Kalila nodded her agreement and we made our way across the fresh bed of scorched leaves lying all around. Once we were settled into a casual stride, I glanced across at her.
‘To answer your question, I really don’t know how long I have. The doctors can’t tell me exactly, but they say the descent is imminent.’
I already hated myself for lying to her, but when she turned to look at me and I saw the heartfelt sorrow in those deep, dark eyes, it took every ounce of effort to stop myself from confessing.
‘I am so sorry, Felix,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘That’s the most frustrating thing. All they can tell me is that it’s some neurological disease brought on by undue amounts of stress.’
‘Oh dear god, no.’
I turned away. This was getting way out of hand. We’d be discussing flowers and funeral music next.
I lit a cigarette. To my astonishment, as I was about to put them away, Kalila held out a hand.
‘You smoke?’ I stammered.
She nodded and pulled one from the pack. ‘I am allowed to, you know.’
‘I know, but I didn’t expect–’
‘What? For me to have grown up?’
‘I suppose.’
We paused for a moment, allowing Kalila to stoop over the flame in my cupped hands.
‘We’ve all changed, Felix,’ she said, leaning back and exhaling. The wind carried the smoke away the instant it left her thick lips, making it look like she was puckering them for a kiss. At least, that’s what I thought. My response almost betrayed me.
‘You don’t look very different.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘Not really…’
You’re still the most beautiful creature that ever walked on the face of this rancid planet.
‘…I mean, I kind’ve liked your hair curly, but it really suits you straight. Makes you look – what’s the word? – proficient.’
She smiled. ‘That’s because I am, Felix. And I’m sorry to be the one that breaks the news to you, but the perm went out of fashion some time ago.’
‘Did it?’ I feigned surprise, grateful of the opportunity to lighten the mood. My only fear was that my chirpiness might come across as a dying man’s martyrdom.
‘What about me?’ I asked. ‘Do I still remind you of a seventeen year old boy – sorry – man?’
Kalila smirked and answered me without looking. ‘Well, obviously I can’t see under all of those clothes–’
‘Much as you’d like to.’
‘Yes, well, how should I say? It looks as though you might’ve gained a little weight.’ She pinched her fingers together sarcastically.
‘Yeah,’ I replied, ‘perhaps just a little, but then haven’t we all?’
I looked her up and down and then corrected myself.
‘OK, so you’ve not, but you know how it is for a man; you sow your seed and then you go to seed.’
That made Kalila smile. ‘So you have children?’
‘A girl, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.’
That was no act. For the first time since this whole incident began, it actually hurt me to think of Amelie.
‘Of course,’ Kalila said politely. ‘It must be difficult, I’m sorry.’
Moving swiftly on. ‘What about you? You’ve got a couple of kids, right?’
She tucked a loose wisp of hair behind an ear and looked away before she replied. ‘Me? Kids? God, no.’
‘But I thought you were on your way to pick some up?’
‘My cousins.’ I could see she was not entirely happy about the situation.
‘You never wanted any of your own?’
In any normal conversation a question like that might be deemed too direct, but this meeting had a very limited lifespan - just like one of its members - and in my mind that meant no subject was taboo. Kalila seemed to appreciate this and answered candidly. ‘It’s not possible, I’m afraid.’ She smiled bravely.
So, how much do you hate yourself now?
‘Jesus, Kal, I’m so sorry.’
‘That’s OK, I have the boys, they keep me busy.’
‘And you can always give them back after a few hours. I bet your husband’s glad of that.’
‘I never married, Felix.’
‘Really?’
A tinder of hope caught fire. Now, if I could only shift this terminal brain disease…
‘No, I never seemed to have the chance.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
Kalila ignored the compliment. ‘But you’re married, aren’t you?’
‘Do you think I’d dress like this if I was single?’
She laughed and glanced across at the bandstand where a few people had taken refuge from the weather. The smile disappeared though when she looked back and saw two armed soldiers approaching us.
‘Come on,’ she said, pulling me from the road. ‘Let’s go this way. I have no intention of being around loaded guns if I can help it.’
The path she steered me onto took us away from the crown of trees: a long uncovered strip of tarmac stretching over the Parade Grounds and back out towards Speakers’ Corner.
The rain had almost stopped but with no trees for protection, we suddenly found ourselves alone and exposed against the elements. I lifted my collar. Moved a little closer.
‘So you saw Paul recently?’ Kalila asked. She dropped her cigarette in the mud. ‘He doesn’t change, does he?’
‘Unfortunately not. He seems to be getting worse. Still, it was a stroke of luck that he knew your boss.’
Kalila displayed no emotion, instead reaching inside her handbag for another cigarette. There was more than an inch left on mine.
‘The two of them did some business recently,’ she said. ‘Darwish arranged a couple of units for him.’
I thought about her answer for a few seconds before a flash of insight stopped me dead in my tracks.
‘Hold on a second. A couple of units? You don’t mean that pair of eastern blockheads he’s got working for him, do you? Boris and Doris?’
Kalila stopped a few paces ahead of me, her body turned away slightly to protect her lighter flame. I noticed a deep line had formed between her perfectly manicured eyebrows.
‘Is that what he does, your boss?’ I asked, half joking. ‘Is that what you do now? People smuggling?’
The words made Kalila turn and face me fully. She waved her cigarette in my direction.
‘Darwish arranges transportation for refugees and political exiles. It is not people smuggling, human trafficking or anything else, you understand? It is a perfectly legitimate operation.’
I’d never seen her so animated. To provoke such a reaction would have been impossible before. She wouldn’t have given me the satisfaction. A goddess she might be, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to get one over on her.
‘Come on, who are you trying to kid? It’s the modern equivalent of slave trading. And to think, I always thought you went on to become some kind of high flying lawyer.’
With my knack of finding exposed nerves, I should’ve been a dentist. Kalila charged back at me, the muscles of her thin neck straining.
‘And so I am, I work in permanent practice for the family. That’s how I know that it’s all perfectly legal.’
She seemed to take comfort in the credibility of her statement and the calm, self-assured air returned. Without another glance, she turned her back on me and walked on alone. I had to run to catch up.
‘Hey, chill out. No offence intended, Kal. It’s just that I never expected you to end up involved in something like that. You were always too…’
‘Too what? Special?’
‘Well, yeah, I suppose that’s as good a word as any.’
Her lips tightened for a split second. ‘It can be difficult living up to another person’s expectations, especially when they place you on such a lofty pedestal. Still, I don’t suppose you
ever suffered from that kind of vertigo, eh, Felix?’
She tilted her head back and looked down her nose at me. I laughed hard.
‘No, I don’t suppose I have.’ It was good to feel those claws sticking in me again after all this time.
We carried on for a few more paces. Then she stopped walking. I looked back and saw a steely glare on her face.
‘Why all these questions about my employer, Felix? You’re not wired by any chance?’
‘Wired? No, that should’ve worn off ages ago.’ I closed my eyes and cringed.
‘So you were high when you called me earlier?’
‘No, not really. I just–’
‘Forget it, Felix, it’s not like it’s going to do any harm now, is it? We all do things that we’re not proud of. Anyway, what do you do for a living that is so honourable?’
‘Me? I work in marketing.’
‘Marketing?’ she said in amazement. ‘You bloody hypocrite, you’re in no position to criticise anyone.’
I had to give her that one.
‘I know but it rules the world nowadays, doesn’t it?’
‘Does it? And there was me thinking that economics made the world turn. You know: supply and demand. Fundamental concepts like that.’
I ignored the sarcasm. ‘Who do you think creates the demand? Last time I checked, Poptarts and abdominisers were not an essential part of twenty first century existence. And they’re not isolated cases, either. There’s always someone bullshitting you into taking on more crap – most of which you don’t need and can’t afford. Cars, drugs, charities, businesses, governments – even people, right?’
Kalila frowned a warning.
‘Hey, don’t look at me like that. I don’t like it any more than you, but you can’t deny that everything has a price.’
She shrugged. ‘And it was your slavish devotion to this cheerful ideology that caused all the stress in your life, was it?’
‘I don’t think it helped. My business is renowned for its burnout rate.’
‘So why go into it in the first place?’
‘Ambition will make a man do a lot of crazy things. To be honest, when it came to choosing a career I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. All I knew was that I’d rather be one of the shepherds than the sheep.’
‘And it didn’t work?’
‘Not really. As soon as I left university and joined the real world I realised that we’re all sheep of one breed or another.’
‘Hold on, hold on.’ Kalila made no attempt to hide the surprise or admiration in her voice.
‘You went to university?’
I’d waited a long time to drop that into the conversation. Her reaction was exactly what I always hoped it would be.
‘Yeah, try not to sound so shocked about it.’
‘Sorry, I’m not, but it’s just that, even if it was the most worthless subject on the academic roster, you’re the last person I ever thought would go on to study.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Well, I never really thought the whole teacher/student dynamic worked for you. Part of that authority complex you suffered from.’
I rubbed the back of my head guiltily. ‘I’m afraid that’s a cross I still bear.’
‘Did you ever think that’s maybe why you found working life so stressful?’
‘Partly, but it’s not just that.’
Kalila looked inquisitively at me.
‘How can I explain it?’ I needed to think for a second before answering. ‘You know those working dogs that they keep on farms?’
‘Border collies?’
‘Yeah, they’re the fellas. I read somewhere that they need to run at least ten miles a day to prevent them from going bonkers. They literally go insane unless they burn off their nervous energy.’
‘And your point is?’
‘My point is that whenever I was at work, I used to feel like one of those dogs. Only I was locked inside a cupboard. Do you know what I mean?’
I searched for a sign she understood, but Kalila simply looked bewildered.
‘Not really, Felix. It’s very different for me, I’ve always worked for my family and so I’ve never had to worry about motivation.’
She glanced at her watch again. I was losing her.
‘Speaking of which, Ahmed will be here soon. We’d better head back.’
We reached one of the intersections that lie dotted throughout the Parade Ground, then turned and walked back towards our starting point. Our time was nearly at an end. I needed to bring the conversation back around somehow.
‘So you never worked for anyone else?’ I asked.
‘My family is my life. My family is my duty.’ Kalila spoke the words like a mantra. ‘They always have been Felix, even when I was at school.’
I made like I understood, then changed the subject to one I hoped would make her a little more pliable.
‘Do you ever miss it?’
‘What, school? Not at all, I moved on.’
‘Of course. We all did.’
Kalila scoffed. ‘Right, it looks like it.’
‘Well, I might have lost my way for a while, but that’s hardly surprising, is it? It was a good time.’ I deliberately looked over at her.
‘I miss it.’
Kalila’s eyes flickered a little in my direction. She could feel my gaze but was refusing to reciprocate any feeling.
‘Felix, how can you miss something that you rarely experienced?
‘Very funny, I was a bit of a prat back then, but weren’t we all?’
‘Some more than others.’
She was trying to provoke me into a fight. Safe territory for someone with her training.
‘I wasn’t that bad.’
‘You were a pain in the… in the backside. I mean, even the teachers hated you. They used to encourage the other kids to beat you up.’
Gotcha.
‘You mean when they weren’t doing it themselves.’
Her face dropped when she realised what she had said.
‘Oh, Felix, I’m sorry, I’d forgotten all about that incident with Mr. Hull. That was awful.’ I graciously waved away her sentiments. She touched my arm.
‘You do know that you could still sue him for what he did that day – assuming he’s still alive, of course.’
I smiled. ‘Only if you promise to represent me.’
She raised her eyes to the sky.
‘Don’t worry, Kal. That wasn’t the most traumatic thing that happened to me as a teenager.’
She looked away in shame.
Now’s your chance. Ask her.
‘I’ve got a serious question for you. Something that’s been bugging me for years.’
‘Go on,’ she replied cautiously.
Go on.
‘Was I the reason that your family sent you back to Iran?’
‘Sent me back to–? Felix, where did you get that idea from?’
‘From a guy I met at your house, the weekend before you left. Your brother, I guess.’
‘Felix, I don’t have a brother, and I’ve never even been to Iran. We moved here so that we could develop the family business.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, there was a big opportunity in the city and so we took it. Not only that, London was a far better place for me to study Law. But we’re re-treading old ground here, I explained all this in my letter.’
The walking stopped again. Everything stopped.
‘Letter? What letter?’
At first Kalila thought that I was cracking wise again and started to smile. But when she saw how serious my face was she closed her eyes.
‘You never received it?’
I shook my head, too choked to reply. I clutched my wet hair with both hands.
‘I knew it. I fucking knew it.’ Walking backwards, I turned to face her. I needed to see her face for this one. ‘Tell me, Kal, do you ever wonder how life could’ve been for you and me? Y’know, if things had turned out the way they
were meant to?’
She looked at me in dismay.
‘But things did turn out the way they were meant to, Felix. Do you not see that.’
‘No, I’m not so sure. We had something – you and me – and now I’m older I can see that it was important. You know what I am talking about, don’t you? Don’t look away, I know you do. You loved me once.’
Kalila couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘Love? Is that what you think? Do you actually think we were in love?’
I didn’t get a chance to respond.
‘Look, I’m sorry about your health problems, Felix, and maybe it would be kinder for me to lie to you right now, but that just goes against my nature. You need to hear this. I never loved you, Felix. Never.’
She must have notice my downturned face, because her tone suddenly became more compassionate.
‘I’m sorry, Felix, but I never did. We were a couple of kids. We never even slept together, so how could there have been something between us?’
I shrugged off her question. For me, “No” has always been the sexiest word in the English language, but this rejection was proving difficult to digest.
We passed back under the line of trees and the world became a temporarily darker place. To our left the brass gates loomed large, like an ornate finishing line to a race I didn’t ever want to end.
I slowed the pace down slightly. Took a deep breath.
‘Listen, I’ve no intention of being melodramatic, Kal, but in the circumstances you’ll have to forgive me if I get a little sentimental. You see, I’ve almost reached the end of my life and when I look back at it now, it feels like a fantastic book I read too quickly. I can tell you roughly what’s happened, and I might even be able to describe the odd scene or two, but that’s about all I can remember. So many of the details are blurred, it’s like everything happened to someone else.’
I crouched to find her line of sight.
‘But I tell you honestly, it was never like that when I was with you. From the moment we met I can remember everything. I remember where we went, what we talked about, how your clothes used to feel, I can even tell you what music was playing on the radio when we were together. But most of all I remember how you used to throw your head back whenever I made you laugh. That didn’t happen very often, I know, but when it did, it was as though, for a split second, I had taken you over completely.’
Felix Shill Deserves to Die Page 13
