Straightening Ali (7 page)

Ali’s mother-in-law seemed to have the most horrendous taste in clothes. She was wearing a hideous, salwar kameez suit that looked almost like wallpaper found in any Pakistani curry house. It was made from a thick burgundy velvet fabric, which was covered with little splashes of bleached green patches, while the dupatta, covering her hair, had large nylon flower petals sewn on it.

She led Ali and Yunus into the house through a long hallway. The smell of freshly cooked curry emanated from the nearby kitchen, making Ali’s stomach churn. It had a delicious aroma, but the thought of eating was the last thing on his mind. His stomach was volatile and his nerves in tatters as he wondered what his in-laws would make of him. It felt as if he were about to walk into an interview.

The walls of the hallway were covered in framed photographs of the weddings of various family members. “This is going to be my life,” Ali thought glumly seeing his future mapped out in the photographs on the walls.

Just before reaching the end of the hallway, Ali’s mother-in-law stopped and turned round as if remembering something. “Yunus,” she cried, finally acknowledging him. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot you. I’m so absent minded. I was so excited at seeing my new son-in-law and had no thought for anything else. Please forgive me. I can be a forgetful old woman sometimes,” she said apologetically. She looked at Yunus and then at Ali again. “You both look so alike, a lot like your father. He was such a tall and handsome man.”

“
Thank you,” Yunus replied, forgiving her absent-mindedness, feeling pleased that she had noticed he looked like his father.

Ali didn’t mind being told that he looked like his father, but he wasn’t happy to hear that he looked anything like Yunus. As he was unable to think of an appropriate response, he followed them quietly into the lounge.

“
Look, who has come to visit,” his mother-in-law said jovially to the middle-aged man sitting on the beige leather sofa as if she was surprising him. “Ali, this is your father-in-law,” she said introducing him.

Ali’s father-in-law got up to greet them. He was smartly dressed in a beige suit that almost blended into the sofa. He was clean-shaven, which was quite unusual for a Muslim man of his age, and was very slim in distinct contrast to his wife. Ali discretely examined his teeth, and was pleased to see that they appeared to look normal, if a little tea stained.

His father-in-law looked very serious despite wearing a smile. He hugged Ali in the strange way that old Pakistani men greeted each other. He placed his head to Ali’s left cheek with the first hug, and then moved his cheek to Ali’s right cheek while giving him a second hug. Yunus looked on, enjoying the uncomfortable look on Ali’s face.

Turning to the coffee table in front of him, he picked up a garland made of fresh flowers. He noticed Ali eyeing them warily. “This is an old custom from Pakistan. If your father had been alive today, I would have been proud to place them on him. Instead your brother takes his place,” he said placing the garland around Yunus’s neck and then hugged him in the same manner. “It’s very sad that you both lost your father while so young,” he muttered sadly in Urdu.

“
Take a seat my son,” he said to Ali pointing to the sofa, and then gesturing to Yunus to do the same.

“
Thank you, Uncle,” Ali said, uncertain as to how he should address his father-in-law, and promptly sat down. Yunus took the space on the sofa next to him.

“
Don’t call me Uncle. We are going to be very close when you are married to my daughter. I’ll be like a father to you. You must call me Abbu Jee,” Ali’s father-in-law said sternly.

Abbu Jee meant father. It seemed insensitive of his father-in-law to think that he should be called this especially as their father had passed away shortly after Yunus’s wedding. Ali did not quite know how to reply.

Getting a sharp look from Yunus’s direction, Ali replied, unsure whether it was what Yunus wanted him to say. “Thank you, Abbu,” he said, deciding it was best not to offend him. The words felt strange on his tongue. “How could this man expect me to call him father? He is nothing like my father,” Ali thought.

“
I am proud to have you in the family, my son,” Ali’s father-in-law replied.

“
I have a present that my mother has asked me to give to Sajda,” Ali said, relinquishing the box that he’d been holding.

His father-in-law took the box, opened the lid and smiled in a satisfied manner after he’d examined what was in it. He handed the box to his wife who sat down next to him, and she removed the dress from its box. “It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed. “It looks like it has been made in Pakistan,” she added, recognizing the fine detail. “It’s Sajda’s favorite color. She will adore it. You must thank your mother. This gift is truly generous of her.”

“
I’m glad you think she will like it,” Ali replied, wondering why his in-laws didn’t find it strange that he had not been involved in the choosing of the present.

“
We have bought you a present as well. I shall fetch it for you,” his mother-in-law said, getting up heavily from the sofa.

“
Thank you, but you shouldn’t have,” Ali said politely.

“
It’s tradition to exchange gifts,” his mother-in-law said admonishingly. “Has your mother not told you this?”

“
Rhazia,” she shouted, bellowing the name loudly through the open lounge door. “Will you bring down the gift for Ali? Hurry up, child!” Moments later, a young girl stepped into the lounge holding a clothes hanger with a suit displayed on it.

The girl smiled shyly at Ali, before handing the suit to her mother. “This is my youngest daughter, Rhazia,” Ali’s mother-in-law said, introducing her. Rhazia smiled again and then hurried awkwardly out of the room. She reminded Ali of his own sister, Aneesa, who was just as shy when people came to visit.

“
She’s very shy, so you have to excuse her,” Ali’s mother-in-law confirmed apologetically. “She’s a good girl. We’ve brought her up well. She gets shy around men and doesn’t talk to them like the other girls her age, just as it should be. We’re very lucky that she has turned out so well.” She handed Ali the suit. “What do you think of it?” she demanded.

Ali looked at the suit, uncertain whether he liked it. It was dark green, and he was unsure whether he would actually ever wear it. “It’s lovely,” Ali said, pretending to be pleased with it.

“
I’m glad that you like it. When you take it home with you, try it on, and if it doesn’t fit, then bring it back. I’ll return it for you. I checked the size was correct with your mother, so it should be the right fit,” Ali’s mother-in-law said to him, pleased that Ali had liked her personal choice of clothes for him.

“
Thank you,” said Ali respectfully.

“
So what are your plans for when you get married?” Ali’s father-in-law asked. “What will you do for work? Will you move to Nottingham or will you stay in Birmingham?” The questions rolled off his father-in-law’s tongue in an interrogative manner.

“
I don’t know,” Ali said, caught off guard. “I haven’t really had the chance to think about it, yet.” What he really would have liked to say was that he’d only been told about the marriage yesterday, and that he had been living a gay lifestyle until then.

He looked at his in-laws sitting on their comfortable sofa in their cozy home, and he realized he couldn’t treat them like strangers anymore. He’d seen their joy and happiness and suddenly knew that he couldn’t let them down. They were good people who wanted the best for their daughter. He represented a lot to them, someone who would be able to offer their daughter the best of both worlds – English and Pakistani – an ideal match.

“
Your mother says that you work at the moment and that you have a degree?” his father-in-law asked, seeking confirmation from Ali, just in case his mother had exaggerated.

“
Well, I finished my degree two weeks ago, so I’ve not had time to look for a proper job, yet. I needed a break after my finals. I have been working part-time in a clothing store on the weekends, but I resigned last week as I wanted to concentrate on looking for a job in my field,” Ali said, assuring his father-in-law that he wasn’t an unemployed layabout that he suspected him of being.

“
So you’re unemployed! You won’t get much money on the dole! How do you plan to support my daughter when you’re married?” his father-in-law demanded.

“
I don’t know. I’ve only just started to apply for jobs in the research field,” Ali said, surprised by the abruptness of the question. “I can probably get my job back with the clothing store. It’ll get us by until I’ve sorted something better out.”

“
I’m sorry, but I must ask you these questions. I have looked after my daughter all of her life. I want to make sure that you will do the same. A part-time job in a shop won’t support my daughter. You must work for my son Omar’s friend, Javed. He has a vacancy at his firm, and I’m sure he would like you to work for him. He will pay you more than a job in a clothing store.”

“
I don’t want just any job. I want to work for a pharmaceuticals research company. If I start working full time now, it will distract me from getting a job that I really want,” Ali said, dismayed by his father-in-law’s suggestion. It was good that he wanted someone who would support his daughter financially, but finding a job for him was insulting.

“
Don’t worry. It will only be until you get a proper job. Omar is finalizing it for you today. The job will be here in Nottingham, and you can both move into our spare room until you’ve found a house to buy,” he said generously.

“
I’m not sure if I’m ready to buy a house. I don’t think I want a mortgage just yet,” Ali said, trying hard not to show the shock that he was feeling. Things were moving quickly out of his control.

“
It’s all been organized with your mother. You will not have to worry about a mortgage. As part of the arrangements your mother has agreed to buy a house for you and Sajda. We’ll help you to find the right house and afterwards help you to decorate it, too,” Ali’s father-in-law said generously.

“
I don’t know, my mother hasn’t said anything about this,” Ali said taken aback. However, he found it quite easy to imagine that his mother had agreed to this without mentioning it to anyone. Even Yunus looked surprised by the arrangements, which meant she had not confided in him either. He was also probably annoyed that the family had only built him an extension to the house when he got married and not purchased him a house of his own.

“
I’ve already spoken to your mother about it,” Ali’s father-in-law said. “We both agreed that it’s better for you to find work in Nottingham. There are more opportunities for you here than in Birmingham. She agrees there are lots of bad influences for young people there. I’ve seen Birmingham in the news. It’s full of terrorists. There is always a shooting, a riot or someone getting robbed. It is much safer here for you both.”

“
Birmingham isn’t that dangerous at all. They always exaggerate things on the news,” Ali said, immediately defending his home city. “In fact, it’s going to be as good as London now that they’ve finished redeveloping the Bull Ring.” Ali knew that the real reason his mother had agreed for him to move closer to his in-laws was to get him away from the friends that she thought were a bad influence on him, namely Haseena.

“
That is because you’re a decent boy, Ali. You don’t notice these things around you,” Ali’s father-in-law said. “It is not right for my daughter to live in such a dangerous city. There are other reasons why you must move here. My daughter is a very modern girl. She has been to college and now works. If she moves to Birmingham, she will not be able to do the same things. The community there is very narrow-minded. They will not understand why she works. They’ll say it’s because you cannot support her. It’s better for you both to live here. Yunus was married to a girl from Pakistan. Yunus did she work?”

“
No,” Yunus muttered, glaring crossly at the mention of his ex-wife.

“
Your wife never worked, and she lived in your mother’s house. Why? I think it’s because she was from the village. She wanted to have children, look after them and clean the house,” Ali’s father-in-law said, giving his narrow minded opinion. “Girls born in England want different things. My daughter has been working since she was eighteen. She has a very good job. She has a career. Why must she give this up because she is getting married? These are modern times.”

“
I’ve never said that she should move away and give up her career. I didn’t even know she worked. All I said is that Birmingham is a nice place,” Ali said, upset at being chided.

“
You’re right. I’m sorry, Ali. I should not speak to you like this. You’ll be her husband soon. It will be your decision whether you want her to work or not. I’m just her father, and I forget that my duty ends once she is married,” Ali’s father-in-law said. “I must ask you one thing. Will you allow my daughter to work?”

“
It’s up to her. If she wants to work, she can. It’s her decision, not mine,” Ali said, cringing inwardly, embarrassed that his father-in-law was asking such a question. It seemed that his fiancée’s family clearly clung tightly to their Pakistani village values, despite giving the impression that they were modern and forward thinking in their outlook.