’Nothing. Reaching a climax shouldn’t be the be-all and end-all.’
’I’ve decided not to hide anything. I don’t want to go back to being the person I used to be. I don’t care about my pride. You have to tell me why you stopped.’
’I’ve told you. It isn’t the most important thing to come each time.’
’Perhaps you don’t want to, but I do.’
’Sorry.’
Her feeling of humiliation was as great as her sorrow. Was nature having its revenge because she had gone against the course of her life and said no to motherhood, and to a husband and family and roots? How could she have been given a sense of taste after all these years, only to have her tongue ripped out? When she heard him whistling in the kitchen she found herself feeling her wetness with her eyes closed. She had not touched herself since being with him. She was unsure whether she wanted to come because it meant she wouldn’t need him any more, or because she wanted to provoke him. She tried to keep going even when she heard him walking back into the room and shouting, ’Jesus Christ!’ She opened her eyes, and it was her faint smile that made him completely lose his temper. ’You’re like an animal,’ he yelled in a fury. ’Stop it! Stop it!’
She stopped, put her clothes on and left. She felt like a different person. Her legs were trembling. It was as if she were walking along the street for the first time, and she did not look round although she knew he was up there on the second floor. Her eyes did not even stray to the window of the room where she had fallen asleep and woken up so many times. She looked at the junction box at the corner, and wondered if her voice would ever run along the phone wires again.
Nicholas put out a hand to Lamis who had just stopped a taxi. He bent to apologise to the driver.
Lamis walked along beside him in silence. On the bed he began removing her clothes very gently, bending down to pull off her tights, and she yielded to him without helping him. She did not even turn over on her back, but held whatever position he put her in, just like a rag doll. Calmly at first, then in an incredible frenzy, he undressed and threw his clothes on the floor.
’What do you want’ he whispered. ’Ask for anything you want.’
II
’Bahia had more than twenty slaughtered sheep delivered to Regent’s Park Mosque this morning for the Big Eid. The mosque has promised to distribute them to the poor and needy,’ Samir told Amira. ’Last month Bahia gave the mosque one thousand pounds, in cash, and when the Imam wanted to give her a receipt, Bahia wouldn’t tell him her name, she said, "An anonymous donor who loves charity." ’
Amira realised that Samir admired Bahia for having stayed anonymous. ’Bahia was afraid that if the Imam knew what she did for a living, he would refuse her donation,’ she said sarcastically. ’But tell me, Samir, did Nahid go to the mosque with Bahia?’
Samir ignored her question. He was trying to find room in Amira’s freezer for the lamb that he had taken to the butcher to be jointed after Nahid arranged for it to be sent to him from the mosque.
In return for a promise that Amira would find his brother a job in Saudi Arabia, a Moroccan who worked in an Arab estate agent’s allowed Samir and his family to stay in a flat rent-free. Nevertheless, Samir still spent most of the day and part of the evening at Amira’s - which pleased her - leaving only after she came home at night, when he headed out to a club, before returning to his family at dawn.
Amira had left so many messages on Nahid’s mobile phone, even singing her a voice mail: ’Visit me once a year ... don’t completely forget me’, and ’Make up with me today, we can be enemies tomorrow’, that she was beginning to lose hope. Nahid did not return her calls.
Apparently she wasn’t going to budge; she was still upset with Amira since their fight at Claridge’s.
The days when the two of them had been like sisters, quarrelling one minute, friends again the next, were gone. Nahid was getting on Amira’s nerves and Amira was losing patience. ’My patience went for a walk the other day, and hasn’t come back.’
A man Amira met at Claridge’s and whom she saw a second time, welcomed her suggestion that the Princess should spend a week with him at the hotel, giving her family the excuse that she’d gone to a health farm in the country, and he welcomed the idea that she bring Nahid, her indoors attendant, with her. The two women planned that Nahid would seduce the man when Amira left the hotel to go shopping. However, as soon as Nahid saw the spacious, beautiful, expensive hotel room, she found herself taking off her clothes, putting on her pyjamas, and luxuriating in the warmth of the hotel bed. She felt as if now she was really in the heart of London. Around her were the clean, glamorous streets and shops full of everything she could ever desire. She asked for and devoured everything room service could offer, especially the most expensive malt whisky. She sat on the bed and talked on the phone to Cairo for hours. She stayed in the hotel until the following evening, when Amira forced her out of the bed, helped her to dress and instructed Samir to call a black cab, ask for the room where the Princess was staying, and come and take Nahid home. They hadn’t spoken since. Amira was waiting for her friend to make the first move. Nahid was the one who behaved badly, disgraced her and nearly exposed her, but the news of Bahia and the mosque made her eager to talk to her friend - besides, she missed her, and the punishment had taken its toll.
Outside Nahid’s flat Amira knocked several times, although she was sure that even if Nahid was there, she wouldn’t open the door. All of a sudden she had an idea: she would buy return tickets for both of them, to Cairo. They would go on a short trip. Nahid could spend a few days with her family, and Amira a few days at the Mena House Hotel; she would ask for a room with a view of the pyramids, where the tiny birds came and ate from your palm. As Amira turned to leave and walked to the stairs, the door opened and a woman with her head muffled, wearing a long djellabah, stood in the doorway. For a moment Amira thought she must be looking at Nahid’s mother or sister, but it was Nahid herself. While Amira continued to stand there in astonishment, Nahid spoke out in her usual cheerful way.
’What’s wrong with you? Have you seen a snake? Come in, come in.’
’I thought you were still angry with me. What about you? Have you got earache? Are you ill, and you haven’t told me? I’ve been trying to get you on the phone for God knows how long.’
’No, I’ve decided to become a proper Muslim, thanks be to God. Tea or coffee? Did the cat get your tongue?’
’What happened, Nahid?’
’Nothing. The Prophet came and woke me from my sleep. To tell the truth, I was dead drunk and wanting to be more drunk. The pig I’d been with wouldn’t pay. He said I was always in too much of a hurry. Anyway, when I went back to the flat, I walked into the bathroom, thinking it was the bedroom.’
’Did he pay? Did the bastard pay?’
’Is that all that bothers you? You don’t change, Amira! I was banging the empty bottle against the bathroom wall, and then I felt the Prophet’s hand (peace be upon him) leading me into the bedroom, helping me into bed, and protecting me till morning.’
Nahid burst into tears.
She must have been trying to tell Amira something, getting drunk like that in the hotel, and being so short-tempered, yet Amira had not stretched out her hand to her friend. Instead, she’d been annoyed with her. Amira had screamed at her in Claridge’s, nearly hit her, made her stand for about half an hour with her head over the toilet so that she wouldn’t be sick over the beautiful carpet. Then, when she’d asked Samir to take Nahid away, Nahid had clutched at Amira as if she were drowning in her own dangerous ocean, pleading, ’Amira, don’t leave me, please. Please. I have nobody except you.’
’Does covering your head mean you can’t speak on the phone? Or aren’t you allowed to talk to sinners like me?’
’My situation’s changed. Anyway you’d be bored with me now. I go to the mosque and a woman comes to teach me about the Qur’an. Why don’t you try it?’
’God and I have an un
derstanding. But tell me, Nahid, what are you going to do with your fur coat?’
’Wear it, of course. See what stupid ideas people have! What’s a fur coat got to do with belief and repentance?’
’Nothing. I was just asking.’
Amira regretted her nastiness, her attempt to prove that her friend only cared for material things, and felt an overwhelming affection for Nahid, and yet she felt she couldn’t reach out to help her or have a heart-to-heart talk with her, or try to understand her. She shifted around uneasily, uncertain whether to stay or go. Suddenly the doorbell rang. Nahid glanced at her watch and opened the door to several women wearing headscarves. For a moment she seemed unsure of how to introduce Amira, then, without a flicker of a smile, she gestured towards Amira, ’My sister in the days of my jahiliyya, my ignorance.’ Then, indicating the other women to Amira, ’My sisters in Islam.’
Amira left the flat confident that Nahid would ring her that evening, and make her laugh, telling her all about her adventures with her sisters in Islam. One week went by, and there was no news from her - not even a telephone call to Samir. Nevertheless, Amira could not believe that she’d lost a friend; she decided that Nahid had finally found a wealthy punter who kept her very busy.
When another week went by and there was still no sign of Nahid - she had not been seen by Bahia or by her friends at the casino or by her former colleagues from the nightclub - Amira was determined to make contact. She went to Nahid’s flat with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a box of caviar, and two return tickets for them both, London-Cairo, along with some travellers’ cheques for Nahid.
Nahid opened the door without delay. Seeing Amira with the flowers, she threw herself on her friend, wailing, ’Your heart has guided you. I’m dying. I’m saying goodbye to the world.’
Seeing the shock on Amira’s face, Nahid pulled herself together and tried to be funny.
’The one that you and I fear the most came to me and said, since you are so scared of me, I’ve come - here I am - and now you don’t have to be scared of me any more.’
Amira hit herself on the face; she pulled her own hair, beat her chest, bit her fingers. All she could see was herself, pushing Nahid’s head over the toilet bowl so that she wouldn’t throw up on the floor of the Claridge’s bathroom.
The next day the two friends embraced and held each other for a long time. Amira had spent the night with Nahid, listening to her talk about her cancer. Who knew, the disease might sense the depth of their friendship, and bid Nahid farewell. Or maybe the Prophet, who gave Nahid peace of mind, would intervene with the Lord on her behalf. Amira held Nahid close to her, to show her how much she loved her, and to reassure her that she wasn’t scared of the cancer transferring itself to her. She wanted to be near it. To face it. She wanted to punish herself for not being sensitive enough to realise that there had been something the matter with her friend for months, even before she went on that trip to Dubai.
’Why didn’t you tell me, Nahid? Why?’
’I didn’t want to scare you.’
Amira assured Nahid that she was going to call by and see her that evening. Nahid asked her to come tomorrow, ’And if you’re busy tomorrow, never mind, you’re always with me.’ At the door Nahid joked with Amira, ’Now I know why you want to come this evening - so you can eat the caviar you brought for me.’
Amira laughed, but descending the stairs she cried and cried and cried.
III
When Lamis let herself into Nicholas’s flat one afternoon and noticed the flowers were not in their vases, her heart missed a beat. She made herself calm down. Julia the cleaner must have thrown them away. Julia didn’t like beauty; she complained about the yellow drizzle left by the stems of mimosa, was scared of the orange powder dropping out of lilies, which dyed the sofa and Nicholas’s shirts, and tossed out the twisted branches Lamis used to put in with the flowers. But Julia didn’t come on Wednesday.
Lamis went into the kitchen and realised that Nicholas must have thrown away the fresh flowers and left them to die a lingering death in a plastic rubbish bag. She hurried to examine them to see if there was some good reason, a lurking scorpion or a snake maybe, as sometimes happened in Najaf, and was shocked to see her jar of honey and her packet of tea in the rubbish too. She understood that this was a declaration of war, but then the sight of squeezed oranges, an empty tin of tuna and cut tomato ends comforted her slightly, surely someone who was about to go to war wouldn’t have had such a leisurely lunch? She hurried into the bedroom and there on the bed were her small suitcase and carrier bags standing upright like the three pyramids.
She opened them and saw all her things: her nightdress, slippers, toothbrush, perfume, even her nail file; the shirt she’d given him, a drawing, a vest. She collapsed on the bed in a state of shock, then walked round distractedly, unable to believe that he’d cast her out of his life just like that. She wondered if her mother-in-law had had a hand in it, but put the thought out of her mind, as she could imagine Nicholas’s scorn at her continuing obsession with the woman.
She did not know how much time passed before she hurried to the phone to try and contact him; then it was just like her nightmares, in which she tried to call and forgot Nicholas’s number, or the telephone had a hole in it and her voice dropped through and bounced on to the floor.
She tried his mobile and a recorded voice answered: ’I’m sorry. It’s been impossible to connect you. Please try later.’
She checked the messages on her own mobile in case Nicholas had left her a message, then she rang the number of his mobile again, without success, three, four, five, twenty-five times, and she let the voice of the operator go on and on until the phone shrieked like a fire engine. She tried to calm herself down. This was a black cloud that would pass. She had seen it with her mother and father who quarrelled a thousand times in one day.
She got up and took the packet of tea and the jar of honey out of the rubbish, made herself a cup of tea and forced herself to sip it, then took one of Nicholas’s vitamin pills as if it were a capsule of blood she was squirting into her veins. She returned her things to their proper places, humming a tune, then noticed a sketch in the rubbish bag. It was a drawing done by Nicholas of a woman’s face in profile, a cone-shaped cactus ending in a strange, almost terrifying, green flower with its mouth open greedily: a Venus flytrap.
She picked out the drawing and looked at it with a shock of recognition. It was her face. She froze; the woman stared back with a hard expression in her eyes. A man’s penis extended from her head round into her mouth and the face had swallowed most of it. Lamis threw the drawing down and ran out of the room, but it pursued her.
She collected the whole lot and returned them to the rubbish. She did not rip the drawing up. Instead she placed it in the middle of the bed, but the feeling of anger which had enveloped her quickly evaporated and she wondered if Nicholas had left her a message in her own flat. She hurried back there and when she saw the answering machine flashing her heart leaped and she rushed over to rewind it.
’Lamis, my love. Call me. It’s important.’ (Amira imitating an Iraqi accent.)
’Mrs Lamis. It’s the estate agent. I think I’ve found what you want. Please give me a call.’
’Mummy. Hi. Mummy, when the teacher found out that grandfather was from the Marshes, he asked me to write an essay about him. Do you think grandfather would write about his childhood, in Arabic of course, and you could translate it for me?’
Her son’s voice lingered on in the room. She dialled Amira’s number. As soon as Amira heard Lamis, she said, again in a mock Iraqi accent, ’Sweetheart. Will you come with me to Cambridge tomorrow?’
’Nicholas. He’s disappeared. He’s left me,’ said Lamis breathlessly.
’Perhaps he got drunk! Or he’s been taken ill. He couldn’t leave you. He told me once he was the happiest man on the face of the earth.’
’Did he really, Amira?’
’I swear, but do you think it’
s possible he’d leave you just like that, for no reason? You know best, I suppose. Why do you think he would?’
’It’s to do with us living together.’
’Because he loves you, and when an Englishman’s in love, he wants to get married, but when an Arab’s in love he marries someone else!’
’Why do I have to go through this?’
’Lamis, I’ll come and see you. Where are you?’
Lamis collected herself. ’No. Thanks, Amira. I’ll call you this evening.’
She called Nicholas’s mobile again, and then his flat, Anita’s, and left messages, Christie’s, Sotheby’s, Spinks, even India House. She called Oman. She thought of Nicholas’s mother, whose number was in her little phone book. She dialled and put the receiver down at the last digit. She ought to have looked to see whether the suitcase Nicholas usually took away with him was still in the flat. She really would find a flat for the two of them the next day. Also, she would tell Khalid at the weekend. That’s all it would take.
She climbed the stairs to Nicholas’s flat slowly. She wanted to take him by surprise. She would have to control herself, so she could say calmly to him, ’I was waiting for you. Why are you so late? I love you.’
She waited there for five days and the flat seemed to be waiting with her. Only after a week did she feel the crushing weight on her chest shifting slightly, but it left her diminished and yet fiercer, like a newly sharpened pencil.
She finally ventured out and went to visit Amira, who had decided to stop being a princess for a day, and was wearing her tight clothes that emphasised her breasts and stomach and bottom, and kept joking: ’You’ll always be able to find him, Lamis. He’s so lovely and tall! He’ll never be able to vanish into thin air!’
Lamis passed the time at Amira’s talking to Samir and trying to phone Nicholas again. Umm Kulthum was playing on the tape, and the monkey was hobbled in the corner with a nutcracker, where it was shelling hazelnuts and almonds, squeezing them with the nutcracker, breaking them, digging out the nuts and finally eating them, and scattering the shells on the floor. The sight of Amira and her broad smile as she weighed things up, clearly and realistically, inspired confidence in Lamis. Whenever she blamed herself for not having read a situation right, not bringing a certain logic to bear which, in retrospect, seemed so obvious, Amira interrupted her. ’Live a lot and you’ll see a lot. I’ve had the cares of the world on my shoulders since I was a child!’
Only in London Page 22
