed over the beer, and how would it be now.

  I stretched my hand to reach her skin. She came over. We were silent throughout.

  48

  The gala dinner was crowded. It was as if all participants had registered for it. Round tables, white table-cloths, bottles of wine, one white and one red already on the tables; we all arrived in coaches. The dinner was held in this old palace, now in the hands of the ministry of Science and Higher Education for special occasions. Before the dinner, we had drinks and aperitifs in the gardens. We queued in two long rows. Fiona was talking to a couple of people behind us.

  ‘It’s lovely here isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, marvellous. We couldn’t ask for better. We’ve come a long way and this is really like a holiday for us.’

  They started introducing themselves. I wasn’t really interested. I made myself busy with the person in front, a serious man in his 30s, with a small dark blue tie and a navy suit.

  ‘So what is your interest in this conference?’

  ‘I am an archaeologist but am interested in human behaviour now and its effects on society in comparison to old societies, more specifically those of 1000 to 1500 years ago.’

  ‘Any particular society?’

  ‘Not really. I look at them in general terms actually, it is interesting to look at the geographical issues as well but that is an exhausted topic.’

  ‘And how have you found this conference so far?’

  ‘It’s OK. Hoped to hear something new, something more challenging.’ He didn’t ask me about my interest and I left it at that. I was interested in his research area but not in him. One of those things, you get a very exciting collaborative project and you end up with people you find difficult to work with, just because you don’t like their tie, or their way of moving their hands, or something like that, let alone their attitude, their views.

  ‘Glass of champagne please.’ I was at the long table. I took my glass and moved towards the gravelled area, away from the crowd. Fiona came over.

  ‘It’s OK isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Good choice of venue.’

  ‘It is 18th century. I am sure they used to enjoy themselves in this garden, more than once...a routine matter!’ she said.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Yes, I can feel it!’

  ‘I am glad you are here. It would’ve been pretty dull.’

  ‘Pleasure is all mine! It is a holiday for me, being away from that structure. Just for a short break. Talking about that, I’d better see what Jane is doing, sorry.’

  She walked a little further towards the trees and dialled her mobile. There was a nice breeze with the smell of a flower I couldn’t place. It was dark now. A girl came over with a tray of bits and pieces. I took one.

  ‘Do you like it working here?’ I asked her.

  ‘I do not work.’ She spoke with an attractive accent.

  ‘So, what do you do? Are you a lady of leisure?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘What do you do then?’

  ‘I study.’

  ‘Oh, what do you study?’

  ‘Tourism.’

  ‘That should be fun.’

  ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘You don’t seem to like it.’

  ‘I like, my boyfriend not,’ She smiled.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Want me work only.’

  ‘Ah, what does he do then?’

  ‘He study too.’

  ‘Tourism?’

  ‘No. Computers.’

  Someone came over to take savouries. I smiled and moved back. Fiona was having a heated conversation on the phone. She put the phone in her bag and came over.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know why I bother.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She tells me she wants to go and stay with her boyfriend for a couple of days.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘What do you mean? She is too young for that.’

  ‘Is it OK if her boyfriend goes to her?’

  ‘Surely not.’

  ‘But it is irrelevant whatever you say. They are seeing each other, both at your place and at his place, you can be sure of that.’

  ‘Thank you for the support.’

  ‘You don’t need to let it get to you. They are young and this is part of their activity, part of their life.’

  ‘Some life! Easy for you to say. She is my daughter you know! I am responsible for her.’

  ‘Yes, but you are not her prison warder!’

  ‘What a thing to say.’

  ‘She just asked you because she wants to have your support. You can help her that way rather than behaving like an opponent.’

  ‘You mean thoughtless.’

  I laughed, ‘would I say that?’

  ‘You have already said it.’

  ‘So what? I want you to be happy at this moment and happy with your daughter. She does what she wants to do. It’s just that you make her feel guilty, she does it anyway, she feels more guilty, eventually she can’t cope with the secrecy so she does something for you to find out by yourself, there will be an almighty fight, after which she convinces herself that you cannot be part of her life and you convince yourself that she is no good and why bother. There will be a hurt-ridden truce.’

  Another girl came with a tray of drinks. Fiona took one. My glass was still full. The guests started to move to the dining hall. I took her hand. It was cold and bony. The hall was bright with the chandelier lights.

  We sat at a table with a chubby bald man, perhaps in his 60s, on the other side of Fiona. A young tiny man with a pale face was at my other side. He was talking with the girl next to him.

  I introduced myself and Fiona to the chubby man. His face was red and he spoke in short sentences. ‘Absolutely gorgeous weather,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, and a good conference too,’ I said.

  He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t go that far my boy.’

  I wasn’t su
re if I was happy to be called his boy.

  ‘I take it as a compliment. Although I am young at heart, you are right there!’

  ‘Anyone in this conference is young compared with me but their ideas are older than me. Nothing new.’

  ‘Did you go to my talk?’

  ‘I don’t think so. What was it about?’

  Fiona said, ‘David thinks scientists today are not much different from priests... only their books...their terminologies are different and their place of work.’

  ‘Good one. They have different outfits too,’ he laughed, ‘so he thinks highly of them!’

  ‘It depends on your views on religion,’ I said.

  ‘Not really, the fact that you think scientists are anything, you have placed them highly. What does this bunch of good-for-nothings do?’ He laughed again and had a sip of the wine. He had no grudge, he was just merry.

  ‘You don’t consider us as scientists of course,’ Fiona said, intrigued.

  ‘Well, I am testing! If you take offence at what I said, then you are a scientist, you have proved to be a scientist, and so I was right and I don’t care if you were upset! If you see my point and find it amusing, then we have a rapport and we will enjoy the dinner together!’

  I said, ‘how about having the dinner and seeing what we are by the end of it?’

  ‘Challenge eh? Fine by me. What about the young lady?’

  ‘Anything for a good laugh!’ Fiona said.

  ‘We are on then,’ he said, and poured us some white wine.

  ‘So how long have you two been married?’

  Fiona laughed. ‘I don’t marry people who don’t have faith in the church!’

  ‘And I don’t marry those who don’t believe in science,’ I said.

  ‘So I am safe either way here, I knew I had positioned myself in the right place! But what do you do if you are not busy being married?’ he said.

  ‘Are you married?’ Fiona asked.

  ‘Do I look it?’

  Fiona was getting fidgety, ‘I don’t know, you could be.’

  ‘I am the proud father of two girls and grandfather of one.’

  ‘So what have you taught your daughters?’

  ‘Not to take anything seriously!’

  ‘Can anything proper happen in this demoralised world of ours if one was not serious?’ I asked.