Sunjeev Sahota - The Year of the Runaways

She took the money from him, and then Avtar crouched down too. His was a much thinner roll than Randeep’s. It seemed to Narinder a pitiful amount for someone to be left with, after nearly a year in this country, and as the money passed between them she looked up and saw his embarrassment only deepen.

*

Narinder reread the letter she’d composed the previous evening. It contained nothing she hadn’t already told them — that she was fine and would be back soon. On the other side of the door, Randeep and Avtar were talking. Something about a track and Hari’s roommate and it being only a one-man job. And then the door closed. She rose a little off the end of her bed and saw Avtar jogging down the hill, rucksack bumping against his shoulder. Only three days left, she reminded herself. Then they’ll be gone. She set the letter underneath her pillow and went out into the main room. Randeep looked up, miserably, his mouth dismaying her with its self-pity.

‘Bhaji’s got a job.’

‘Oh. But that’s great, isn’t it?’

He looked back at his phone. ‘I guess. I’ve got to stay here and go through our contacts again.’

Gurpreet was still asleep, an empty bottle held lovingly to his chest.

‘I keep asking him not to drink here,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and she wished she’d not mentioned it.

She took a cloth and some polish from under the sink and returned to her room. He could hear the spray can. Housework. It was the least he could do, so when she came to make a start on the kitchen he took the can from her.

‘You don’t have to,’ she said.

‘I’d like to.’

‘Well, OK, but why don’t you go pick up some meter tokens? We’re running out. The shop’s—’

‘I know the shop.’ He looked at her. ‘You forget I got you your first tokens. The pink ones, remember? Not the white ones.’

‘I do. You were very kind to me. You even cleaned the whole place. Thank you.’ She glanced to the floor as she said this, as if she’d not always been as kind to him.

He checked that Gurpreet was still asleep, then smiled unconvincingly at Narinder. ‘I won’t be long.’ She heard him running down the stairs.

She picked up the can and sprayed a line across the kitchen table. She’d just finished polishing the table legs — was she the only person in the world who did that, she wondered — when she saw Gurpreet staring at her.

‘You’re awake,’ she said, standing up, suddenly self-conscious.

He sat up, the settee succumbing with a groan, the empty bottle still in his hand. ‘Sorry, sister. But carry on. It’s so nice watching you put the shine on those legs.’

She moved away to the worktop, applying polish to the counter at roughly equal intervals. She heard him put the bottle on the coffee table.

‘You should get a telly,’ he said. ‘You won’t be so bored, then.’

‘I have enough to occupy my time.’

‘Hmm. Well, there are other ways I can stop you from getting bored.’

She turned round, twisting her body. ‘You have no right to speak to me like that.’

‘Why don’t you tell me about my rights, sexy sister? Come here and tell me everything.’

‘Stop. You either stop, or leave.’ She realized her hands were trembling.

‘All calm and godly on the outside. But there’s a proper little fire going on — ’ his eyes moved to a point past her waist — ‘down there.’

‘I said, stop it!’

He was grinning as he stood up and she thought she was going to yell when Randeep walked in. He had milk and a loaf of bread in one hand, keys in the other, and put all three things on the dining table.

‘The tokens are in. And I thought we’d have toast,’ he added, looking from Narinder to Gurpreet, back to Narinder. ‘Everything all right, Narinderji?’

Very calmly, she put down the cloth, then the spray can, and went into her room.

‘What did you do?’ Randeep asked, and Gurpreet pitched up his shoulders and threw his arms in the air, as if to say, Women!

She re-emerged in her coat. ‘I’ve got a letter to post and then I’m going to the gurdwara. I’ll be back by the evening. I don’t think he should be here when I return.’

‘And who’s going to throw me out? Your chamcha here? Just remember, one phone call from me and your little game is over.’

‘Shut up!’ Randeep said.

She took her lilac chunni from the hook. Randeep waited until he heard the front door close.

‘Did you touch her?’

‘Maybe. Maybe she’s angry because she let me.’

‘She wouldn’t go near you.’

‘Give me the change,’ Gurpreet said, palm out.

‘There wasn’t any.’

‘Get me some money, then.’

Randeep ignored him and put the milk and bread in the fridge. Behind him, Gurpreet entered Narinder’s room.

‘What are you doing?’ Randeep said, coming to the doorway.

‘What’s it look like?’ and, half clothed, he got into her bed. ‘That bhanchod settee. Narrow as a cat’s tongue.’

‘She told you to get out.’

But Gurpreet only turned over, his head vanishing under one of the soft pillows.

Randeep ate his toast, dry. He should have thought to buy some butter, maybe jam too. Then he sat down and sent perhaps four or five half-hearted messages before he felt his eyes going and promised himself it’d only be a very short nap. He was woken by a clattering sound from the other side of Narinder’s door.

‘You up?’ Randeep said, walking in.

Gurpreet was kneeling at the foot of her wardrobe, the drawers all tipped open, her clothes crashed to the floor on their coat hangers. The bedside cabinets lay upended, ransacked.

‘Are you crazy!’ Randeep yelled.

‘She’s got to keep her money somewhere.’ He was shaking again, wiping his runny nose along his arm. He shoved past Randeep and into the kitchen.

‘Just get out!’ Randeep shouted, as he started righting her cabinets, picking the lamps off the floor. Her shrine would have to be rebuilt. ‘You’re going to ruin it for all of us!’

He could hear him in the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards, cussing, crockery rattling. And then, silence. Randeep listened. Perhaps he had found the money? But no, because here was Gurpreet’s voice, loud with an intimation of controlled hilarity, as if he was reciting: ‘ A beautiful flat for a beautiful person. And a new start for us both. . ’

Randeep ran into the room.

‘7 am at your service day and night. And night, eh?’

‘Give it here.’

Gurpreet held the note high and away.

‘It’s mine,’ Randeep said, stretching, but Gurpreet moved the thing behind his back.

‘I’m sure dearest Narinderji would love to see this.’

‘She probably already has, OK? So just hand it over.’

‘What’s it worth?’

‘I’m not giving you money.’

‘Oh, I think you will. Because think how embarrassed you’ll be when she sees it. When Avtar sees it. They’ll think you’re an even bigger loser than they already do.’ He turned, walking away, sashaying his hips, and brought the note up to his face. ‘If I may be of any assistance. .’

Randeep ran at his back and sent Gurpreet tripping to the ground. There was the dull crack of his head hitting the coffee table. Randeep stepped back, swallowing. Gurpreet lumbered to his feet, a trail of blood near his left eye.

‘You’re dead.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Randeep said, and raised his hands.

One punch to the side of his face threw Randeep to the floor, onto his hands and knees. The shock made it hard to breathe. He could feel a red throbbing somewhere. Everything seemed tilted on its axis.

‘I’m sick of rich cunts like you having it so cosy all the time.’ He heard Gurpreet’s voice, distant. His hand seemed to be on the back of Randeep’s neck. He had a faint revelation that that was why he couldn’t breathe.