by Robin Banks
In the afternoon, when I come out of the stables with a load of shit, I spot a large ATR parked by the back tunnel. It’s so shiny I can’t even look at it properly. I wonder briefly who the hell could own something like that and want anything to do with us, then I spot Raj talking to Jameson by the office. Raj is leaning casually against the railings, stroking Laika with one hand. Jameson is looking unusually friendly, although his smile stops halfway up his face. I’m a bit surprised, given what Alya said about his opinion of people who are not white, but I guess that for rich people he’s willing to put on a nice front. A girl is hovering behind him, pouting, batting her eyelashes, and generally making a fool of herself.
I guess Alya’s spotted Raj too. She’s got no business whatsoever out here this time of day, yet here she is, messing around the food store as if she were doing something terribly important. I can’t stop giggling as I go past her. She doesn’t seem to like it much.
“What’s your problem?” she snaps.
“You. You’ve been spending too much time in the stables.”
“What are you on about?”
“You’re stomping, huffing, and tossing your hair worse than the ponies at feeding time.”
She glowers at me, then she sags. “I guess you’re right. I’m going to go before I make a total fool of myself.”
“That’d be a damn shame, now that Raj is walking over. I’ll say hi to him for you.”
She whips her head around to look, and of course he’s not moved. He’s not even turned around yet.
The look she gives me when she turns back round should frighten me, I guess, but it makes me laugh instead. “I knew it. You like the guy.”
“Of course I like him. He’s very likeable.”
“That’s not what I meant. You like him.”
“Oh, go boil your head.”
“But if I leave, you’ll have no excuse to be out here.”
“You’re a loathsome child, you know that?”
I shrug. “I’ll go away then. Have fun staring at hay bales. And by the way, he’s really coming over now.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you having me on again?”
“You’ll find out in about thirty seconds.”
She barely stops herself tossing her hair and gives me an even nastier look, but that disappears as soon as she hears Raj’s voice right behind her.
“Are you guys busy? I don’t want to interrupt you, but I come bearing news, good and bad, and gifts. Also, I have your dog. She remembers me. She just wouldn’t stay in the office when she saw me.”
I smile at him. I like this guy. “I’ve got some urgent shit to shovel, so I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Don’t go too far. One of the gifts is for you.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.” He looks down at Alya. “What do you want first? News or gifts?”
“Start with the bad news?”
“Are you sure? It’s quite horrid.”
I don’t believe him for a second. He’s clearly having a ton of fun.
“Get on with it,” snorts Alya.
“You’re coming for dinner. Formal reception. Jameson, you, that creature he calls his daughter, what’s her name.”
“Isabella?”
“Her.” He shudders. “She is the most predatory woman I’ve ever met. She looks at me as if I were something she’s about to swallow.”
I can’t stop myself. “She might, if you ask her nicely.”
“Luke!” Alya shrieks in horror.
Raj’s smile gets even bigger. “I like this kid. He’s awful. You need someone like that around you. Keep you on your toes.”
“You are both awful. But you were joking, right? A formal dinner?”
“No joke. I’m terribly sorry. The whole family will be there. You’re officially invited.”
“But why? I can understand Jameson coming, and Bella.”
Raj winces. “That might be slightly my fault. Slightly. But the kids want to see you, dad asked, and Lara insisted. So I’m not entirely to blame. I was mostly the messenger. I can’t say I don’t look forward to it, though. I promise you, it won’t be too awful.”
“Formal dining? At your place? Of course it will be awful. I’ve got nothing to wear!”
“We can go shopping. I’ll get you a dress. Ten dresses.”
“I can get my own dresses, thank you!”
“Yes, but then I don’t get to see you in all the other dresses. Come naked. I don’t care. Well, I do, but I don’t mind. Just come.”
“I have to come, if you’ve arranged it with Jameson.”
His expression hardens. “No, you don’t. That’s not how I meant it and it’s not how it will be. I just would like you to be there because I enjoy your company. Dad hasn’t seen you in a year. Lara is desperate for some intelligent conversation. She’s not going to get that out of Isabella, is she? And the kids begged me. I’d drag Uncle Kolya along, too, but he’d skin me alive for suggesting it.”
Alya shakes her head. “There will be cutlery everywhere.”
“I can stick you at the kids’ end of the table. You’re about the right size. I can promise you, it won’t be awful. Lara will probably corner you. She’s got some new articles on the ethnobotany of algae that she wants to talk to you about, because none of us are smart enough to keep up with her.”
Alya brightens up. “Does she? Where did she get them from? Are they new-new articles, or new to her?”
“See? I rest my case. You can talk about unpronounceable stuff with Lara. With all your nattering you’ll hardly get a chance to eat anything, so cutlery won’t be an issue. And you can watch Isabella trying to eat me.”
Alya scowls. “I don’t think so.”
“Nothing to stop her if you don’t come. Unless I throw Sumit at her.”
“What a caring brother you are.”
“It would do him good. Make him see sense. He’s still not asked Sonia to marry him, and they’ve been together for years. About time he realizes the advantages of being hitched. So, you’re not too angry at me?”
Alya exhales. “I’m not angry at all. You’re hard to be angry at. That’s not an endearing trait, so don’t look so smug.”
“And you will come?”
“Yes. But on your head be it if I spill anything.”
“If you manage to spill anything on my head, that will make for a good story.”
“You are impossible.”
“I know. That’s why I’m bearing gifts: to make up for it.”
“They better be good, is all I’m saying. Also, you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m not doing it because I should. I’m doing it because I want to. As always.”
“Alright then!”
Raj takes out a small box from his pocket. “Prepare to be astounded.” Inside the box are four memory chips. “Hand out, madam.” He lays the first chip in her palm. “17th century baroque music recorded in the 21st century. About life, death, love, and betrayal. And birds.”
I can’t help snorting. “Sounds weird.”
Raj smiles at me. “You will love it. Make sure she translates the lyrics for you. Best break-up song ever, and it’s nearly 800 years old. A good reminder that people have been people for a long time. But this is nothing, compared to this,” and he puts a second chip in her hand. “21st century instrumental neo-folk. Not so ‘neo’ now, but there you go. It’s not about anything, it’s just beautiful. Like you,” he blurts out.
“I’m not about anything?”
“You’re beautiful. Vexingly so. Anyway, to balance this out,” he puts another chip in her hand, “how about some Jewish Reggae?”
“Say what?”
“Yes. You can play this tonight, if we have a party. Will we have a party tonight?” he pleads.
Alya rolls her eyes. “Clearly we must, now you’ve asked.”
“Good. Then I can show off. I have most of it down on the bass.”
“You’re still playing?”
&
nbsp; “Yes. Badly. I still have too much time and not enough dedication.”
“Nonsense. You were very good last year.”
“Not good enough.” His face twitches, but his smile soon comes back. “Anyway, this one,” he puts the fourth chip in her hand, “is for when you go. If you go. When you go. Uncle Kolya will say that he hates it and listen to it a million times. And number 8 is my song for you. I don’t really know what it’s about, because the translation is atrocious, but it is my song for you.” He swallows hard.
Alya’s staring at the floor.
“Anyway,” he rallies and looks at me. “I do not want to offend you, but I have something I think you might like. If it offends you, tell me and I’ll take it back.”
“I doubt you could ever offend anyone,” whispers Alya.
“All the same, I’d rather make sure.” He takes off the oddly-shaped case that was strapped to his back and hands it over to me. “Here you go. If you want it. I know how boring it can get on ship when you don’t have enough to do.”
“What is it?”
“Open it up.”
I do, but I’m still not sure what I’m looking at.
“It’s a guitar. It’s not a good one, I’m afraid. It looks better than it plays. When we were young, my brothers and I were going to be in a band. Obviously. Four kids with too much time and credit and not enough freedom, you know? This was my brother’s. He hasn’t touched it in years. I had to dust it. It’s yours, if you want it. It may not be the instrument for you, but it’s a good one to start on, I think. Alya can teach you.”
“What? Me?” sputters Alya. “I can barely play a tune!”
He shrugs. “You know enough to get him started. It’ll either suit him, or it won’t. It may make Uncle Kolya dust his violin, too. He should be playing.”
“I should be playing, too.”
“Yes, you should. But right now,” he looks at me, “it’s about you. You have a talent. You may not care about it, or you might find that it gives you no joy. But it’d be a damn shame if you did not explore it. And it will kill time on ship. Plus the girls like it.”
Alya giggles. “That explains your keenness, then.”
“I picked up the bass. I’m safe from temptation.” He turns to look at me, really peering into my eyes. “So, this is it. As I said, I hope I’m not offending, and you can say no.”
“It seems a bit much. I mean, I don’t have anything for you.”
“Now you have to be careful you don’t offend me. This is a gift, not the establishment of an obligation.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“Me neither. This is awkward.” He nods. “But I think we’re managing not to make it unpleasant. Will you take it?”
“I think so. If it’s really ok.”
“I wouldn’t be offering if it wasn’t. It’s tuned and there are spare strings in the bag. The case will protect it on ship. It’s travelled before. My brother will be happy. As am I. Will you let me know how you get on? You can message our house through any Fed satellite. We have an open channel. It’s one of the advantages of being a capitalist bastard.”
“A what?”
“Of having more credit than it’s good for you.”
I frown. “Is that possible?”
“Apparently,” he sighs.
“Raj? Not this again,” murmurs Alya.
He sighs again. “Anyway, I have taken up enough of your time. I will see you again tonight. The whole family is attending the show. Formal dinner tomorrow.” He picks up Alya’s hand and squeezes it, then he walks away. Laika looks seriously torn between staying with Alya and following him.
I feel really awkward about this whole thing. “Was that ok? For me to take this? I don’t even know what one of these things is worth.”
Alya shakes herself off. “Yes. Raj is always straight with people and he loves music. It will genuinely make him happy to see you play, or know that you are playing.”
“Will you show me later?”
“I will try. Maybe not today. But yes, I will show you what I can, but it’s not much. Now you better get to work before Jameson spots you. I’ll store that for you until lunch, ok? Off you go.” She watches the ATR zoom off. “Things are never simple, are they?”
“Seem simple enough to me. You two like each other. What’s complicated about it?”
“Everything else. Did you see where the guy lives?”
“Yeah. Seemed nice enough.”
“Nice? It’s a bloody palace! They have their own bubble! They own the land we’re standing on!”
“So?”
“So can you picture me living in a palace?”
“Why not?”
“I… I don’t know. I’d have to brush my hair. Stop swearing.”
“I thought the point of having credit was that you can do whatever you want.”
“You’d be surprised.” She picks up the guitar – my guitar now – and walks back to her ATR.
When I get back to the stables I get it in the neck from Tom. “Where the fuck did you get to? All you had to do was empty a wheelbarrow. I’ve been working my ass off here.”
I can see no evidence of that, but I still feel bad. “Sorry. Really. I got stuck talking to Raj.”
“That rich guy? What the hell did he want with you?”
“He wanted Alya, mostly.”
“That’s pretty damn obvious. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. If he was after me, I’d be off like a shot.”
“I don’t really get it either. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He seems like a rich guy.”
“He’s both. He brought me a present.”
“Eh? What? He hardly knows you.”
“He had a guitar nobody wanted lying around the house, and Alya told him I’m into music.”
“And just for that he gave you a guitar? What the hell is a guitar, anyway?”
“Musical instrument. It’s got six strings. Not touched it yet.”
“Fucking hell. I wish he liked me too. I could do with some free shit. You’ve got to introduce me properly.”
“You can introduce yourself. He’s pretty chilled out and he’s coming round tonight for the show.”
“And to drool over Alya.”
“That too.”
We don’t have much of a chance to worry about guitars or Raj or anything else for the rest of the day. We’re running late, thanks to me wasting time and Tom not helping make it up. Nicky wants us in early before the first show, so we barely get any break at lunchtime. Tom only points this out to me every two minutes, so he can’t be that upset about it.
I’m getting really wound up about the show. I guess I’m not hiding it very well, because Nicky keeps trying to reassure me.
“Is easy. You put on nice overalls, brush hair, wash face. We take animals to the back of the big top. We hand them over. We take them when act is over. We go back to stables. Then we do it again. Music is our cue for time. You learn this. But you must be calm for the animals. Everything slow and nice and easy. After show, some people buy tickets to see animals. So you stand in stables and answer questions and make sure nobody is eaten. Easy. Ok?”
“Ok. I guess.
“You just be calm, be quiet, do as I say. First day is hard, but every day is same. Gets easier. Just relax.”
If Tom was any more relaxed, he’d be asleep. I don’t know how he does it. Meanwhile, I’m so damn twitchy I could kick myself. Thankfully I don’t have to, because Tom does it for me. Literally, and hard.
As I’m massaging my shin, he hisses at me “Will you fucking chill? What’s the worst that can happen?”
I think about it for a second. “The ponies run off and trample someone to death.”
“Well, aren’t you the optimist!”
I shrug. “You asked. It could happen.”
“Yeah, well, think of something else? Anything else. Ok?”
“I can try.”
Alya swoops in. She�
�s wearing one of those show jackets with too many buttons and lots of gold squiggles, and her hair is up. She’s looking very nice, but no more relaxed than me.
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes, yes.” Nicky rolls his eyes. “If I have problem I tell you. All the animals are ready, boys are ready, and stables are ready. Maybe you are not ready to see your special friend?” He winks.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s an opening night, is all, and all the posh people are coming.”
“And your friend will be watching. I see him earlier today. He is a nice man now, no?”
“Yes! He’s been a nice man for years! Now will you please focus?”
“You need to relax. You look too angry, maybe he runs away.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“All the big words you teach me are bad words,” he shakes his head sadly. “Now relax or you scare my ponies.”
Alya breathes deeply. “You’re right. Very unprofessional.”
He shrugs. “No problem. This is what love does.”
“Will you stop that!”
“No. But you can. Say you do not love him.”
“I could hit you right now.”
“Ha! That is not a no.”
“That’s it. I give up. Do you need me here?”
“Yes, for ponies. Is better. And in stables. You stay with one kid, I stay with the other. Ok?”
“Ok. If I must.”
Nicky was right, again. The work is not hard, but the times are tight and we need to stay relaxed. “You need to hurry slowly,” he says. Tom shakes his head at that, but I think I get it. I can’t do it, but I get it.
I catch a glimpse of Raj and his family coming into the site. It’s hard to miss them. Four pristine ATRs park up by the side tunnel and disgorge a whole bunch of people – men, women, and children – all dressed up fancier than I’ve ever seen anyone. The women are wrapped up in swathes of cloth, all covered in patterns of red and gold. The men are in knee-length coats, just as fancy. Raj sees us in the distance and gives us a quick wave before hurrying on to usher his folks inside. Alya’s face lights up when she sees him, before she checks herself. I don’t know why she bothers, because she’s not fooling anyone.
