Air (or Have Not Have)

Kwan unfolded a blue, official-looking piece of paper. I told Faysal Haseem that. But you know how he is: "Uh, you charge twice, you try to trick me, I no pay you!"' Kwan did a remarkably good job of imitating him. 'So I didn't tell him again. The first month's bill is fifty riels.'

Mae felt nothing; or rather, she felt a balancing that left the scales at zero. 'We need him as an ally.'

'What I was going to do, was let it get to one hundred and twenty-five riels, and then say: "My husband's company will cover these costs. Even though we warned you. We will do this if you write off the loan to Chung Mae."'

'That was very kind,' said Mae. She could imagine it: Sunni's face held like it was fragile porcelain as Mae kept the money without paying it back. She could see Faysal Haseem glower.

And she could see herself in debt to Wing Kwan in other ways.

'We will drop all this rivalry,' said Mae. In the end you had to support your own against the government, or even the telephone company.

Kwan smiled, pleased, 'I thought so.'

Sunni's TV set was on even at eleven at night.

It flickered in Mr Haseem's courtyard, showing a fashion parade. Mae hid her smile. Is that as far as Sunni had got with it? To choose picture shows?

Only one person was watching. Mrs Ali turned in her chair, saw Mae, and blinked.

'Good evening, Mrs Chung,' Mrs Ali said after a moment.

'Mrs Ali.' Mae bowed. 'I wish to speak to Mrs Haseem-ma'am.'

Mrs Ali considered. 'I will tell her you are here.'

'I will need to talk to her alone,' said Mae.

Mrs Ali did not respond, except to push her chair back and walk into Sunni's kitchen.

In the courtyard, the Talent chattered. 'It would seem that bright colours once again adorn fashion in the West. Could it be our own local Green Valley designers are in the lead?

Mae heard real voices murmuring in the kitchen. She heard the rumble of Mr Haseem, but she judged he would stay out of this unless there was some kind of argument. If there were some kind of argument, it would give him an excuse to be abusive. He would not wish to take part without that chance.

Mae was not here to apologize. She was here to get both sides to see sense. And out of that sense, to get advantage for herself.

Mrs Ali was in the kitchen doorway, outlined in electric light. 'Please come in,' she said in a quiet voice. She stood away from the door, and reassured Sunni's whining dog as Mae approached. Mae gave her a polite nod, and entered Sunni's room.

A modern stove had replaced the old brazier. It seeped raw gas. There were new white curtains in the tiny windows and a new metal top to the sink. All of these things meant fresh expense. Sunni sat behind her table, perfect as always, her hair a motorcycle helmet of crisp, hard shellac. She looked tense, insecure and arrogant. Mae found in herself a strain of pity for her, and brought that to the surface.

'Hello, Sunni,' she said.

'I hope it will be more of a pleasure to have you in my house than it was the last time.'

Mae gestured: May I sit? Sunni nodded yes, dismissively.

'Last time, both of us were angry. Both of us said things. I find life moves quickly these days. That night seems years ago now.'

Sunni made no reply. She certainly did not agree.

'I find after the events of this morning, that we have more in common than the disagreements which divide us.'

A brief moue flickered across Sunni's face; it was true, but it did not please her.

'We could cooperate for the common good. We both need the village to be prepared for what is to come. A possible agreement is this. We both do all we can to help our neighbours learn to use this new thing. In the meantime, both of us are free to pursue our commercial interests.'

Sunni was not really up to this kind of bargaining. Mae was well aware that she was talking like a man. It was the only way to avoid the pits of emotion on either side and keep all the issues separate.

'You speak as if we were in politics,' said Sunni, finally.

'Do you not think that we are? You and I both value the future. We are rivals, yes. But we certainly do not want the TVs destroyed. Both of us are intelligent women from the same village, and we do not want our village to fall behind.'

'That is true,' agreed Sunni.

'There is something else,' said Mae. 'Something I did not know until today.'

'And what might that be?' Sunni sounded unimpressed. She perhaps thought Mae was trying to be mysterious.

'There are telephone charges for using that thing.' Mae pointed into the courtyard.

From the courtyard, breathless commentary in a piping female voice continued: 'Again we see a new trend towards colour. Modern women have found time for joyful expression.'

'I know,' said Sunni.

'Do you know how much?'

Sunni's face was blank. 'I am sure my husband does.'

'They are always on the lookout for special touches, something new which makes even the simplest dress different, expressing a new facet of their personality.'

'After a year, it could be as much as six hundred riels.' Mae paused, waited.

Sunni was very good. She did not flinch, she gave no sign. She began to sweep nonexistent crumbs of food from the table into her cupped hand. Still in silence, she raised her eyebrows as if to say: So? What is your proposition?

'For example, this dress expresses the model's interest in Third World issues.'

Mae took the plunge. 'Mr Wing can ensure that you do not have to pay them. He can arrange things so that they go to his account and the government will pay them.'

Sunni's visage did not alter in any respect.

'In exchange he wants the warfare between us to stop.'

'There is no warfare.'

'Sunni,' warned Mae.

'No, there is none.'

Mae quoted Sunni's leaflet. '"Now that certain parties have been uncovered as offering false advice…" That is what you wrote about me, Sunni. It is one thing to set yourself up in business. It is another to call me a fraud and to invite your friends to mock me.'

'I will remind you of a certain incident on your screen,' said Sunni, darkening.

'Indeed. I have not forgotten. That is part of the war. It must stop, Sunni. While we play village games, the world is beating down our door. While we try to destroy each other, it will destroy us.'

'I will demand a full public apology,' said Sunni.

'I will demand that we both apologize to each other in public. At the same time. That way everyone knows: The TV people are united.'

'And I will need individual assessment of what you say about charges.'

Mae nodded. 'I can bring the government man here. No, Sunni, not to make trouble, please hear me out. I can make it look like a friendly visit. And you can ask him yourself: "The TV is new." I will say you have just bought it. "What kind of charges would I pay?" '

More crumb-sweeping. There was hurt behind Sunni's eyes.

'There is one more thing, Sunni. The loan. The terms of the loan will change. It becomes interest-free.'

And this was something Mae was keeping from Kwan. She did not want to be beholden to Kwan.

Sunni went still altogether. 'You know I cannot agree to that by myself.'

'You can perhaps talk to your husband.'

'I will see.'

'Just remember, Sunni, the bills mount up, all the time that thing is on.'

Sunni sighed. Oh, it was like wearing the wrong-size shoe, for her to be in a weak position. She was not used to cutting losses.

Sunni said, 'I could always have a word with the Central Man and mention to him whatever it is Mrs Wing and Mrs Shen are making.'

'Oh!' groaned Mae, in utter weariness. 'I am talking about an alliance that will benefit everyone. And you threaten me! Sunni, how can the village learn, if it has to ration the TV? Two machines will be much better than one. Can't you see? We both win, if we agree to this. Or, yes, we can both lose. Badly, very badly. Perhaps one of us will go to jail. But which one of us will be beloved in the village, Sunni, if you are known to have betrayed Mr Wing to the government?'