Salif explains why, but Valerie answers, “Big deal. Just wash the place mat, it is made from cheap cloth anyway.”
Now that the animation of the game is over, Valerie looks to Bella as if she hasn’t had much rest; in fact, she looks like a street cat caught in the rain. Padmini seems subdued as well. Bella wonders if Valerie has informed Padmini that she has withdrawn her case and is no longer contesting the will or filing for child custody. Will their relationship come to grief when Padmini learns this, she wonders, or will Padmini see it as tit for tat for Padmini’s ruinous attempt to recover her family’s property in Uganda? And has Valerie told Padmini about her anger over Bella’s rescuing them? Bella stands on the periphery of the circle and listens.
Dahaba is asking, “Mum, have you read much gay literature?”
“Gay literature, did you say?”
“You see,” says Dahaba, “my friend Qamar has told me that nowadays you can take queer literature courses in America and the UK at universities. You can even do a PhD on the subject, it is so rich.”
Salif makes threatening pistol-shaped gestures with his fingers at Dahaba, warning her away from this topic, and even Bella tries to catch the girl’s eyes to suggest that she rein it in. But even when Salif kicks Dahaba in the shin and Valerie says to Salif, “Please. Where are your manners?” she doesn’t stop.
“I can give you a list of classic gay authors that my friend Qamar says you’ll enjoy reading,” Dahaba says.
“Have you read any of them yourself?” asks Valerie.
Dahaba replies, “No, I haven’t. But Qamar has.”
“Give the list to Padmini.”
Padmini says to Dahaba, “Give them to me. I am partial to such writing. Your mum likes thrillers and crime fiction. I can’t bear reading any of that.”
“Because murder has a built-in narrative structure,” Valerie declares.
Padmini says, “I just love gay classics like Nightwood by Djuna Barnes; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde; Death in Venice by Thomas Mann; The Color Purple by Alice Walker; Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde; and Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeannette Winterson. They are wonderful.”
Despite her worries that this discussion will lead the conversation back to areas that are best avoided, Bella is relieved that the topic of sexuality is now on the table. Nevertheless, she takes the opportunity to change the subject before too much more can be said. “We are having a dinner party tomorrow evening,” she announces. “What do you say to that?”
“It depends on who is invited,” says Dahaba.
“Your mum and Auntie Padmini for starters,” says Bella.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I love parties,” says Valerie.
Padmini says, “I’ll help cook.”
Salif says, “That’s super. I love Indian food.”
Dahaba asks, “And who else?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kariuki,” says Bella.
Valerie says, “Who are they?”
Salif explains, “The principal of our school and his wife, who we stayed with. They were our hosts and they were very, very kind, especially the Mrs. She is large and generous and fun.”
“Can we invite Qamar and Zubair?” says Dahaba.
“Yes, of course,” says Bella.
“Can their mum and dad come too, please?” asks Salif.
“Sure,” says Bella.
“And who else?” asks Salif.
“Your father’s colleague Gunilla.”
This time, Bella senses the presence of a ripple of tension from Valerie at the mention of Gunilla’s name, which brings on a feeling of renewed apprehension.
“We know her,” says Dahaba. “She’s cool.”
Bella asks, “By the way, when is Uncle Mahdi coming to pick you up for the movie? Maybe it is time you showered, no?”
Dahaba goes upstairs.
“What movie are you going to see?” asks Valerie.
Salif replies, “A film called The First Grader, based on the true tale of an eighty-four-year-old former freedom fighter during the struggle for Kenyan independence from British rule. Never having gone to school, he enrolls himself in primary school with six-year-olds. It’s about the uneasiness his presence in the classroom creates among the educational and political authorities.”
“Fascinating,” says Bella.
“Mum, interested in coming?”
“Not my type of film,” says Valerie.
—
A quarter of an hour later, Mahdi, Zubair, and Qamar arrive to pick up Dahaba and Salif. Dahaba immediately invites them to the dinner party tomorrow evening, and Mahdi immediately says that the family would be delighted to come. Bella introduces him to Valerie and Padmini, and she can see his flicker of recognition as he puts the names and faces together with all that he has heard.
Mahdi says to Valerie, “My children mentioned you were here visiting. I am so pleased to meet you.”
Valerie says, “You have lovely children.”
Mahdi welcomes Valerie and Padmini, and he smiles at both, a little too formally, thinks Bella. Nothing in his manner betrays that he knows anything about the legal rows and custody battles that have been raging in the family. He is impeccably polite, and he also treats Padmini with the respect due an honored guest.
Bella brings Mahdi tea and pours him and her some. Valerie and Padmini take their usual sundowners. But the conversation doesn’t flow easily, and they are all relieved when the stairway echoes with the shouts of teenagers as the children and their friends roughhouse. Not that they lower their voices or make the slightest effort to calm down when they come into the room where the adults are. All four speak at the same time. Zubair and Qamar are impatient to get to the movie. “Dad,” Zubair says, “we’re going to be late.”
Mahdi looks at his watch. He says, “You’re not.”
Bella says, “The impatience of youth!”
“Please let me finish my tea,” Mahdi says.
“There is tea everywhere,” says Zubair.
They troop out, still full of excitement, and the younger ones race each other to the car. Watching them, it’s easy to forget that Dahaba and Salif have only recently lost their father.
Now that the three women are alone, the tension in the room is all the more heightened, and their conversation flows much less naturally. Bella points Valerie and Padmini to the liquor cabinet, saying, “Please do drink and be merry.” She moves away on the pretext of warming up dinner after taking their order for leftovers from the afternoon’s takeaway.
Valerie makes herself a whiskey on the rocks and Padmini pours herself some red wine. Bella takes only water with a slice of lemon. They sip their drinks silently, evasively holding back what is on their minds despite the fact that a lot needs to be said. Yet not one of them is prepared to speak.
Finally Valerie slips out to the bathroom, and Padmini hurriedly says, “We owe you a big thanks, Bella, for settling the bills. I’ll make sure we pay you back.” When Valerie returns, looking much the worse for wear, Bella abruptly changes the conversation and talks about the Nairobi weather. How cold it can get at night up in the mountains and near the lakes! Bella is too wary to trust that nothing nefarious is afoot, and she is therefore extra solicitous, fearful of rousing Valerie’s demons. What is more, Bella doesn’t want the rapport between Valerie and Padmini to unravel now that they seem to be on course for departure back to Pondicherry. She is relieved when the conversation starts to flow again, with Valerie suggesting they eat at the big dining room table for a change. And they find a legion of discussion topics that Bella presses into service, such as the state of their restaurant and hotel business, the children’s welfare, Bella’s place in the children’s lives—as well as Valerie and Padmini’s future. For the first time since Valerie’s arrival, Bella begins to feel the butterflies in her stomach settle.
Valerie says to Bella, “What occasion has prompted you to throw a party tomorrow evening? Of course, we are delighted that you’ve invited us too.”
Bella is aware that it won’t do for her to say that the party is their farewell party. “This is a welcome dinner for you, to which I’ve also invited friends of Aar’s, most of whom you haven’t met before. It is also a party I am throwing for myself now that my new life here in this new country is taking shape. In addition, I see this as a housewarming party.”
Gracious for once, Valerie says, “Thanks for the invite.”
After dinner, Bella drops them off at their hotel.
—
When she gets back home, Bella writes an e-mail to the Kariukis to give the house address and directions as she promised. Then she rings Marcella and leaves yet another message on her voice mail.
Finally, Bella takes the time to set up the darkroom. She puts all the equipment in place: an enlarger, an optical apparatus, a slide projector, sheets of photographic paper, a safelight, and the chemicals in which the paper will be immersed. To make sure everything is shipshape, she test prints a handful of photographs she took when she arrived here. The first images come out grainy and she isn’t terribly pleased with them, but she works at the images until they are sharp and clean. And because she doesn’t wish to sleep before Salif and Dahaba are back from the movies, she devotes half an hour to a long letter to Marcella, in which she brings the old dear of a woman up to speed on all that has transpired.
Salif and Dahaba get home close to midnight, full of beans and ready to chat about the film they saw. Bella, remembering that she has a dinner party to organize for tomorrow night, pleads exhaustion and retires to her bedroom, saying, “Good night. See you tomorrow, darlings.”
20.
It is nine in the morning and Bella is in the kitchen drawing up her shopping list for tonight’s dinner party when her mobile phone rings. It’s Padmini, who offers to give a hand with the cooking. “And if you haven’t done the shopping yet,” she goes on, her voice low, almost whispering, “you can come and get me, and we can go to the Indian spice shop close to the Nakumatt.”
“Would Valerie like to come too?” Bella asks.
“I doubt it.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It was quite a fitful night.”
Bella knows there is no point in questioning her further; it’s clear there is a reason Padmini is not being more forthcoming. So she simply says, “Please expect me in an hour.”
She showers, puts on a pair of slacks and a pair of sneakers, and knocks gently on Salif’s door. “Wait,” he says, and when he opens the door, he is dressed. “Morning, Auntie,” he says. “What’s up?” He is ready to roll.
She tells him what her plan is. He says, “I know the routine. You want me to stay put and look after my sister and the house, right?”
She hugs and kisses him and drives off to get Padmini, thinking about her plight, especially if she can’t persuade Valerie to return to India with Padmini. She thinks to herself that one day, without warning, a door will open somewhere in Padmini’s mind or, rather, a sense of despair will stroll in and take up residence. Then the poor woman will say enough is enough and she will leave Valerie. That is the damage that divided loyalty does, and the signs of an inevitable split are there. Bella can smell it the way you can smell an approaching storm. Maybe Padmini senses it is time she ups and flees, the way frightened people flee an oncoming hurricane. But Bella selfishly hopes that the women manage to leave together and that their parting of ways takes place after they are back in India.
Bella parks in front of the hotel and doesn’t get out of the vehicle. She calls Padmini’s mobile, but there is no answer, so Bella just waits; she does not want to risk running into Valerie. It occurs to her that they are behaving like a couple having a clandestine affair. But Valerie doesn’t seem to care.
Bella’s thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Padmini, and she drives off in the direction of the Nakumatt shopping mall.
“So what is all this cloak-and-dagger stuff?”
“After you dropped us off last night, Ulrika, the lesbian who has a financial stake in that raided club, BIH, came to the door of our chalet, veiled.”
“Veiled, as in looking like a devout Muslim?”
“Yes. And there was a man with her, a German. Ulrika was in need of a place to hide from the police. I didn’t want to oblige them but Valerie insisted. So Ulrika slept on the couch, and her friend slept on the floor of our chalet. Early this morning, the man left, but Ulrika is still there.”
It doesn’t escape Bella that it is her own munificence that is now paying to keep Ulrika free. I might as well join the movement myself, she thinks. And of course, here in Africa, where gays are victimized, harassed, and harangued, they could do with all the help they can get.
“Any idea what effect the current situation will have on your plans for departure tomorrow?”
“No.”
It’s clear to Bella—and must be to Padmini too, Bella thinks—that Ulrika and Valerie have already had at least a fling. Will they continue their interrupted liaison now? Bella suspects that they might, which does not auger well for either Padmini’s or Bella’s plans.
Padmini says, “Valerie says that Ulrika is safe with us until tomorrow morning, when we are due to depart, thanks to your generosity in paying for the room until then. After that, she says, it’s up to Ulrika to find another sanctuary.”
“Is that arrangement okay with you?”
“No. What if the police find out where she is? We’ll be considered accessories to the crime for offering shelter to a fugitive.”
“What is Valerie’s response to this?”
“She maintains that the likelihood of that happening is minimal and that we should give Ulrika shelter until an hour or so before we are scheduled to leave.”
“Remind me when that is, your departure time.”
“We are due to check in at Ugandan Air at five.”
“Tight,” comments Bella.
“I said it is too tight for my liking. But she insists that she wants to leave. She says she wants no repeat of what occurred in Kampala. She threw another stinker of a fit when she discovered you had paid the hotel bill up through tomorrow morning, by the way.”
“Why?” says Bella. “Is the woman mad?”
“Anyhow, she was raving and ranting and calling you all sorts of terrible names until Ulrika and her friend showed up. Then she was singing a different tune.”
“She still doesn’t know how to show gratitude.”
“Valerie doesn’t know the meaning of the concept.”
“So you are set to go?”
“Cross your fingers we are.”
—
In the mall, Bella leaves Padmini in the spice shop and walks across to the Nakumatt. She gets arugula for the salad, and the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, lemon, pepper, and Dijon mustard she needs for her favorite salad dressing. She also gets pasta and peppers and tomatoes for the penne all’arrabbiata she is planning. For Padmini’s dish, she gets basmati rice, chicken pieces, yogurt, fresh ginger, and fresh hot chilies, some green, some red. For dessert, she gets several types of cheese from the Nakumatt deli.
They meet at the checkout counter, and Bella pays. A youth elbows Padmini out of the way and takes hold of the cart Padmini is pushing. Not wanting to fight about it, they let him wheel it to the car, where Bella tips him.
They arrive home to a joyous brouhaha upstairs. Qamar and Zubair have arrived, and the four young people are up in Salif’s room “having fun,” as Qamar puts it, after a hug and a kiss from Auntie Bella when she looks in. Bella informs them that Auntie Padmini is with her downstairs, but that Valerie is delayed.
“But she is okay, though?” asks Dahaba.
“Of course she is.”
<
br /> “And she will be here in time for dinner?”
“Of course she will be.”
Bella is surprised not to have received warning of their children’s arrival from Fatima or Mahdi. Not that this upsets her, but it is unlike them. She checks her phone and discovers she has inadvertently turned it off. There are several messages from them explaining that they are attending a funeral service for a relative on the outskirts of town and so it made sense to drop the children at Aar’s place first. Bella relaxes, happy that their relationship is already such that they don’t have to stand on formality.
In the kitchen, Padmini chats with Bella as she goes about putting away groceries and rustling up some lunch—a dozen baked chicken drumsticks for the children, and, for Padmini and herself, some slices of mozzarella and tomato drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
“Any news from Valerie?” asks Bella.
“Ulrika has been in contact with the German embassy in Nairobi to inform them of her situation.”
“And?”
“The embassy will see what can be done.”
“To my mind, this is the wrong approach.”
“How so?”
“The diplomatic process is a lengthy one at best, and you don’t want this to drag on longer than it has already. And the embassy may get in touch with the hotel management to find a discreet way of spiriting her out of harm’s way. My only worry is that if any of this comes to light then matters may get much worse, at least in the short term. Lately this kind of interference by European and North American governments in local police matters in Africa and Asia has created diplomatic incidents.”
“I had no idea.”
Bella opens the oven and turns the drumsticks. Then she asks, “On what grounds are the police seeking Ulrika’s arrest?”
“Valerie is under the impression that if they apprehend her they’ll charge her with taking hefty fees to set up lesbians visiting from overseas with young African girls.”
“Of course, we are all aware young African boys and girls are farmed out for such purposes to tourists all the time and there has never been any fuss about it.” Bella sets out plates and tumblers filled with water and goes on. “In Mombasa, elderly white men openly frolic with young boys not even of shaving age. And in the seventies, Scandinavian women chased male teenagers in Gambia and Cape Town.”
Hiding in Plain Sight Page 31
