Читать книгу Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows: A hilarious and heartwarming novel - Balli Jaswal Kaur, Balli Kaur Jaswal, Balli Kaur Jaswal - Страница 10

Around the corner from the car park, Nikki had discovered a spot where she could hide and have a cigarette before class. Here the temple was completely cut off from her view. She shook a cigarette from its pack and lit it. Her shift at O’Reilly’s last night had felt longer than usual and she found herself looking forward to tonight’s lesson.

Nikki finished her cigarette and entered the community centre building, running straight into Kulwinder Kaur on the stairwell.

‘Oh hello,’ she said.

Kulwinder’s nose crinkled. ‘You’ve been smoking. I can smell it on you.’

‘I was standing near some smokers, and …’

‘Maybe these excuses work on your mother, but I know better.’

‘I don’t think my smoking should be your concern,’ Nikki said, straightening her shoulders.

There was heat in Kulwinder’s stare. ‘The behaviour of an instructor is my concern. The women look to you for guidance. I don’t know how they’re supposed to respect any instructions that come from the mouth of a smoker.’

‘I’m doing everything that’s expected of me in the classroom,’ Nikki said. She made a mental note to cut short the storytelling session in favour of a grammar lesson in case Kulwinder did a spot check.

‘Let’s hope so,’ Kulwinder said. Nikki wedged past her uncomfortably on the stairs and found that all the women had arrived promptly. Tarampal had chosen a seat a noticeable distance from the others. ‘Nikki!’ Sheena called. ‘I’ve written a story. It’s a combined effort from all of us.’

‘Wonderful,’ Nikki said.

‘Can you read it aloud to the class?’ Preetam asked.

‘I think Nikki should read it,’ Sheena said.

‘In a minute,’ Nikki said. ‘I’ll just set some work for Bibi Tarampal here.’

‘Don’t bother with me,’ Tarampal sniffed. ‘I’ll just be working on my A-B-C book.’

‘For what?’ Arvinder asked. ‘Don’t be such a spoilsport.’

‘I’ll learn to write soon and you’ll still be illiterate,’ Tarampal shot back.

Nikki pulled up a chair next to Tarampal and searched for the page on linking vowels and consonants. There were pictures representing each simple three-letter word. CAT. DOG. POT. ‘I don’t know all of these letters,’ Tarampal complained. ‘You haven’t taught them all to me.’

‘Do the ones you know,’ Nikki said gently. ‘We’ll work on the others together.’

Nikki was aware that the women were watching her very closely as she began to read their story. Her Punjabi was rustier than she expected and Sheena’s rushed handwriting was unlike the careful print in the books she had learned from. ‘I’m not sure if I can read this, Sheena,’ Nikki said, squinting at the page.

Sheena shot up from her seat. ‘I’ll do it then.’ She took the papers from Nikki. The other women sat up in their seats, their faces wide with anticipation. Watching them, Nikki had the dreadful sense that somebody was out to play a joke on her.

Sheena began to read. ‘This is the story about a man and a woman taking a drive in a car. The man was tall and handsome and the woman was his wife. They didn’t have any children and had lots of free time.’ Sheena paused for effect and glanced at Nikki before continuing.

‘One day they were driving along a lonely road and they were running out of petrol. It was dark outside and they were scared. It was also cold, so the man stopped the car and hugged the woman so she would stop shivering. She was actually pretending to shiver. She wanted to feel the man’s body. Although she had felt his body many times before, she wanted to be with him in this dark car.

‘He began to feel quite like a hero because he was protecting his wife. He moved his hands down her back to her bottom and gave it a squeeze. She leaned closer to him and gave him a kiss. With her hands, she also moved down—’

‘Okay that’s enough,’ Nikki said. She took the story from Sheena and told her to have a seat. All of the women in the class were giggling except Tarampal, whose face was buried in her book. Nikki scanned the page. A sentence caught her eye: His throbbing organ was the colour and size of an aubergine, and as she gripped it with her hands and guided it towards her mouth, he became so excited that his knees began to shake. Nikki gasped and dropped the pages on the desk.

The women were laughing loudly now, and their voices had begun to echo down the corridor. They reached the doorway of Kulwinder Kaur, who turned to listen but the sounds just as quickly settled down.

‘What’s the matter?’ Sheena asked.

‘This is not the type of story I had in mind,’ Nikki said.

‘You can’t be too surprised. You read stories like this yourself,’ Manjeet said. ‘You bought us an entire book of them.’

‘I bought the book as a joke for my sister!’ That said, Red Velvet had graduated from the charity shop bag to Nikki’s bedside table, from where she had no intentions of removing it.

‘I don’t get the joke. Were you supposed to buy her a different book?’ Preetam wondered.

‘She’s a bit reserved,’ Nikki said. ‘I thought the stories would remind her that she needed to lighten up, that’s all.’ Were the widows smirking? They appeared to be challenging her. She cleared her throat. ‘I think we’re done with stories for now.’

The women groaned when Nikki presented the alphabet chart. ‘Today we’ll review consonants.’

‘Oh, not that bloody thing,’ Arvinder said. ‘A for apple, B for boy? Don’t treat me like a child, Nikki.’

‘Actually “A” is a vowel. Remember? What are some other vowels?’

Arvinder scowled and said nothing. The other widows stared back blankly as well.

‘Come on, ladies. These are important.’

‘Last time you said we could do storytelling during these lessons,’ Preetam protested.

‘Right. I probably shouldn’t have said that. The fact is, I was hired to teach you all to write. I need to honour that promise.’ She glanced once more at the pages on the desk. If Kulwinder knew about this story, she’d accuse her of deliberately setting the women on the wrong path.

‘Why don’t you like Sheena’s story?’ Preetam asked. ‘I thought modern girls prided themselves on being open-minded.’

‘She doesn’t like it because she’s just like everybody else,’ Arvinder said. ‘All those people who say, “Take no notice of those widows. Without their husbands, they’re irrelevant.”’

‘That’s not what I think of you,’ Nikki protested, although Arvinder’s observation was not far off the mark. She had certainly expected these widows to be more impressionable than they turned out to be.

‘We’d be invisible in India,’ Arvinder said. ‘I suppose it makes no difference that we’re in England. You must think it’s wrong of us to discuss these things because we shouldn’t be thinking of them.’

‘I’m not saying your story was wrong. It was just unexpected.’

‘Why?’ Sheena challenged. ‘Because our husbands are gone? Let me tell you, Nikki, we have plenty of experience with desire.’

‘We talk about it all the time too,’ Manjeet said. ‘People see us and assume that we’re just filling our empty evenings with gossip but how much of that can one do? It’s far more fun to discuss the things we miss.’

‘Or what we were never given in the first place,’ Arvinder said dryly.

Laughter rippled through the classroom. This time the noise pierced Kulwinder’s concentration just as she was about to solve a row in her sudoku puzzle.

‘Keep your voices down,’ Nikki pleaded.

‘Come on, Nikki,’ Preetam urged. ‘This will be fun. I’ve got a story brewing in my mind. A more satisfying series finale to my favourite television drama.’

‘Do Kapil and Anya finally get together?’ Manjeet asked.

‘Oh, and how,’ Preetam said.

‘There are stories about men and women that I tell myself when I’m lying awake at night,’ Manjeet said. ‘It’s better than counting sheep or taking Rescue Remedy. It helps me to relax.’

‘I’m sure it does,’ Sheena said, raising an eyebrow. The women burst out laughing again.

‘Even Tarampal has some stories, I’m sure,’ said Arvinder.

‘You leave me out of this,’ Tarampal warned.

Suddenly, the door of the classroom swung open. Kulwinder Kaur stood with her arms crossed over her chest. ‘What is going on here?’ she demanded. ‘I can hear the commotion all the way from my office.’

The women were silent with shock for a moment and then Preetam Kaur said, ‘Sorry. We were laughing because I couldn’t pronounce a word.’

‘Yes,’ Arvinder said. ‘Nikki said this word in English which means “aubergine” but we couldn’t say it.’ The women tittered again. Nikki nodded and smiled at Kulwinder as if to say, ‘What can you do?’ She placed her palm flat on the story on her desk.

It was fortunate that Tarampal was sitting so close to the door. Her workbook was wide open and looked very legitimate. Nikki just hoped she wouldn’t say anything. She still looked gravely unhappy with the women.

‘I need to talk to you outside for a moment,’ Kulwinder said to Nikki.

‘Sure,’ Nikki said. ‘Sheena, can you please write the alphabet on the board? I’ll test you all when I come back.’ She shot Sheena a stern look and followed Kulwinder outside.

Kulwinder fixed Nikki with a stare. ‘I hired you to teach these women, not stand around telling jokes,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what they’re doing but it doesn’t look like learning.’

Through the window, Nikki could see the women staring at the board and Sheena dutifully writing the letters. Tarampal was hunched over her desk, working her pencil hard into the paper. She looked up to check the roundness of her D against Sheena’s on the board. ‘Nobody said learning couldn’t be fun,’ Nikki said.

‘This job requires a degree of respect and professionalism. Your respect is clearly questionable because you’ll smoke on temple grounds. I have high doubts about your professional standards.’

‘I’m handling the job just fine,’ Nikki said. ‘I’m doing exactly what you asked of me.’

‘If you were, then I wouldn’t have to remind you to keep the noise down. You realize, don’t you, that any small misstep means that these classes could be shut down? As it is, we have very few participants.’

‘Look, Kulwinder, I get that you want these classes to go well but I didn’t realize I’d be under constant surveillance. The women are learning. You need to back off and let me do my job.’

A storm cloud seemed to take over Kulwinder’s expression. Her lips became menacingly thin. ‘I think you’re forgetting something very important,’ she said, her voice suddenly low and steady. ‘I am your boss. I hired you. You should thank me for taking you on even though your only skills were pouring drinks. You should thank me for coming here to remind you to remain focused. You should thank me for letting you off with a warning. I didn’t come here for a discussion. I came here to remind you of your responsibilities, something you are clearly lacking. Understand?’

Nikki swallowed, hard. ‘I understand.’ Kulwinder looked at her expectantly. ‘And thank you,’ Nikki whispered. Tears of humiliation burned in her eyes.

She waited for a few moments before re-entering the classroom. The women’s eyes were wide in anticipation. Even Tarampal was looking up from her book.

‘We have to get back to work,’ Nikki said, blinking furiously.

Thankfully, there were no arguments. Arvinder, Tarampal, Preetam and Manjeet accepted an exercise on consonants. Sheena practised writing a persuasive speech. While the women worked, Nikki couldn’t help replaying the humiliating confrontation in her mind. She told herself that Kulwinder probably chastised everybody but her harsh words had hit a raw nerve. Your only skills were pouring drinks. Lacking responsibility. Here Nikki had been trying to steer the women back towards literacy to avoid getting into trouble but did Kulwinder recognize her efforts? It didn’t matter if Nikki did the right thing. It was still wrong.

The time passed quickly while Nikki was lost in her thoughts. Even her fights with Mum didn’t leave her feeling so helpless. If Kulwinder was like this as a boss, imagine what she had been like as a parent to her rebellious daughter. Nikki glanced at the clock.

‘Is everybody finished?’ she asked.

The women nodded. Nikki took up the consonants worksheets. Arvinder’s wobbly handwriting made her H’s look like M’s but she had persisted until Z, slashed across the lines like a lightning bolt. Preetam’s handwriting was more precise but she only reached J before time was up. Manjeet had ignored the consonants entirely, choosing instead to write A E I O U at the top of the page as if revising what she had learned before.

What was there to do besides feeding more worksheets to the women, more rote practices? This reproduced string of alphabets looked as uninspired as any other monotonous task that filled these widows’ days. If they continued on this path, the women would stop showing up. Nikki could already sense their restlessness. As she scanned the worksheets, a debate clamoured in her mind. She’d been hired to teach English, yes, but hadn’t she only signed up because she thought she’d be empowering women? If the widows wanted to share erotic stories, who was she to censor them?

‘You’ve all worked very hard today,’ Nikki said. ‘These practices are good.’ She handed the worksheets back to the women. Then she smiled. ‘But I think your stories would be better.’

The women looked at each other and grinned. Only Tarampal scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I promise to continue to teach you how to read and write,’ Nikki said to her. ‘But the rest of you are welcome to bring in your stories. We must make sure to be very quiet from now on though.’

‘See you on Tuesday,’ Sheena said on her way out the door.

‘See you all then,’ Nikki said. ‘Oh, and if you see Bibi Kulwinder, remember to say thank you.’ And fuck you, she thought.

The following Tuesday Nikki made sure to leave time for the quick odour-neutralizing routine she had practised to perfection as a teenager. Pre-cigarette, it involved pulling her hair back into a bun and taking off her jacket to avoid clinging smoke smells and then, after, a dose of extra-strong mints and a spray of extra-strong perfume.

Nikki was in the middle of her perfume bath when a face appeared and then flitted out of her view. ‘Sorry,’ the man belonging to the face said. She only caught a glimpse but she noticed that he was cute. A moment later, she stepped out of the corner and saw him leaning against the wall.

‘It’s all yours,’ she said.

‘Thanks,’ he said, ducking in. ‘I just needed to make a phone call.’

‘Sure,’ Nikki said. ‘Me too.’

‘No, you were clearly smoking. It’s not very good for you,’ he said as he lit his own cigarette. ‘You really shouldn’t.’

‘Neither should you.’

‘True,’ he said. ‘Is it just me or do they taste even better in hiding?’

‘Much better,’ Nikki agreed. As a teenager, she used to smoke in the park behind her house, her adrenaline surging each time she saw Mum or Dad’s silhouette crossing the window. ‘Especially when your parents are within sight.’

‘Ever got caught?’

‘No. You?’

‘Oh yeah. It was bad.’ Nikki watched as he took a long drag of his cigarette and stared into the distance. His attempt at being mysterious came off as cheesy but surprisingly, she liked it.

‘I’m Nikki,’ she said.

‘Jason.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that an American name for a Punjabi boy?’

‘Who says I’m American?’

‘Canadian?’ Nikki asked. She definitely detected an accent.

‘American,’ Jason said. ‘And Punjabi. And Sikh, obviously.’ He gestured at the temple. ‘And yourself?’

‘British and Punjabi and Sikh,’ Nikki said. It had been a long time since she identified herself in all of those terms at once. She wondered if this was what the widows thought of her, and in which proportions.

‘So what’s your real name?’ she asked Jason.

‘Jason Singh Bhamra.’ Jason squinted at her. ‘You look surprised.’

‘I was sure it was an anglicized version of something else.’

‘My parents gave me a name that Americans could pronounce as well. They were forward-thinkers in that regard. Like yours, I’m assuming.’

‘Oh no,’ Nikki said. ‘I just don’t tell people my full name. It’s only on my birth certificate. Nobody uses it.’

‘Does it start with an N?’

‘You’re not going to guess it.’

‘Navinder.’

‘No.’ Nikki was already regretting lying about her name. It just seemed more interesting than the truth: “Nikki” meant little and she was a younger sibling so her parents had decided it was apt.

‘Najpal.’

‘Actually—’

‘Naginder, Navdeep, Narinder, Neelam, Naushil, Navjhot.’

‘None of the above,’ Nikki said. ‘I was kidding. My real name is Nikki.’

Jason smiled at her and took another drag of his cigarette. ‘That was a missed opportunity. I was going to say “if I guess it, will you give me your number?”’

Oh dear, Nikki thought. More cheesiness. ‘Well, I don’t think anyone can pull off trying to pick up girls in dodgy alleyways.’

Jason tipped his cigarette packet towards Nikki. ‘Another one?’

‘No thanks,’ she said.

‘Your phone number?’

Nikki shook her head. It was instinctive. She didn’t know this Jason Bhamra. She snuck another glance at him, noticing the slight cleft in his chin. He was cute.

‘It’s the principle of the thing,’ she explained, hoping he would ask again. ‘We’re at the temple.’

‘Damn,’ Jason said. ‘You have principles.’

‘I’ve got several. I’m thinking of adding “no smoking” to my list but it’s hard.’

‘It’s nearly impossible,’ Jason agreed. ‘A few years ago I tried quitting smoking, and then I settled for quitting drinking instead. I thought I’d get points for eliminating one vice.’

‘You don’t drink?’

‘I lasted a week.’

This made Nikki laugh. Then she saw her chance.

‘Have you ever been to O’Reilly’s pub in Shepherd’s Bush?’

‘Nope. I’ve been to the pub on the Southall Broadway though. Did you know you can pay in rupees there?’

‘That’s not very useful if your salary is in pounds.’

‘True. This O’Reilly’s pub then …’

‘No rupees required. I’m there most evenings. For work, not because I’m an alcoholic.’

Jason’s grin was rewarding. ‘So you’re there this week?’

‘Most evenings,’ Nikki said. As she walked away, she felt his gaze on her back.

‘Nikki,’ he called. She turned around. ‘Is it short for Nicole?’

‘It really is just Nikki,’ she said. She held back her smile until she was out of his view. Their encounter left her skin tingling, as if she was walking through a light mist.

‘I’ve got a story by Manjeet,’ Sheena said as soon as Nikki entered the classroom. ‘The one she tells herself before going to bed.’