Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

‘We’re brothers.’ Dad pointed at Gabriel. ‘He’s the eldest.’

She bit her lip. ‘What can I get you?’

‘What d’you think I might like?’

‘I’m run off my feet,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

‘You come on. We’re artists.’

‘Piss artists.’

‘That’s funny. Say it again. Go on.’

Dad wouldn’t stop looking at her. Gabriel ordered hot chocolate and cheesecake for both of them.

Dad watched her go, before saying, ‘What we should do is this. We should see what the picture is worth.’

‘What do you mean — what it’s worth?’

‘I think we’re in business. We could get a reasonable price for it.’

‘For this picture?’

Dad nodded.

Gabriel said, ‘Didn’t Lester give you any money?’

‘Did you want me to humiliate myself by asking? I’m a musician not a beggar. But we could do something with this.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘To be honest, Gabriel, this separation from your mother has run me into a few problems of a financial nature.’

Gabriel thought of the man who had threatened his father, pushing him against the wall so that Dad hit his head and hurt his ear. Perhaps he would do the same thing again, today.

His father said, ‘Years ago I was in a group with a man who now has restaurants full of rock memorabilia — gold discs, photographs, guitars, all that old tat. Young people can find interest in an old pop star’s trousers. This picture is recent and it’s original. I reckon he’d pay a lot for it. I’ll take it to him now and see what he says.’

Dad started to roll up the picture.

Gabriel said, ‘Right now?’

‘I think it will be open. We’re rocking here, boy. That’s the thing about life — there are some opportunities you can’t let go!’

‘Listen!’ Gabriel slammed his hands down on the table. ‘Listen, Dad.’

His father looked shocked. ‘What’s the matter, Angel?’

It was a difficult situation. Gabriel didn’t know what to do. He had an idea. If he contacted his brother, Archie would — surely — supply a solution to satisfy both Gabriel and his father.

For a moment Gabriel closed his eyes but heard nothing.

Dad touched his son’s face. ‘Gabriel, are you awake?’

‘Yes. But wait —’

Perhaps Gabriel was trying too hard. After a moment he heard the clear calm voice of his brother. Gabriel listened and nodded to himself. You could rely on Archie, sometimes.

Dad was slipping the rubber band around the picture. ‘Let’s go. The restaurant isn’t far from here.’

‘No, Dad.’

His father looked up. ‘What?’

‘The picture is mine.’

‘Yours? Of course it’s yours. But haven’t I given you everything? What do you think I’m trying to do here?’

‘Lester gave it to me .’

Dad rolled up his sleeves. ‘Look at these scratch marks! I almost got murdered carrying that picture away! That crowd wanted to rip off my clothes and eat me!’

‘He didn’t give it to you.’ This was the hardest conversation of Gabriel’s life. In Archie’s voice he said, ‘I’ll keep it a few days.’

‘A few days!’

‘I want to look at it. Let me enjoy it.’

His father was looking at him in annoyance. At last he nodded and handed the picture to his son.

‘You’ll bring it back to me?’ he said. ‘You can’t leave such a valuable object just lying around the place. I wasn’t intending to sell it, if that’s what you think.’

‘What were you intending to do, then?’

‘Get an estimate of its value, that’s all.’

‘I’ll give it back to you. I promise.’

‘That’s pretty magnanimous of you.’ said Dad, sarcastically, ‘bearing in mind we wouldn’t be in this poverty-stricken situation right now if you hadn’t talked so much to Lester about your precious drawings. You forced the poor man to pretend to be interested —’

‘It was Lester who did it,’ said Gabriel. ‘He was talking to me.’

‘You led him on. It was disgraceful, ungrateful behaviour! I wish I hadn’t taken you, you little idiot!’

‘Calm down, Dad —’

‘He hardly said two words to me. I’ll be lucky if he even mentions my name in his memoirs! It was my great chance and what happened? We came away with a rotten picture you won’t even let me have!’

Gabriel got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned the picture was still lying on the table. Dad wasn’t in his seat.

He had backed the waitress, still holding a heavy tray, into a corner, and was talking to her while writing something on a piece of paper which he slipped into the pocket of her apron. She was looking about anxiously, as if Dad were a prickly hedge bearing down on her, and she sought a gap to dash through.

‘Dad!’ Gabriel called.

Dad turned; the woman scooted away.

‘Oh, I’m in a better mood now,’ said his father. ‘She took my phone number! There’s one thing that women like —’

‘What’s that?’

‘They like men who want them, who have a passion for them. You remember this. See how interested she is in me.’

‘Are you sure she wasn’t about to call the police?’

‘What makes you say that? What are you saying? That I’m a dirty old fool?’

‘Dad —’

‘Is that it?’ His father’s face looked as though it had been turned inside out. Dad could flirt, but he couldn’t charm. ‘You’re right. That’s me — an old man!’

‘In a way.’

‘Does it show?’

‘Now and again.’

‘The light is bright in here.’

‘Dad —’

Dad dug his fingers into his own stomach and pulled at the rolls of flesh. ‘You reckon I should do a few press-ups?’

‘At least.’

‘What possessed me suddenly? It was hope! Stupid hope! Gabriel … I’ve been so lonely!’

‘Do you miss Mum?’

‘She listened to my monologues, as she called them. All the time we were together she had at least half an ear open to me. I have so much to tell her … Except that she doesn’t want to hear me. She got rid of my furniture!’ Dad glanced back at the waitress, now secure behind the counter and looking determinedly in the other direction. ‘I s’pose most of us spend most of our lives trying to control our desire for other people.’

Gabriel took his father’s arm. ‘I’ll see what I can do with Mum, Dad.’

‘Oh yes, thank you. At least we’ve got this,’ said Dad, tapping the picture.

They were leaving; the manager approached them with the bill.

‘You still haven’t paid, sir.’

Dad looked startled and patted his thighs with both hands, as though he were playing a strange percussion. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ was the accompaniment. ‘These trousers don’t have pockets.’

Fortunately, Gabriel had some money that his mother had given him the day before.

At the end of the afternoon Dad took Gabriel home. They hadn’t even reached the gate when Hannah opened the front door and stood there regarding them both.

‘Hello,’ said Dad.

‘Mr Bunch,’ she said. ‘Day nice.’

‘Say something else to her, Dad. Something funny.’

‘What for?’ said Dad.

Gabriel kissed his father’s cheek. He smelled of shaving foam and himself; it was a smell Gabriel had known all his life. It reminded him of Dad taking his, Gabriel’s, feet, and rubbing them against his prickly face, making Gabriel scream with laughter.

‘See you, Dad.’

‘I hope so. I’m with you, Gabriel.’

‘Me, too.’

Dad put his arm around Gabriel and said in a low voice, ‘Please don’t forget — I’ll be waiting in my room for the picture. Have a good look at it now, and ring me soon — tomorrow, maybe — when you’ve finished with it. Apart from you, it is all I have now.’