Birmingham Friends (53 page)

‘Doing my best to be.’ As Jake reversed into Kate’s strip of drive, she said, ‘Does Krish know we’re coming?’

‘I phoned.’ The van accelerated loudly. ‘He sounded very low. Didn’t say much.’

‘But he’s coming?’

Jake nodded.

‘Did he say anything about last night?’

‘No. He never says much on the phone. Always afraid she’s listening.’

‘What a life.’

Jake inclined his head in agreement. ‘My guess is he won’t have had the easiest of days.’

As they drove along the Alcester Road towards Moseley, the two of them talked rather abstractedly. Had she got to Roland’s in time? Had he had many customers that day? Anna was feeling nervous about seeing Krish. Not because she didn’t want to forgive him, to give him support, but because those feelings had somehow to be made clear.

They saw him waving to them from the corner of the road before they even reached Olivia’s house. Jake braked sharply and Anna moved up into the middle seat of the cab. Seeing Krish again she was struck once more by the enormous appeal of his puppy-like looks.

‘Been forced to camp out on the pavement now, have you?’ Jake joked as they pulled away.

Krish seemed slightly breathless. ‘I thought if she saw you two it’d make things worse. It’s been bloody awful in there today.’ He shifted uneasily beside Anna, avoiding her eyes. ‘She’s not speaking to me – not a single word. Ben’s been out all day, so there’s just Sean. Jesus, is he a moody bloke. Must be living with us that does it.’

He gave a nervous little laugh and turned to Anna. ‘I’m really, really sorry about last night,’ he said disarmingly. ‘I got completely above myself and I regretted it straight away. Can you forgive me?’

Anna smiled. There was an adroitness in the apology which made her realize that he had become well practised at saying sorry, keeping things smooth. Living with her, no doubt.

‘It’s OK.’ To her annoyance she felt herself blushing. ‘I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble over it?’

‘I expect you’ve gathered my mother’s rather possessive?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Jake said. ‘Anna’s on your side.’

‘I thought you’d fallen under her spell like everyone else seems to.’ His voice was bitter.

‘Not for long,’ Anna said.

Jake parked in a side street off Stoney Lane, and they walked across to the little restaurant. The street was busy, most of the shops still open, with people milling in and out of the grocer’s a few doors away, leaning over the rickety trestle tables outside to select from the boxes of green bananas, okra, garlic, oranges. A string holding paper bags shifted in the breeze. One of the passing cars blared Asian film music, a woman’s voice reaching high. The evening air was warm and full of the smells of cooking.

Inside many of the tables were already taken and the atmosphere was busy, full of spice and smoke, a mixed-race clientele, the waiters holding dishes high, wriggling their hips to squeeze between the chairs. A huge white man sat alone at the back of the room pulling at
naan
bread with stumpy fingers. The waiter seated them with great courtesy, a metal jug of water and a small metal dish containing chopped onions in a runny white sauce rippled with tomato ketchup. Each table was covered by a sheet of glass with the menus tucked underneath and a sprinkling of paper napkins on the top.

‘You familiar with this cooking?’ Jake asked.

‘Oh, yes. Richard was very keen on these places and got me hooked. I brought my mom here a few times.’

Jake smiled. ‘And?’

‘She loved it. Said it was the nearest she’d get to travelling now.’

They ordered Cokes and food.

‘Kebabs,’ Krish said. ‘It has to be kebabs.’

Once they’d got past the activity of ordering, there was a sudden awkwardness. Anna asked Krish about his course, whether he was enjoying it.

‘It’s fine,’ he said ‘Really interesting.’ She couldn’t help feeling that this, too, was a stock reply.

‘And the Bengali – you obviously already speak it?’

‘Some. She brought me up almost bilingual – that was the idea. She speaks it very well herself.’

He changed the subject quickly then, asking Jake how the business was going, and the two of them talked through the starters. The main dishes arrived, the dark, well-used
balti
dishes like small woks, half filled with bright, sizzling food, and thick
naan
breads and rice alongside.

‘Enjoy your meal,’ the waiter said, retreating.

There was a long, embarrassed silence. They tore the bread, scooped up the spiced meat and vegetables.

‘So things are bad again?’ Jake said eventually, with a directness which suggested they settle down to the real business of the evening.

Krish nodded. Anna expected him to feel ill at ease with her there, but he seemed to trust her. She saw that as a measure of the trust he had in Jake.

‘It’s the longest I’ve spent in the house since last summer. A few days is OK. I can cope with it. Things don’t build up too much.’ He looked round at Anna. ‘You might think I’m being very critical of her. Most people think she’s marvellous – charming and sensitive, life and soul of the party. She is, of course, some of the time. In fact in some ways there’s no one I’d rather have a conversation with. That’s the good side of the lodgers being there. She’s gifted with shy people – draws them out, makes them feel interesting and part of things. And she’s very clever. I admire her a lot for all she’s done. She had a hard time, bringing me up on her own and all that.’

‘My mother brought me up on her own,’ Anna remarked.

‘Did she?’ Krish looked intrigued for a second. ‘But I expect she’s a very different sort of person. My mother’s had so much to deal with – me coming along, not only the bastard baby but the wrong colour as well, and her parents throwing her out . . . She’s heroic, really.’

‘Why did they throw her out?’ Anna asked, feeling compelled to interrupt this hymn of praise. She wondered what version of events Olivia had permitted Krish.

‘Oh, they wanted her to have a nice little job, marry someone rich and influential. You know, all the respectable things. She wanted to play the piano – she’s very gifted, you know – and study. Branch out. She was really a sort of Bohemian at heart.’

‘I see,’ Anna said, carefully. She felt Jake’s eyes on her.

Krish pushed his chair back. ‘I need a proper drink. Coke just isn’t enough for the day I’ve had. Back in a minute.’

‘There’s an off-licence just along the way,’ Jake explained as Krish disappeared. He looked at Anna. ‘At least we’ll be able to deliver him home safely.’

‘What’s going on?’ Anna asked. ‘We’re back to the Blessed Martyr Olivia Kemp bit again.’

‘He does that. When he’s most angry with her he has to get all this stuff in first – how marvellous she is. It’s a kind of pledge of loyalty, I think.’

‘Before he says what he really feels?’

‘Sometimes.’ Jake offered her more rice. ‘He doesn’t find it easy to say anything bad about her.’

Anna refused the rice. She sat back in her chair. ‘I feel I know so many things about her that he doesn’t.’

‘Then tell him.’

‘D’you think it’d really be any help to him to know?’

Jake considered this. ‘He only knows what she’s chosen to tell him. Perhaps it would help to have another version of events.’

‘I can hardly tell him here.’

‘It’s not ideal I know, but I don’t think we’ll get too many chances.’

Krish came back with chilled wine and a four-pack of beer. He pulled off one of the cans and drank thirstily.

‘That’s more like it.’ He grinned at the two of them. ‘Go on, help yourselves. Wine’s open. I got them to do it.’

Anna took a beer and pulled the ring. Cautiously she said, ‘Krish – how much do you know about your mother’s life?’

‘Hardly a thing,’ he said, jovial suddenly. ‘I mean, I have a sort of outline, without much detail. Great parents, nice house. Wrens in the war. London. My father – MY FATHER, in capital letters heavily underlined. The great Krishna Chaudhuri. Me. That’s about it. Don’t know what’s missing – except a screw, in her case!’ He laughed, loudly, but it was drowned by a sudden cheer from one of the other tables. Someone’s birthday. Krish’s dark hands played nervously with the red and green can. He drained it and took a second one. ‘Go on,’ he said to Anna. ‘Let’s have it, then.’

‘We could talk about it later,’ she said gently. ‘Get out of here?’

‘That bad, is it?’ he said with a foolish giggle. ‘What’s she done then? Hasn’t murdered anyone, has she? Sometimes, the look in her eyes, I think she could. I really do.’

Anna glanced uneasily at Jake as she started talking. She began with the early parts, the friendship, easing them in. Krish listened without interrupting. His cheeks had deepened in colour and his eyes were beginning to have a slightly glazed look. As she spoke, couching what she had to say in the gentlest terms possible, Krish drank steadily, ignoring the remains of his food. He sat back on the hard chair, eyes fixed on Anna’s face. In the middle of her account he leaned over and picked up the bottle of wine. Jake tried to restrain his arm.

‘Go easy.’

‘Piss off, Jake,’ Krish protested. ‘What d’you think I bought it for?’

It was only when she got to the part about Arden he began to react. He leaned across the table, clutching the bottle to his chest with one hand like a teddy bear. ‘So you’re saying she’s a loony. It’s true!’ He laughed almost triumphantly. ‘I knew it. My mother’s a loony.’ He lifted the bottle and drank it back like fizzy pop. ‘That’s more like it.’ He offered it round. ‘Go on, have some.’

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jake whispered to Anna. He stood up. Between the two of them they put together enough money to pay the bill. It was a struggle getting Krish out between the tightly packed chairs. He refused to give up the bottle and kept letting out bursts of laughter so that people at the other tables turned and stared at them.

‘My mother’s a complete fruitcake,’ he told one table amiably and Anna felt their eyes all momentarily swivel to her, trying to work out if she was his mother, then concluding she probably wasn’t.

Outside, Jake held him round the waist and Anna took his arm. It was growing dark, the sky a very pale blue, edged with yellow, the street still full of life, cars passing.

‘Come on, Krish,’ Jake said. ‘Let’s get you to the van. It’ll be OK.’

Krish stumbled along between them. As they reached the van he was still laughing, crumpling between them, tears running down his face. Alongside the road was a small park, open space behind a low railing. They stepped over, Krish catching his foot on the rail and making them sprawl on to the grass together, him between them. A rat scuttered away nearby. They sat Krish up between them. His head was in his hands, the bottle standing between his knees. More music blared from a house opposite.

‘I’m going to end up like her!’ His voice was high. ‘I know I will. She’s going to make me like her.’

‘You won’t,’ Anna tried to soothe him. ‘You’re not a bit like her.’

‘But you said it last night. “You’re all mad.” You said so.’

‘I was just angry. I’m sorry.’

Krish was silent for a moment. ‘I can’t be what she wants all the time.’

‘And what’s that?’ Anna asked him. Jake sat listening quietly, an arm round Krish’s shoulders.

Krish shook his head helplessly. ‘Sometimes I think she wants me to be my father.’ He paused as a motorbike roared past on the road. ‘Or she wants me to be a baby for her for ever or . . . I don’t know. She justs wants me to be everything . . . that she needs.’

‘But that’s not reasonable, is it?’ Anna said. ‘No mother should ask that of a child.’

‘She’s not just any mother, though, is she?’ Krish took more mouthfuls from the bottle. ‘Thing is – I’ve realized gradually that she’s not like other mothers. But I’ve always thought, well, maybe she’s not that bad. No one else thinks there’s anything odd about her. I’ve tried to kid myself she wasn’t so different from anyone else – what happens with some of the lodgers . . . That she was just broad-minded, a free spirit or something. She’s coped, after all. She’s not got a psychiatric record – she must be OK really. So that meant I’d be all right too. But she’s not all right, is she? She’s even been in one of those places . . .’

‘A long time ago,’ Anna said. ‘And for a good reason.’

Krish was barely listening to her. ‘She’ll drive me mad herself. She’ll be the one. I can’t do anything without her being part of it. I can’t go out, can’t have friends, can’t see women. If I even get near a woman it all gets fouled up because I feel as if she’s watching. I don’t even want to do this bloody degree. I don’t know what to do . . .’ He was really crying now, taking deep gulps. ‘I can’t even talk about her normally because I feel such a shit if I do . . . And I’m scared. I’m so scared of being ill – in my head. Sometimes I think I’m not right. No one should think things like I do.’

Anna also put her arm round him. ‘Krish, Krish . . .’ The three of them sat close in the darkening evening. Anna felt Jake stroke her arm with the back of his fingers, behind Krish’s back. She looked round at him and their eyes met, sadly, but with warmth in them.

‘Let’s get back,’ Jake said. Krish was sagging between them now. ‘He’s past any more conversation.’ He lifted the bottle of wine and held it up in the fading light. ‘God, he’s nearly drunk the lot.’

‘We can’t take him back there!’ Anna said.

‘He can come to mine. I’ll drop you off first.’

‘I’ll come round tomorrow – first thing.’

They had to half drag Krish into the van. He sat slumped in the middle seat, silent now and unreachable.

‘I didn’t even tell him all of it,’ Anna said to Jake, still outside.

‘He’s certainly heard enough for now, though.’ Jake stopped by the door of the van. In the shadows his face looked longer, and thin, his expression anxious. He glanced in at Krish and shook his head. ‘D’you think I was wrong?’

‘No. I’d have had to tell him. He was going to keep asking me.’

They drove back in silence, Krish pressed against Anna’s shoulder. He was asleep, but uneasily so, and kept stirring and giving long, groaning sighs. The silence between herself and Jake was not neutral either. She knew there was a pressure of emotion between them, of need and attraction. That each of them was waiting to see if the other would move forward first. Anna felt very alert, her emotions heightened, as if she could go on effortlessly all night with no sleep.