He bored her, he knew he bored her, but he couldn’t stop. She tried to interrupt. ‘Changez, I – ’
‘Auntie Jeeta is selling good food now, since I converted her to new lines.’ His voice rose. ‘She is old-fashioned, but I am saying follow the latest trends which I am discovering in magazines. She is becoming enthusiastic with my guidance. She walks naughty Leila in the park while I organize shop!’ He was almost yelling. ‘I am installing mirrors for the detection of criminals!’
‘Excellent, Changez. Please don’t shout. My father would be proud of you. You’re –’
There was movement. I heard Jamila say, ‘What are you doing?’
‘My heart is beating,’ he said. ‘I will kiss you goodnight.’
‘OΚ.’
There was a sucking noise, followed by a complacent, ‘Goodnight, Changez. Thanks for looking after Leila today.’
‘Kiss me, Jamila. Kiss my lips.’
‘Um. Changez –’ There were physical sounds. I could feel his bulk in the room. It was like listening to a radio play. Was he grabbing her? Was she fighting him off? Should I intervene? ‘Thanks, Changez, that’s enough kissing. Haven’t you been serviced by Shinko lately?’
Changez was panting. I could imagine his tongue hanging out; the exertion of assault was too much for him.
‘Karim stirred me up, Jammie. I’ve got to explain this to you. That little devil bugger –’
‘What’s he been saying?’ Jamila asked with a laugh. ‘He’s got problems, we all know that. But he’s a sweet boy, too, isn’t he, his little hands pawing things, his eyebrows fluttering about – ’
‘He’s got tremendous personal problems, as you say quite rightly. I am beginning to think he is totally perverted too, the way he likes to squeeze my body. I explain to him, what am I, an orange? I say – ’
‘Changez, it’s late and –’
‘Yes, yes, but Karim for once was saying something with meaning.’
‘Really?’
Changez was desperate to say this, but he paused for a few seconds and held his breath, unsure whether he was making a mistake or not. Jamila waited for him.
‘He said you’re a female lesbian type and all. Jamila, I couldn’t believe my hearing. Rubbish, you bastard, I told him. I was ready to blow him off the earth. That’s not my wife, is it?’
Jamila sighed. ‘I didn’t want to have this conversation now.’
‘That’s not what you can be doing with Joanna, is it?’
‘It’s true at the moment that Joanna and I are very close – very fond of each other.’
‘Fond?’
‘I can’t think that I’ve liked anyone as much for a long time. I’m sure you know how it is – you meet someone and you want to be with them, you want to know them deeply. It’s passion, I suppose, and it’s wonderful. That’s how I feel, Changez. I’m sorry if it –’
He shouted, ‘What’s wrong with your only husband here and available that you are turning to perversion? Am I the one single normal person left in England now?’
‘Don’t start. Please, I’m so tired. I’m so happy at last. Try and accept it, Bubble.’
‘And all you here in this house, you good types, talk of the prejudice against this Yid and that black burglar bastard, this Paki and that poor woman.’
‘Changez, this is offensive, this is –’
‘But what about ugly bastards? What about us? What about our rights to be kissed?’
‘You are kissed, Changez.’
‘After the exchange of pounds sterling only!’
‘Please, let’s go to bed. There are plenty of people who will kiss you. But not me, I’m afraid. Not me. You were imposed on me by my father.’
‘Yes, I am not wanted.’
‘But you’re not ugly inside, Changez, if you want that patronizing assurance.’
He was only half listening; and he was far from exhausted.
‘Yes, inside I look like Shashi Kapoor, I know that for sure,’ he said, beating his hand on his knee. ‘But some people are really ugly pig-faces, and they have a terrible time and all. I’m beginning a national campaign to stop this prejudice. But it should start stopping with you, here in this damn house of the holy socialists!’
There was more noise, but more sartorial than physical this time. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Look, look, aren’t I a man at least?’
‘Oh, cover it up. I’m not saying it isn’t exquisite. God, Changez, some of your attitudes to women are antique. You’ve got to sort yourself out. The world is moving on.’
‘Touch it. Give yourself a holiday.’
She snorted. ‘If I need a holiday I’ll go to Cuba.’
‘Touch it, touch it, or –’
‘Let me warn you,’ she said. And not once did she raise her voice or show any sign of fear. There was irony, of course, as always with Jamila, but complete control, too. ‘Anyone can be removed from this house by a democratic vote. Where would you go then, Bombay?’
‘Jamila, wife, take me in,’ he moaned.
‘Let’s clear the table and take it into the kitchen,’ she said softly. ‘Come on, Colonel Changez. You need rest.’
‘Jamila, I beg you – ’
‘And I wouldn’t let Joanna catch you waving that mushroom about. As it is, she suspects all men of being rapists, and seeing you doing that she’d know it was true.’
‘I want love. Help me –’
Jamila continued in her detached way. ‘If Joanna saw you doing this – ’
‘Why should she see? For a change it’s just you and me together for a few precious moments. I never see my own wife alone.’
I was shifting about uncomfortably. This voyeur stuff was getting to be too much for me. In the past I’d been happy to look in on others’ love-making. I’d virtually watched it more than I’d done it; I’d found it educational, it showed solidarity with friends, and so on. But now, as I lay there behind the sofa, I knew my mind required more fodder – bigger ideas, new interests. Eva was right; we didn’t demand enough of ourselves and of life. I would demand; I would get up and demand. I was about to declare myself when Jamila suddenly said, ‘What was that noise?’
‘What?’
She lowered her voice. ‘It sounded like a fart coming from behind the sofa.’
‘A fart?’
I sat up and looked over the top of the sofa. ‘It’s only me,’ I said. ‘I was trying to sleep. I didn’t hear a thing.’
‘You bastard,’ said Changez, becoming even more agitated. ‘Jamila, I am calling the police on this damn snooper! Let me dial 999 immediately!’
He was trembling and puffing and spitting even as he secured his trousers. He shouted, ‘You have always mocked my love for Jamila. You have always wanted to stand between us.’
In fact, it was Jamila who stood between Changez and me to stop him attacking me. She escorted me upstairs to a room where I could lock the door, safe from Changez’s anger. In the morning I got up early and tiptoed through the sleeping house to the front door. On my way there I heard Leila Kollontai start to cry, and then I heard Changez talking softly to her in Urdu.
A few days later I went to see Dad again. There he was, sitting in one of Eva’s armchairs in his pyjamas, with a pallid young man on the floor in front of him. The man was intense, weepy, despairing. Dad was saying: ‘Yes, yes, this whole business of living is very difficult.’
Apparently these kids from Dad’s classes were always turning up at the flat, and he had to deal with them. This he considered to be ‘compassionate activity’. He was now saying that, for the sake of ‘harmony’, each day of your life had to contain three elements: scholarship, compassionate activity and meditation. Dad was teaching this several times a week at a nearby Yoga Centre. I’d always imagined that Dad’s guru business would eventually fall off in London, but it was clear now that he would never lack employment while the city was full of lonely, unhappy, unconfident people who required guidance, support and pity.