9.2
There was great commotion in the assembly hall; it was always this way on a Monday morning as a thousand boys and girls hammered into the hall at once. Orderly lines or patient queues were unheard of: it was a chaotic scrum designed to ensure that the morning’s lessons started late, condensed into a neat twenty-minute slot, conveniently short to convince every teacher that there was just no point in trying.
As she took her place beside her, Siti Noor looked at her friend sympathetically, recognising those painful eyes. She meant to ask if she was okay or if somebody had upset her, but she said nothing at all, offering her only a smile instead; she knew that her friend would tell her what was bothering her in her own time, as was her habit.
‘Where’s Satya?’ began Anjana in place of her, glancing all around her.
‘Don’t know,’ said Siti Noor, shrugging her shoulders, joining in the search. ‘Why?’
‘I need cheering up,’ she replied dourly, ‘I feel like having some fun at her expense. It’s her birthday this week. We ought to mark it. We have to stop worrying about hurting her feelings. I think some bumps are due. Don’t you think? It’s time we were mean to her.’
‘Where’s this come from?’
‘I don’t know,’ sniggered Anjana, ‘it just occurred to me. She takes herself too seriously. When did you ever see her take off her jacket? She’s constantly fiddling with her tie, making it straight. She’s too vain. I feel like bringing her down a notch.’
‘I guess this has something to do with Ben,’ breathed her friend, ‘He’s looking smart these days too. I guess you don’t like her influence.’
Anjana barely smiled. For a second, she shook her head, but soon her eyes were far away, watching the waves and waves of sleet crashing against the windows, the heavy grey darkness pulling strange emotions from within.
‘It has nothing to do with that,’ she sighed finally, ‘and I hadn’t even noticed anything different about him, except he doesn’t smell quite so bad. But it’s true: Satya’s too smart and obsessively so.’
‘And so we must make a mess of her?’
‘Am I too cruel, Noor? Well I don’t care. I need cheering up, so let it be at her expense. Are you in?’
Assembly was as it always was: an irreverent spectacle that drew derision from students and teachers alike. The pseudo-Christian worship was political, implemented at the behest of the Town Council in an effort to counteract dissent on Garden Rise, where the march against political correctness gone mad had gained momentum three years earlier. Christian assemblies were the answer to the accusation that the Council had lost its spine, pandering to the demands of the waves of asylum seekers said to have been dumped in the town by policymakers in Whitehall. This was the grumpy assessment of Mr Todd, anyway, a lifelong Marxist and internationalist, who insisted on eschewing assembly daily in favour of an appointment with his beloved Golden Virginia, which he enjoyed unfiltered to help him through the day.
Anjana shared none of his cynicism, mouthing any of the words she felt she could believe in, although she never let a sound emerge, convinced that only Lata Mangeshkar had been given divine permission to sing. The out of tune piano would hammer its strings, leading the unserious voices in insincere devotion.
Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great Name we praise.[1]
During the riotous evacuation of the hall afterwards, Anjana pulled Balvinder aside and briefed her on her great idea. It would be hilarious, she told her, and it was just the thing to raise their spirits now that the birth of spring had been aborted. They would throw their jovial gathering in the face of the storms and aching chill, and emerge refreshed and enlightened, and ready for anything. It was a convincing argument, but their friend did not require much persuasion; they could all come around her house, she told them, dreaming of a merry reunion of her cousin and friends.
It would be left to Balvinder to invite their friend when she sat down beside them in the common room at the start of morning break. They felt like they had been neglecting her recently, she said. They had not seen her around much, she seemed to lament. ‘So do you want to come over?’ she asked her. ‘Maybe you need a change of scenery,’ she suggested: she should take a break from her unceasing studies; she should get out a bit, socialise and have some fun. ‘So what do you say?’ she asked pleadingly.
Satya glanced at her cousin sideways, conscious of her kind gaze. ‘That’s really… nice… thoughtful of you… but… I’m sorry,’ she muttered repentantly, ‘but I can’t tonight. I need to visit the library.’
‘Again?’ mused Balvinder. ‘You’re always in there. Don’t you think you might be going overboard?’
‘With my family?’
‘Poor Satya has to get four As,’ laughed Siti Noor.
‘General Studies doesn’t count. They’ll be happy with three. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. I have an essay to prepare for. So, yeah, sorry, another time.’
‘You mean never?’ smirked Balvinder snarkily, her voice tinged with more than a little disappointment. ‘Come on, Sats, I bet your essay isn’t even due until after Easter. Just give it a break. Spend time with us.’
Maybe she could, conceded Satya reluctantly. She would think about it. She would let them know.
‘What’s there to think about? You can’t turn us down. We’re going to have a ball.’
Munching on an apple, Satya smiled at her cousin half-heartedly, her eyes wandering across the room. Subtly, she watched as a pudgy boy slumped onto a chair over in the corner, retrieving a book from his bag, and settled down to read. She congratulated herself for his new appearance: for his tidy hair, straight tie and polished shoes. He looked healthier now, his skin glowing, his bruises all long forgotten.
Beside her, Balvinder studied Satya’s gaze, following her eyes to the other side of the room. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ she asked her with a snigger.
‘What’s that?’
‘You need to watch out, Sats.’ Glancing at each of her friends in turn, she waggled her head. ‘That creep kept looking at her nonstop,’ she told them contemptuously. ‘He’s so weird.’
‘I didn’t even notice,’ countered Satya firmly. ‘Maybe you’re imagining things.’
‘Are you joking? He can’t keep his eyes off you.’
‘Then I’m flattered,’ smiled Satya, blushing.
‘Oh don’t make me vomit,’ barked her cousin. ‘Get a grip.’
‘Why? What’s your problem with him, anyway? Other than him being gora.’
‘You think it’s because I’m racist? You know I have as many white friends as you. It’s nothing to do with him being white.’ Balvinder glanced around her companions. ‘If you want to know why I hate him, maybe you should ask her,’ she said, pointing at their friend.
‘Me?’ spluttered Anjana. ‘How should I know? You’ve hated him for as long as I remember.’
‘Oh, God, Anjana, are we still playing this game?’ Balvinder stared at her intently. ‘Who is that prick? Who’s his dad? Who’s his uncle? Who’s his family? What do they stand for?’
‘Who cares?’ spat Anjana. ‘He’s not guilty of their sins.’
‘Like I’m talking about their crimes. You know I’m not. You know I’m talking about what he did to you.’
‘Oh shut up,’ moaned Anjana.
‘And that right there, Sats, is exactly why you steer clear of that guy. He treated Anjana worse than shit, but still she insists on defending him.’
‘I’m not defending him.’
‘God, Anjana, I’m thinking of doing my psychology project on Stockholm syndrome and making you my primary case study. What’s wrong with you these days? It’s like you’ve forgotten everything he did.’
‘I haven’t forgotten anything,’ cried Anjana, jumping to her feet. ‘Just shut your mouth,’ she added, charging away from her friends, thumping out through the rear door.
‘What’s up with her?’ begged Satya, glancing after her.
‘That’s what happens to people who get mixed up with that idiot and his family.’
‘Don’t say that,’ breathed Siti Noor, ‘he’s nothing like the rest of them. You know that.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. He’s worse. At least with the rest of them, what you see is what you get. But him? What do they say? Beware the wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
‘Are you still talking about Ben?’ queried Satya, unsure.
‘Who else? Think about it, Sats. His dad’s a notorious racist, but he’s always trying to hang around with Asians. Ask yourself why. Why do you think Siddique doesn’t talk to him anymore? Because he worked out what that idiot’s up to. I heard they utterly hate each other now. Am I surprised? What, after what he did to Anjana? No, not at all. He just used her and then he threw her away.’
‘You know that’s not true,’ said Siti Noor.
‘Oh, you’re worse than Anjana, Noor. Completely blind.’
‘Maybe she’s right,’ muttered Satya. ‘As far as I know, Ben doesn’t even get on with his family. He thinks his dad’s an idiot. He hates him.’
‘That’s the gospel according to Ben,’ laughed Balvinder, ‘which bears no relation to reality whatsoever. Believe me, I know that gaze of his: the way he kept looking at you in class. I’ve seen it before. Yeah, so be careful, or you’ll be next.’
‘The next what?’
‘The next he’ll use and abuse for his own twisted desires,’ averred Balvinder, nodding. ‘Seriously, Sats, be on your guard.’
Momentarily, Satya glimpsed back across the room at the boy who had behaved in class just as Balvinder had said. It was true that his gaze had settled on her face numerous times, but she had not read his eyes as her cousin had. To her, they told a story not of lust, but of melancholic distress. It was the return of the gaze she remembered from January, and she wondered what it meant. She feared that something was suddenly playing on his mind, and now it was playing on hers too.
‘I’m going to find Anjana,’ she muttered, finding herself back on her feet. ‘See if she’s alright.’
‘Oh, she’ll be fine,’ chuckled Balvinder, ‘she just can’t take the truth, that’s all.’
‘Or maybe you should just stuff it,’ suggested Satya, hurrying away, abandoning them once more.
The trouble with this school, lamented Anjana, was that there was nowhere to go for a moment’s privacy. All the time, she would meander along the same corridors, ascend and descend the same stairwells, find a seat in the canteen briefly or, in better weather, a place on the bench outside. It was a boring, tired vista, adding to the monotony of life; there was nowhere to escape to, though plenty to run from.
‘What’s going on with you?’ asked Satya, stopping her by her locker.
‘I was going to ask you the same question,’ she murmured.
Stepping closer, Satya surveyed her friend’s frowning face. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No,’ choked Anjana, wiping the flood of tears away with the back of her hand.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Again: same question. What are you up to?’
‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘Seems things have changed for you. You’re much happier than you were a few weeks ago.’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘Well you weren’t exactly Little Miss Sunshine, were you?’
‘Yeah, because that would make me big, round and yellow,’ she quipped.
‘Which reveals all your secrets…’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Your new sense of humour: it tells me everything. Must be serious if it’s rubbing off on you already.’
‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
Anjana watched Satya invidiously, taking in her friend’s new confidence: the way she stood tall now, the way her face beamed with a permanent smile. She looked haughty, proud of herself for something. Compared to a couple of months ago, when there had been such anxiety and insecurity, now all there seemed to be was ecstatic glee.
‘You’re cracking Ben jokes all the time. I recognised them ages ago. Anyway, I know: I know you’re hanging around with him. Yeah, but not at school, obviously. It’s a secret, right?’
‘Maybe.’
’But not really. Because you’re doing a rubbish job at hiding it. Noor knows. I know. Bal’s on the verge of working it out. Who next? Your sister? Your brother?’
Taken aback, Satya floundered a little, perplexed. She had been so careful, she thought.
‘Tell me something, Satya, are you allowed to date?’
‘We’re not dating.’
‘Oh, yes, sorry, forgot,’ she snickered. ‘Well, are you allowed to do whatever it is you’re doing that’s definitely not dating even though that’s exactly what it looks like?’
‘We’re just friends.’
‘Yeah, great, whatever. Same question. Is just friends allowed in your family?’
Gawping back at her friend, Satya shrank. ‘Why are you acting so hostile suddenly?’
‘Just worried about you.’
‘No need. I’m not doing anything wrong.’
‘Why’s it all a big secret then?’
‘That’s not me, it’s him. He made me promise not to tell anyone.’
‘Yeah, he told me.’
‘He told you that?’ asked Satya, bewildered, ‘Why?’
‘Not sure, to be honest,’ shrugged Anjana. ‘No, I admit I asked him. Couldn’t help it.’
‘What did he tell you?’
‘Same cover story. He told me you’re helping him with stuff.’
‘And that’s true. It’s not a cover story. That’s how it started, anyway. I just wanted to help him sort himself out. Showing him how the laundrette works. Teaching him some easy recipes. He wasn’t looking after himself properly.’
‘You mean you made yourself his social worker?’
‘I know it must sound pretentious to you, but it’s been good for me. I feel like I have a purpose again. He needed my help, but, more than that, I needed his.’
‘So that’s all it is?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Just curious. Interested in your life. You know, like friends normally are.’
‘I don’t know. If that’s all it is, I mean. Because…’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, me, personally: I like him. A lot, actually. Never thought I’d hear myself say this, but really, he’s great.’
‘Great?’
‘Well, yeah, he’s so funny. He tells me all these stories of really terrible things that have happened to him, but the way he tells them, he makes them sound hilarious. I was in hysterics the other day and it was only when I was walking home that I started to think, actually, that was awful. I’d be so bitter, but he just turns it into a big joke.’
‘Yep, that’s Ben,’ sighed Anjana. ‘So it is serious?’
Satya glanced through a window at the blizzard outside as it hurled yet more sleet to the ground. ‘He’s nothing like my cousin makes out,’ she muttered finally. ‘I really like him.’
‘In a romantic way?’
‘To me, it feels so special. I feel like this is what I want.’ Something resembling a smile cracked in the corner of her mouth. ‘Only… only he’s constantly telling me we can only be friends. He goes cold on me if I talk about more than that, even if I’m just joking.’
‘Does he tell you why?’
‘Not really, but I have an idea.’
‘You do?’ exhaled Anjana.
‘I think my brother’s put the fear into him.’
‘Oh.’
‘But I keep telling him my parents wouldn’t mind.’
‘And they wouldn’t?’
‘No, I don’t think they would.’
‘You sure?’
‘Pretty sure. Because, well… My dad chased after my mum when he was younger than me: she was in the year above him at school, but that didn’t deter him. When he asked her out, she laughed at him and told him she wasn’t looking for love, but two years later, they were married. She was the girl of his dreams, and she was going to be his. He’s told us this story so many times and I’ve always taken it to mean we shouldn’t worry what they think.’
‘So why’s your brother threatening Ben then?’ asked Anjana.
‘What, he told you that too?’
‘No, Noor did,’ she said, gazing at Satya timidly. ‘I’m just trying to make sense of things. What’s your brother’s problem with him?’
‘His problem isn’t with Ben, it’s with me.’
‘He’s the one your brother’s been harassing.’
‘Yes, but only because I made him mad. I told him I had more respect for Ben than him. Made him crazy.’
‘So it’s jealousy?’
‘More resentment, really. Because you know about my family, don’t you? I told you.’
‘You mean money problems?’
‘Yeah, that. Well, it turns out it’s a more serious than I thought. My dad’s virtually bankrupt. We’re on the verge of losing the house. My mum’s working a load of different jobs and about three shifts a day to keep us afloat. She’s always exhausted, and so permanently cross, annoyed with my dad.’
‘But what’s that got to do with you and your brother?’
‘There’s a master plan, Anjana. It’s been set in stone since 1990. I told you about that too.’
‘Your law degree?’
‘Bingo! And who’s paying for everything?’
‘Your dad?’
‘Nope. Not anymore. Guess again. Rhymes with mother.’
‘Your brother?’
‘You’re a genius! And do you think my brother wants to work evenings and all weekend to put me through uni? Of course not.’
‘So it’s just resentment? That’s all it is?’
‘Pretty much,’ shrugged Satya, ‘That’s the main reason he’s constantly doing battle with me. Nothing to do with Ben, really.’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘I just wish I could get Ben to see that,’ she added wearily, ‘because when I’m with him, I feel so happy. So alive. It’s such a change from life at home. We’re like two tribes these days: me and dad versus the rest of them. Yeah, except dad’s never there, so it’s just me versus them really. And I can’t bear it. I just want to get out.’
Listening to her, Anjana shared a reticent smile, wrapping her arm across her back. ‘Oh well, Satya,’ she murmured, ‘your secret’s safe with me. Just don’t do anything stupid.’
‘Like what?’
‘Maybe Ben’s right. Just be friends, yeah?’
‘You’re saying being more than friends would be stupid?’
‘Could be. Depends on your family, doesn’t it? Maybe check out those assumptions of yours. Find out. These times may not be as enlightened as you think. You know what Bal’s like; there are a lot of people about with views like hers: black, white and Asian alike.’
‘These are the 1990s, not the ‘50s,’ she replied confidently, ‘It’s not South Africa. We’ll be alright. I just need to convince Ben of that.’
‘Hence you turning down our invitation? I assume the library story’s just an alibi.’
‘No, I am going to the library,’ she insisted.
‘On your own?’
‘Yes, I’m going on my own.’
‘And when you get there?’
‘I don’t know, it’s a public library. I can’t help it if other people are there too, can I?’
‘You’re too smart for your own good. But like I say: be careful. If Bal finds out who else is using the library this evening, you know it’s going to be like the end of the world. Maybe you should just give it a break like she said. Spend some time with your friends too. We’re missing you, you know?’
‘I don’t know. My cous annoys me these days.’
‘We all annoy each other these days,’ replied her friend, ‘we’re all getting on each other’s nerves. That’s why we all have to get together and fight it out. Come on, Satya, forget about your sham essay prep. Let’s all hang out together for a change.’
‘I’ll have to talk to Ben.’
‘Are you kidding me? You don’t need his permission.’
‘I’m not talking about permission. If he goes and I don’t…’
‘Maybe he’ll get some work done.’
‘No, but I should let him know.’
‘Oh, you’re so thoughtful…’
‘I’ll write him a note,’ muttered Satya. ‘Would you pass it onto him for me?’
‘A note?’ winced Anjana, suddenly annoyed. ‘No, not me,’ she cried, steaming off, ‘Ask someone else. Leave me out of it.’
