The Cry of the Dove: A Novel (25 page)

Liz was bedridden. Her tummy was swollen, her arms were bruised and she looked as pale as the old wallpaper. I heated some soup out of a can, sliced some bread, placed them carefully on a large tray and took them to her bedroom. I knocked on the door and she said, `Come in, Janki ayah.'

I placed the tray on the bedside cabinet carefully and noticed that her black-and-white wedding photo with the intricate silver frame was nowhere to be seen.

She was still wearing the same sullied white cotton underwear. I pulled her up and put the pillows behind her. The silver box with the foul cream was under the pillow She looked up at me and smiled. The yellow of the butter that I scraped off her face had seeped into the whiteness of her eyes. I placed the tray in her lap and smoothed the dirty duvet.With trembling fingers she held the spoon and tried to scoop up some soup. After a few attempts she put the spoon down defeated so I sat next to her on the bed and began feeding her like a child. She swallowed the soup with difficulty and looked up, `Is Hita making coconut ladoos, ayah?'

`Yes, Liz,' I answered.

`Yes, Upah,' she said.

She drank half of the soup and slid back under the duvet exhausted. I ran my hand over her straight grey hair and said, `Do you want me to contact anyone? Shall I call your niece?'

`Where is Charles?' she asked. `Still in the country?'

`Yes, ma'am,' I said.

Running, running also," shouted Sadiq from across the street. `Where go? Stock Exchange market? The price of your shares falling?'

`Good morning to you too,' I shouted back.

`Or going to your English boyfriend?'

`I don't have an English boyfriend. I am a Muslim,' I said and smiled.

`All coconuts have English boyfriends. Muslims by name only,' he said.

`There are Muslims and Muslims,' I said.

`There are one Islamic,' he said.

I crossed the street and stood by him on the pavement in front of his shop. `What do you want me to do to prove to you that I am a Muslim? Pray five times on your doorstep?' I said.

`That would be nice also,' he said and sniggered.

`I love the new hairdo. It's like the crest of a rooster,' I teased.

He jerked his chin sideways and said, `Don't be smart aleck also. Just because you crossed the road to university just once does not make you professor,' he said and pointed towards the hill.

`How is the wife and kids?' I asked.

`As fine as can be expected. No good being apart,' he said.

I held his right hand then released it.

He pressed his forefingers at the corners of his eyes, smiled and said, `My tummy ache. I've been having too many hamburgers and I fancy a curry, yaar.'

`Falafels are bad for you,' I said and smiled.

`I can try,' he said, winked, slanted his head sideways then ran his hand over his gelled hair, destroying the carefully constructed upward-tilting fringe.

PARVIN'S FACE, THE TEAR-SHAPED PEARLS AROUND THE low-cut draped neckline of her silk cream dress and the crystals and pearls embedded in the rhinestone leaves and flowers of the tiara glowed in the faint light of the setting sun. Dark, regal and composed in her silk sheath she held the sword handle with Mark ready to cut the cake. He said something to her. She smiled, looked up and kissed him on the cheek. His parents, Sarah and Jenny his sisters, relatives and young friends cheered them on so they counted to three and sliced the cake in one swoop destroying the waltzing lilac bride and groom made of icing sugar. The aunt in the large bright red hat with white flowers said, `I made it myself. Parvin chose the colours. They must be the colours of the prairies of Pakistan.'

`Don't be ridiculous. She is British,' said Mark's mother.

Earlier his mother was suppressing her tears when the registrar read a poem entitled `Himalayan Birch', which Parvin had chosen for the occasion.

A single slim trunk

Branches that bow in a storm

Green, leathery leaves with a soft centre

Glittering against blue sky

White bark scarred, bleeding

Heart wide-open

Bandaged, but upright she stands ...

Parvin looked at me through the veil and smiled. I lowered my gaze, breathed in, composed myself then looked up and smiled back. She kissed me on both cheeks the way we do and walked next to Mark holding his left hand. The hook was pressed gently against her back when she walked to the decorated sports car outside. They waved to us then drove off jingling their way down to married life. Mark's mother's flushed face gleamed in the faint light of the dusk. `I am so glad he found happiness after what he has been through,' she said and wiped her face with her embroidered lace handkerchief.

I was filling up so I said, to stop myself from crying, `Ma'am, it's a glorious sunset!'

Speechless she nodded her head and squeezed my hand.

She was emerald, turquoise encased in silver, Indian silk cascading down from rolls, acacia honey in clear glass jars, fresh coffee beans ground in an ornate sandalwood pestle and mortar, the scent of turmeric, a pearl in her decorated dias, a single white jasmine, standing there alone, head high, with nothing to prop her up except his artificial hand.

I could only see a faint light in the hallway of the Reed Hall, but the surrounding grounds were dark with the and oiled legs and realized that I was free at last. Gone were the days when I used to chase the hens around in wide pantaloons and loose flowery dresses in the bright colours of my village: red to be noticed, black for anger, green for spring and bright orange for the hot sun. If this small glass bottle were full of snake venom I would drink it in one go. I dabbed some perfume behind my ears and on my wrists, took a deep breath, tossed my no longer braided and veiled hair on my shoulders, pulled my tummy in, straightened my posture and walked out of Swan Cottage, which was the name Liz had chosen for her semi-detached house. I filled my chest with the clean morning air, inflating my ribs until my back muscles were taut and raw. I could see shreds of blue sky between the luminous white clouds that stretched out in different shapes: the mane of a horse, a small foot, a tiny, wrinkled hand like a tender vine leaf that has just burst open.

The cathedral in the distance looked dark and small. The feeble English sun was trying hard to melt away the clouds. I walked past the student residences, past the large white houses with neat gardens and barking dogs, past HM Prison. I looked at the high walls, the coiled barbed wire, the small barred windows, and realized that this time I was on the wrong side of the black iron gate despite my dark deeds and my shameful past. I was free, walking on the pavement like an innocent person. My face was black as if covered with soot, my hands were black and I had smeared the foreheads of my family with tar. A thick, dark, sticky liquid dripped from the iron railing I was holding all the way to the walkway. I shook my head trying to chase away the foul smell and looked towards the Exe. jittering, stomach convulsing, hands and legs trembling, I rocked my body rhythmically to my grandmother's burial song, `Where is his grave? Where is his dagger? Where is his face? Bring me a lock of his hair!' she chanted when she heard that her father had died, scooped more sand in her hands and scattered it all over her head and body. A cloud of dust with a black centre. `Where is my daughter? Is she alive or dead? My eyes are hungry for her face! My ears are tuned to one call, "Mama", my nose sniffing for her scent. Bring me a blanket she had wrapped herself in, shoes she had worn, a lock of her hair!' I chanted. A hazy cloud with a mauve centre.

Crossing an unknown river far from my dwelling I observed the demeanour of horses, looked deep in the shadows in the distance and watched the movement of trees. I listened for feet crunching dry needles and scales. Suddenly I felt human breath on the back of my neck.

`Mahmoud?' I sobbed.

Gwen straightened her apron, tucked her short hair behind her ears and said, `He did not know they were rubies. My father I mean. He brought those dusty stones with him all the way from South Africa and put them in his workshop in the garden together with other pebbles and pieces of steel. One of his friends had told him that he got the rubies from a miner and wanted him to have a few so he had put them in the pocket of his winter coat and forgot about them until he arrived in Swansea.'

She buttered a scone, put it on a fine plate and passed it on to me.

`You see he forgot about them again until one day when he was looking for his binoculars he saw them on the shelf hidden in a brown paper bag. He held one in his hand and began filing it to see whether it was a ruby or just a rough stone from the mines. He couldn't find anything that resembled rubies under the grey surface of the gemstone. He continued cleaning, filing, scraping all afternoon until he got fed up and threw them all on the floor. Later on he discovered that rubies must be cut in a certain way to get to their red heart.You know, Salina, he spent most of his later years looking for the rubies on the floor of his workshop, the shed, the garden, everywhere. I would watch him through the window on his knees looking for the damn rubies'

She paused for breath, drank some tea and said, `A few weeks before he died he found one. Yes, he found one rough ruby.'

I felt the warmth of a soft jacket on my shoulders so I looked up and saw a familiar face that I couldn't place. `Mahmoud?' I sobbed.

`No. It's me, John,' he said and wrapped me in his jacket.

`John who?' I asked.

`John Robson.Your tutor,' he said.

Suddenly my tummy muscles convulsed and I threw up on his legs and shoes. I was shaking, breathless, ill. `Toilet,' I wheezed.

He lowered his shoulder until it was under my arm, balanced himself and pulled me up. I was about to pass out when I finally felt the ground under my bare feet. He helped me walk across the lawn, up the stairs, through the door, down the corridor to the ladies' toilet. I stood there disorientated until he said, `Go in!'

Another surge of nausea made me run to the toilet, stick my head in it and throw up again. I don't remember how long I sat there on the cold tiled floor, how long before I heard his voice call,'Sally! Sally! Are you all right?' I placed my hands on the toilet seat and pushed myself up. When I was finally able to walk to the washbasin I could not see half of my face in the mirror; as for the other half, it was covered with dry leaves, mud and grass, my eyes were swollen and red, my hair was half tied up, half loose on my shoulders, and Gwen's dress was smeared with green and brown streaks. I washed my face several times with soap and water, unpinned my hair and wove it into a braid, and gulped loads of water straight from the tap. A flickering light blotted out my right eye. I steadied myself and walked out slowly.

John was sitting on one of the sofas reading a newspaper. My black bag, shoes and pipe were on the floor. He stood up and said, `Are you OK?'

`I think it's a migraine,' I said.

`There are bedrooms upstairs. I can call the duty porter and get you one,' he said. He folded the newspaper and stuck it in the rack.

`I still have the keys to Parvin's room. She wanted me to pack her stuff.'

`You can stay there till ten o'clock tomorrow morning,' he said, held my hand and led me up the carpeted stairs. I unlocked the bridal wing and he helped me get in and placed my bag and shoes on the floor. The bed and two armchairs were covered with T-shirts, jeans, make-up, rollers, hairpins, underwear, towels. I placed my hand on my tummy and sat on the bed. The nausea was coming back. `I'll go and get you something for that,' he said and rushed out. I took off Gwen's dress to see whether it was damaged and how it could be repaired, put on my jeans and T-shirt and lay on the spacious bed. John was back with a tray full of stuff. I could see half of his face, his bloodshot eye, his goatee, his slipping glasses. `Some yoghurt, herbal tea, a bottle of water and a tablet for your migraine, madam,' he said and placed the tray on the bedside cabinet. I was too embarrassed to look at him so I kept tracing the ink lines of the painting of the Japanese lady on the wall. Strangely enough I ate the yoghurt, drank the tea, took the bright pink pill. Sitting on one of the armchairs he watched me eat. `Can I get you anything else, Sally?' he asked.

`Salma,' I said. I slipped under the white sheet and blanket, turned round and went to sleep.

`My father returned home in nineteen fourteen because of the political threat from Germany and was at first in the cavalry, but was not sent abroad. He was then put on the drawings of the first tanks and his brother Archie was one of those working on the construction. Winston Churchill came to watch the first trials and my uncle swapped the wellingtons Churchill wore for the occasion for those he wore and is said to have handed his own over to the people asking him for the wellingtons Churchill wore! I don't know what he did with the originals. Knowing him, he probably sold them later on! For the last part of the war my father was in the Fleet Air Arm on airships and I also have photos of the airship carrying a plane slung below it. These were experiments to try and help aircrafts fly over Germany carrying bombs and still have enough fuel to fly home again.'

Gwen stopped talking, stood up and went to the bedroom then came back with a black umbrella. When she opened it the handle was made of a rusty, uneven piece of metal.

`Believe it or not, it's part of an airship,' she said.

Liz was in no condition to cross-examine me. She was still in bed. I made us some porridge, two cups of tea and took the tray up to her bedroom. It was messier and stuffier than ever before. Her dirty clothes were scattered on the floor, some cold pizza was rotting on a plate, and the dark red stains on the beige carpet were dry. It smelt of dust, lavender soap, denture cleanser and medication. I pushed the bundle of letters on the bedside table and the silver box to one side and put the tray down. Liz woke up, looked around with her yellowing eyes and said without dentures, `That'll be all. Thank you.'

`I thought we might have breakfast together," I said hesitantly.