9.5
At least he seemed happy to see her, she thought, when she arrived. Following him into the house and through to his living room, she recounted everything that had happened since they had last parted company, the retelling drawing tears from her eyes. ‘This is how my brother treats me these days,’ she sobbed, not for the first time, ‘He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t.’
‘Don’t I know it?’ muttered Ben, watching her from the other side of the room, standing deliberately aloof.
From her place, perched on the edge of his sofa, Satya lowered her gaze, pushing her glance towards the floor. ‘I wish you‘d hold me, Ben,’ she sighed, scared of the gaze that would return. ‘I want more than this. You don’t have to keep being this noble gentleman. Can’t we be more than just friends? What if what he said was true? Would it really be so bad?’
Peeking up at him, she saw how he stared back at her, his pupils enlarged. She first thought it a good sign, only to recoil as he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but I’m not ready.’
‘Ready for what? What are you scared of?’
‘A lot of things, actually. I’ve told you about my family. I know I call my dad an idiot, but the reality: he terrifies me. And my cousins? Yeah, they terrify me too. But that’s not even the half of it.’
‘You’re still worried about my brother?’
‘I’m afraid of what he’ll do,’ he said restlessly. ‘Not so much to me. I’m used to that, I guess…’
‘Are you worried about me?’
‘Not just you,’ he murmured, his eyes slumping on his face.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘I’m happy just being friends. It’s enough for me. Please, let’s not make life any more complicated than it is already.’
‘But what if I want more than that?’
‘More comes five years from now,’ he told her rashly. ‘When your parents introduce you to a nice solicitor.’ A moment later he regretted his haste. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘that was harsh. But it’s true. You have ambitions. You have a plan. Don’t screw it up because of me. Just look at me. I’m fat and ugly. You deserve some handsome Indian guy, not a spotty geek like me.’
‘You don’t know what I’m looking for, Ben.’
‘Not me, that’s for sure.’
‘I’m looking for a good heart. And that’s what I’ve found in you.’
‘No,’ he sighed, ‘I’m messed up.’
‘You’re not. You have what I seek.’ Satya stared at him earnestly. ‘I know my own heart and it tells me you have what I’m looking for. And that’s why… that’s why I want to be with you.’
‘Satya, just look in a mirror. It would be like Beauty and the Beast. You’re too pretty for someone like me. It wouldn’t work.’
Her cheeks blushing, Satya felt her heart skip a beat. She could not help the grin that appeared on her face. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, ‘I’ve always thought myself ugly. What I’d give for the beauty of Kajol.’
‘Who’s she? Why not say, thank goodness you don’t look like your cousin?’ He laughed out loud as he said this. ‘I think she must live in a house without mirrors because she calls me fat without the slightest trace of irony.’
Satya stopped herself from sniggering with him but smiled at him nonetheless. ‘Do you really think I’m pretty?’ she asked.
‘I don’t want you to get a big head,’ he laughed.
‘Well I think you’re good-looking too,’ she told him. ‘I don’t think you’re ugly at all. Not that that’s what’s most important to me.’ Satya smiled back at him thoughtfully, desperate for her eyes to convey her heartfelt affection. ‘If you’re worried what people will say, don’t be. I don’t care what people think. I’m not going to give up on you because of what people say.’
Lumbering about, Ben pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘It’s not just what people will say,’ he told her. ‘It’s what they’ll do. I’ve crossed paths with your brother before. I’ve no reason not to take his word.’ To Satya, he looked defeated.
‘So that’s it then, is it?’ she muttered dejectedly. ‘That’s all?’
At last, Ben shuffled over to her and dropped onto the sofa at her side. ‘Don’t be angry with me,’ he whispered, gazing at her, ‘Why do you think I was pushing you away from the start? You’re the one who insisted.’
‘I know,’ she said, studying the carpet once more, ‘because I need you.’
They remained motionless for almost six minutes, the long silence drawing on both of them, causing an awkward discomfiture within. Satya wished that Ben would give in and embrace her, allowing her to rest her chin on his shoulder, her soft hair brushing the side of his face. Ben wished that Satya would say that she understood, that this was just a passing moment—a transient vulnerability—that she would move on and forget about him. Strangely, he wished that he was the geek again, the loser, the reject, the idiot, the freak: he wished that he was nothing to her.
‘Are you angry with me for telling them I’ve been with you?’ she began suddenly, just as those words began to colonise his tongue.
‘Not angry,’ he stuttered a few moments later, ‘Just scared.’
‘I was going to tell a fib, but in the end, I knew I couldn’t.’
Ben glanced at her seriously, contemplating the passage she had thought important enough to read aloud from the crisp white page of her embossed volume just last week. ‘The highest faith is the pursuit of truth, and higher still to live truthfully,’ he recalled, ‘That’s what you told me the other day. Why do we have to lie? It’s not what you want.’
His answer enabled a smile to form on her face. ‘Thanks, Ben,’ she said, her fingers landing on his arm.
‘Yeah,’ he muttered, ‘just tell the truth.’
Satya watched as he sauntered across the room and knelt down before the second-hand record cabinet under the bay window, fingering the sleeves in search of an album fit for his mood. This record player, purchased from the arcade in the old town in 1989, he mused, was his last remaining prized possession, saved from dispatch to the pawn shop only because he had convinced his mother that it be worth five times the price by the year 2000. He still remembered the day those three porcelain flying ducks on the wall were wisped away to fund a week’s electricity supply in November. He felt fortunate at having persuaded her that his slim collection of music was utterly worthless and so obscure that nobody would pay a penny for it. He had played two tracks of Aswad then, blasting her with horns and weird dub, watching as she retreated, wandering off in search of something else to convert into cash, like a rolling pin or the dining room table.
Setting his selection on the turntable now, he scratched the needle across the vinyl in search of the third groove and set it free. As the changing chords squeaked from the speakers, the metronome clicking, Ben’s gaze wandered out of the window and far from his companion.
Too many Florence Nightingales
Not enough Robin Hoods
Too many halos not enough heroes
Coming up with the goods
So you thought you’d like to change the world
Decided to stage a jumble sale
For the poor, for the poor [2]
Satya was not listening to the lyrics, nor moved by the melody. ‘Is it me or the music?’ she asked instead.
‘The music,’ he replied instantly, turning back to her and returning to the sofa, where he sat down on the corner of a sagging cushion. ‘No, actually,’ he said, ‘it has nothing to do with this. I’m just a million miles away.’
Drawing him closer to her, she looked into his eyes. ‘Talk to me,’ she murmured.
Ben shrugged his shoulders. ‘You know your cousin’s right about me, don’t you?’
‘What? No, she’s not. Why are you saying that?’
‘You really shouldn’t get mixed up with me and my family. I have nothing to offer you. Nothing that will please your family.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Your dad’s a good man. Don’t break his heart.’
‘My dad?’
‘He has a good plan for you. You’re going to be a solicitor. Maybe you’ll marry one too. You’ll have a good life. You can be middle class and happy.’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Just look at me, Satya. I’m living in a freezing cold house. I haven’t seen my mum in weeks. I’m surviving on handouts. The electricity meter’s about to run out. I’ve been looking for a job, but there’s nothing. I get nowhere. So what’s left? I have no choice but to go back to my dad.’
Satya stared at him sympathetically. ‘Why are you being so pessimistic suddenly? Don’t let today get you down.’ Studying his weary face, she offered him a benevolent smile. ‘I’m happy to lend you money,’ she told him cheerily, ‘I have some Giro savings. I’d only spend it on another outfit I don’t need. I’ll top up your meter.’
At her side, Ben let out a heavy groan. ‘But why, Satya?’ he asked her. ‘You have your whole future ahead of you. You just need to study and get that place at uni you’ve always dreamed of. Why are you messing about with me?’
‘Because I like you,’ she replied emphatically. ‘Right now, I feel like you’re my closest friend. I feel I could tell you anything. You’re the only person who treats me kindly these days. You were there for me when I was at my lowest. That means so much to me.’
Listening to her, Ben exhaled a lungful of air. Satya wanted everything: she wanted to be an ear and have someone close to be hers; she wanted someone to show affection to, someone to nurture and someone to nurture her. She wanted so much more than this, so, so much more. Silently, she prayed within, seeking help from beyond herself. Help for him and help for her, together as one if possible.
Examining her companion’s face, Satya pondered something: an idea that had darted across her mind as if from nowhere. ‘Ben,’ she blurted out loud, ‘would you celebrate my birthday with me on Thursday? I don’t think that’s a day I want to be at school. I can’t face it. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ll have to skip school that day, for my sanity, if nothing else. So… So would you do something with me?’
‘Skipping school?’
‘It wouldn’t really be skipping school. Just avoiding birthday bumps.’
‘Probably an egging too,’ laughed Ben.
‘Oh don’t. It’s so gross. The more I think about it, the less I feel bad about giving school a miss that day.’
‘So what do you have in mind?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘Something special.’
‘Well you know the way to my heart is through my stomach,’ he chuckled, ‘so if you want to prepare a great feast, I’m all ears.’
‘Well there is a big Sikh festival this Sunday, so maybe you’re onto something. It seems to be the season for stuffing your face, everything coming along all at once. Noor had Eid last week. I heard it’s Holi on Saturday. Then there’s Easter too. Oh, how I wish my family would make it special for us. Maybe I should mark Hola Mohalla with you instead. What do you say? I feel like dressing up.’
‘I’ve never heard of it. Describe it to me.’
‘If only I could. My family never marks these things; they put up lights at Christmas, but our own festivals just pass us by. I have visions of it in my mind, but it’s mostly just fantasy. There’s singing and chanting and poetry, and great feasts. And martial arts.’
‘I think I’ve had enough martial arts this year to last me a lifetime,’ quipped Ben sullenly.
‘Then how about Holi?’ she suggested, surprising him. ‘I think it must be the loveliest festival on earth. I saw photos of their celebrations in the National Geographic in the library once. I’d love to take part in that.’
‘Would you really do that?’ asked Ben warily. ‘Wouldn’t that be against your beliefs?’
‘Me? No. Not at all. In my mind, they’re related somehow. And anyway, I think theirs is a rather romantic religion. Don’t you? I’m sure Anjana told you all about their traditions.’
‘Not really. I’d say she’s more of a Muslim than the Muslims,’ he said, smiling at the thought of it. ‘You know her mum’s a Christian, don’t you? And her dad: he’s a seeker. So what does that make him? A Sikh maybe?’ He wondered then if there was something wrong with him, perpetually pontificating on Anjana’s behalf. ‘Anyway, we’ve talked about this before,’ he shrugged, ‘Maybe she’d embrace sanatana dharma. Maybe. I don’t know. But all the myths and superstitions piled on top? Definitely not. No way.’
‘Well, I’d borrow Holi quite happily,’ she enthused. ‘Yes, we must borrow it. The festival of colour. Let’s be real Indians for a day. You must be up for that.’
‘I don’t know,’ muttered Ben.
‘Oh, go on,’ she said. ‘Let’s say goodbye to these dreary dark days of winter. Let’s welcome spring. Let’s have some fun for once.’
‘Well, I suppose…’
‘Go on, Ben: say yes. It’s my birthday, and it’ll make my day.’
‘I know I’ll regret it.’
‘You’ll regret saying no,’ she grinned, her eyes begging him fondly. ‘Please Ben, if only to save me from those awful birthday bumps.’
Listening to her, the boy sighed loudly, shaking his head. ‘Well, I suppose it won’t be the end of the world,’ he conceded. He mulled over her proposal for a moment. ‘Ah, well,’ he murmured, ‘I suppose… For you… Yes, anything for you.’
‘Hurrah,’ exclaimed Satya excitedly, ‘what merriment! I knew you’d come through for me.’ Grinning at him enthusiastically, she hugged him by mistake . ‘Leave everything with me, Ben,’ she cried, ‘I’ll sort everything out. It’ll be just perfect.’
[1] A Christian hymn known as Palestrina by Walter Chalmers Smith, based on 1 Timothy 1:17.
[2] Song: Flag Day, by The Housemartins, from their 1985 album London 0 Hull 4.
