Читать книгу Being Kari - Qarnita Loxton - Страница 6

There I was in Di’s guest bathroom, dripping wet, broken-hearted, naked, and with alcohol in my veins when my phone started up again. Buzzing buzzing buzzing. I imagined it was Dirk. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Fucking phone Eva, why don’t you? I wanted to scream. But Di went to look at it and handed the phone to me. “Do you want to answer it? It’s not Dirk.”

10:05 PM Dhanyal Home the screen flashed.

Now? Ten years. No brother or home has lit up any screen of mine for ten years.

“Dhanyal?” I said, holding the phone against my wet face. Was it really him?

“Salaam, Karima. Listen, something’s happened here tonight.” Dhanyal’s voice was clear and calm and direct. “I was still at the surgery when Shireen phoned to say she thinks Ouma had a heart attack. Ouma is dead, Karima. Mama fell down the stairs when she saw Ouma lying on the floor so Mama hurt herself also. She can’t walk but she is fine. Anyway, Mama said I must phone to say you must come tonight still. The janazah will only be in the morning but the washer ladies are coming soon so you must come help wash the body. You are the only granddaughter, so Mama says you must come.”

Dhanyal waited just a second or two before he asked, “Karima?”

Is it really Dhanyal? My brain on repeat. It wouldn’t even go to the Ouma is dead part.

“Karima!” Louder now. “Mama says you must come.” As a doctor, being patient was clearly never going to be his thing. As always, he talked first and listened only to hear if I got the instruction. From the blankness in my brain the prayer came out my mouth.

“Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.”

Seriously. No jokes. How the hell did that happen? Ten years away and I had no words, no thoughts, no clothes even. Just the prayer I had learned at madrasah. Where had it been hiding? Where did that prayer live that it could just come out like that? But all I had was that prayer; it was the only thing I had to say.

It’s not supposed to be like this! I wanted to shout it out. Even now, hours later, I want to shout it out. Ouma started the Valentine’s Day thing for me. Probably the only Muslim granny anywhere who sends – used to send – Valentine’s cards to her granddaughter every single year. You are my Valentine forever, my girlie. I love you! she would write, and laugh at my mother’s mouth squashed into a very un-Valentine’s stripe. It’s just for the fun, Amina! And for the love, for the love. Don’t forget! she’d say. When Rafiq, my boyfriend from down the road, got in on the act, he and Ouma would laugh and plot Valentine’s while the rest of us rolled our eyes. I always rolled my eyes, but I always loved it and they always knew. It’s just for the love, for the love, Karima!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Ouma wouldn’t want it to be like this. V-Day was already as VeryFuckingAwful as it could be. I was ready for it to end, to cry myself to sleep in Di’s guest bed. But this was V-Day Ground Double Zero.

Even with the shouting in my head, I knew I would go home to help the washers prepare her body for the funeral in the morning. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un. Surely we belong to God and to Him shall we return. It’s just for the love, for the love, Karima! I heard her laughing. In the same way I knew that prayer, I already knew I would go home.

“Yes, Dhanyal. Tell Mama I will come.”

“Okay, good. I must go, there are things to do,” Dhanyal said. He was not done yet. “There are a lot of people here already so better to come alone. And wear a scarf at least.” He didn’t wait for me to agree. It was already the longest day in the history of humankind anywhere on the face of the planet. In the universe. Had to be. And clearly it was just the beginning.

It was as if that prayer snapped the on-switch in my brain. Dirk slept with Eva. Ouma was dead. I had to go home and see everyone, see Mama, for the first time in ten years.

Ten whole years since I ran away from them all.

As usual, whenever my world goes pear-shaped, I focus on the most important thing. The most important thing was obvious: yoga clothes were not going to cut it.

I knew not everyone would get it. “Are you serious?” Di said when I stuttered that I had nothing that was right to wear. How can your clothes be such a big deal? Your husband is a bastard and your gran is dead. Oh, and now your mother wants to see you for the first time in ten years? Just get your damn yoga kit on and go, Kari! I know that’s what Di meant when I told her. There’s nothing wrong with them – the clothes, I mean. Soft stretchy three-quarter pants and a tank top with soft built-in bra. Purple with neon pink trim. They fit me, and it’s not like it’s a camel-toe show or anything, but rocking up there like that? I might as well have arrived with two heads and sitting on an actual camel. I needed other clothes.

And a damn scarf.

So before I could go home, I had to go home. To where Dirk was.

Talk about the longest day ever.

I put my keys and phone down next to the heart chocolate cake. Jeez, did I really make that this morning? It felt like it was years ago. Upstairs I heard the shower stop and then Dirk came rushing down in clean shorts but with his chest and legs wet, and his hair slick from the shower. He stopped just short of touching me. He stood still, but rushed his words to me. “I am so glad you came back, so glad. I didn’t know if I should come get you at Di’s. I drove past and saw your car but I didn’t know if I should come in. You didn’t answer my calls so I thought maybe I must just wait.” Then, more slowly, “I know I must wait. I know this is so shit. I can’t believe what I did. I understand if you want to leave me.” For the second time in one day I saw my husband cry. It was more than the whole time we have been married. “But please don’t leave me. Please, let’s just talk. Let’s talk first. I will do anything you want.” And, for the first time in a long time, “I love you. I am so sorry. I just want to be with you.”

His eyes were red and his face was puffy and swollen like a giant doll, with words and tears tumbling out of a wobbly head, the rest of him just hanging down.

“Kari? Please can we sit? Can we talk? I’ll do anything you want. We can go for counselling? Anything, Kari. Anything,” he said, words tripping over each other again.

Looking around I saw that Dirk had got things together a bit since I ran. There was no more puke. A strong smell of that expensive eco-friendly kitchen cleaner he always bought. The tiles were clean and dry. He had even tidied away the mixing bowls that I meant to load into the dishwasher, and had put food out for Marsh. The table was still laid for two. Just the candles on the coffee table were out. I wondered if he had cleared away the rose petal heart on the bed upstairs.

“My brother Dhanyal phoned to say that Ouma died of a heart attack tonight.” I just blurted it out. “Look, you know Muslims wash their own dead and then bury them within twenty-four hours? They want me to come help and get ready for the funeral in the morning.” It was easy not to answer him, not to talk about Eva. At least with Ouma I knew what I had to do.

“Ai, Kari.” His eyes were round with shock and sadness, and I knew it was real. “I am so sorry. That is terrible. I know you loved her very much.”

Even now, as angry as I am with him and with all that I don’t know about him, somehow I think there is still one thing that is true about Dirk. It’s weird, I guess, but I believe Dirk is always straight with me. He doesn’t say things just to make me feel better; he tells the truth even when I don’t like it. He will not lie to me now, not about Ouma, I am sure. Dirk never knew my ouma, but I believe he really was sorry for what I lost. Ag. What do I know? Maybe I just have to believe that Dirk is still straight, otherwise how will I ever believe anything he says? How will I believe that Eva was a mistake?

That it was Just Once.

Dirk moved closer as if to hug me but ended up just touching my arm. He was afraid of me! That was a shock. I had never seen him afraid of anything before, least of all me.

First time for everything. Cheating even.

“I am just coming to get dressed so that I can go. Not sure when I will be back,” I said. It was easy to ignore everything else, to ignore the hand soft on my arm.

“I can go with you. You don’t have to go by yourself. It’s been a long night already.” I saw a please in his eyes as he talked.

“Dhanyal said to come alone.”

I threw it at him over my shoulder as I took the stairs.

Fuck you, Dirk, my ouma is not going to be your get-out-of-jail-free card.

It took a long time to find halaal clothes in my cupboard. For someone who wore her first tank top at twenty-one, her first bikini at twenty-two, how is it possible to have so many dresses without sleeves? I ended up in my long black sleeveless knit dress with a black cardigan over it. It covered my body if not my shape. Granted, up and down is not really a shape, but still a bit too clingy for full madrasah marks. Where’s that burka when you need one? God. I hadn’t thought about having to cover my shape in forever; all my clothes looked the very opposite of halaal now. Definitely haraam, not allowed at all. Too short, too tight, too sleeveless, too low cut, too everything.

Wear a scarf.

Crap. I was pretty sure Dhanyal did not mean the woolly things I use to keep my neck warm in winter, but that was all there was so it would have to work. And I only had bright colours. I wasn’t ready to try and spread the thing around on my head – it wasn’t big enough to cover all my hair anyway – so I just stuffed the scarf into my bag. I grabbed some more clothes and a toothbrush, and shoved everything into Dirk’s empty bag lying next to our bed. I would probably have to stay overnight. A roomful of shoes to choose from but no time – the shoes lying next to the bed would have to do. As I packed I disturbed the damn rose petals still on the bed. I ignored them.

Just like I ignored Dirk, who had quietly appeared and stood watching in the doorway.

“Come, let me drive you. It’s late to go by yourself and a lot has happened tonight. I don’t have to go inside; I can always come get you whenever you need me to.” Please, Kari, his eyes seemed to say to me again, Please let me.

“Yes, a lot has happened, Dirk. You had sex with Eva. Ouma died.” I wanted to be mean to him but the other stuff came out too. Big fat tears, my chest was aching-heaving-bursting, my mouth full of spit. “Ouma is dead. There is no chance of ever seeing her again, no chance now for things to just come right. It’s all over. I can never fix things with her. I can never get another chance to make it right. She is gone.” I blubbed on without words and Dirk put his arms around me. Despite myself I was glad to have him. In all our time, no matter what, every single time he put his arms around me I felt like we fitted, that we matched each other. Even if we didn’t look like it to anyone else, when I closed my eyes and felt his arms around me I felt we belonged together. But this time the feeling lasted only a minute and for the first time I pulled away first.

Those arms had last held Eva.

“I have to go. I’ll let you know.”

I didn’t look at him as I ran away from my husband for the second time on Valentine’s Day.