Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

It was peculiar saying goodbye to Dad outside his own house and then going in to be looked after by a woman his father didn’t know, a stranger.

When Dad walked away, Gabriel saw that despite his father’s efforts in the morning, his clothes looked unwashed and his hair uncut and particularly wild. His troubles looked as though they were giving him a slight stoop. Gabriel hoped he would be all right.

He would think of what he could do to help him.

As soon as he got through the door of the house, Gabriel started to talk, forgetting that Hannah understood little of what he said. He wanted, at least, to show her the picture, but he doubted whether Lester’s work had been carried into the distant mountains of Phlegm or its small town, Bronchitis, near Hernia.

He was tense and tired; the events of the past two days had so excited and overwhelmed him. he felt he had passed through two birthdays at once without any cake.

‘Where’s Mum?’

‘Wha?’

‘Mum. The woman who lives here. Where?’

‘Work,’ said Hannah. ‘To get you food to eat, lazybones.’

‘I forgot,’ said Gabriel. ‘Is she coming early or late?’

‘Late.’

He still hadn’t become used to her not being there. However, he didn’t want to sit around missing her. He had things to do.

Telling Hannah he had some schoolwork, he went up to Mum’s room and looked for the clothes and make-up they’d worn at Lester’s gig. He couldn’t find the clothes, but he did find a musty old kimono, not unlike the one Lester had been wearing. It wasn’t exactly winter wear, and he had to put on a T-shirt underneath, but he resembled Lester more than he had done earlier. Then he went into his own room to play Lester’s records and study the picture. He drew Lester and wrote in his sketchbook all he could remember of what he had said, things like, ‘If I know where I’m going, how can I get lost on the way?’

He made drawings to illustrate these sayings. He knew it wasn’t sufficient to worship Lester, like those fans who thought they could procure Lester’s powers by copying his hair colour. If Gabriel was to achieve anything himself it would take more than hair dye. He had to follow Lester’s example and go his own way.

He awoke with her hair tickling his face. She had always done that when he was a baby, shaking the spray of her hair over him and laughing and making him crazy.

‘How was it?’ she said.

Coming to, he realized he could hear music from downstairs. Mum had brought her ‘friends’ back to the house. Her hair smelt as if it had been dipped in cigarette smoke.

‘How was what?’

He was not too sleepy to be unable to use the classic ‘adolescent’ defence: ignorance, denial and untruth.

‘You know what. Your time at Dad’s place.’

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulled back the covers and went to tickle him.

‘Please don’t do that,’ he said. ‘Mum!’

‘What are you wearing?’

‘Just something I found.’

‘You were always one for dressing up. Now tell me what happened.’

He said as neutrally as he could, ‘I enjoyed it.’

‘Has he got things organized over there?’

‘Not exactly organized.’

‘No. So — things are not good?’

‘Not bad.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I don’t know,’ parried Gabriel.

‘What’s Dad going to do, then?’

‘You know Dad. He’s got a few contacts.’

Mum snorted and laughed. ‘With the barmen in the Nashville? There was a job in the off-licence down the road. They know him there. I thought he might as well take their money before giving it back to them. But would he do it?’ She was looking at him. ‘Was Dad drinking?’

‘Not really.’

‘Drugs?’

‘You know I’ve given up.’

‘Him, you little fool!’ She pretended to slap his face. ‘Don’t joke about that subject.’

‘Sorry.’

‘And if he does anything like that with you around, I’ll stop him seeing you.’

Gabriel was listening for Archie, but he had made himself incommunicado.

After the experience of dealing with these interrogations from his parents, Gabriel wondered whether he might be qualified for work as a diplomat. Zak’s parents had recently separated and Gabriel had heard about the trials of being a divorce ‘go-between’. Generally, the code among the children, when the burning light of their parents’ curiosity was turned on them, was not unlike that of criminals dealing with the police: ‘Say nothing; give nothing away — it’ll only be used against you.’

The last thing parents wanted was the truth; a child could be punished for telling it. He was learning, but the situation was relatively new to him.

He found himself saying, ‘That’s not all Dad is. Lester was pleased to see him.’

She said, ‘Lester who? Lester Jones?’

‘He gave me a picture he’d done.’

‘Lester hasn’t seen Dad for years. Are you making up stories? I remember when you told the teacher at school that I’d fallen into a volcano.’

‘Hadn’t you?’

‘Sort of. Gabriel, how do you know Lester was pleased? Don’t tell me you both went.’

‘Yes.’

‘Where was Lester staying then?’

Gabriel began to describe the almost invisible hotel but Mum wasn’t listening; she was looking closely at him.

‘I know you’ve seen Lester,’ she said. ‘You’ve still got some of my eye shadow on. Isn’t that right?’

‘Green’s our colour, I think.’

‘Not that vulgar green.’ She said, ‘Nothing will come of any of it.’

‘Maybe. But he said I’m talented.’

‘Show business people always talk such shit. They said it about your father once. Funky fingers. Butter fingers more like.’

‘I didn’t get the impression,’ said Gabriel with the pomposity of a headmaster, ‘that he was only trying to be kind.’

‘Oh, didn’t you. What picture are you talking about? Show it to me. It doesn’t exist.’

‘Christine!’ A voice called from downstairs. ‘We want some more!’

Gabriel said, ‘Who’s that?’

‘A friend. I should go.’

Gabriel got out of bed and unrolled the picture. He held it out for her and she looked at it for a long time.

‘It is by him. Where are you going to keep it?’

‘Dad really likes it. It’ll cheer up his room.’

‘Does it need cheering up?

‘He hasn’t even got a picture of Archie.’

‘Hasn’t he? I’m not sure he even thinks about Archie now.’

Gabriel said, ‘The walls are so greasy at Dad’s place I doubt whether anything will stick to them.’

‘You can’t put it there, then. Oh no, no, no.’

‘But I’ll frame it first.’

‘You said it’s bleak over there, didn’t you?’

‘Christine!’ called a different voice.

‘Who’s that?’

‘Another friend.’

‘Mum, couldn’t you go round to Dad’s and do some dusting?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said sarcastically. ‘First thing in the morning. He’s got plenty of time on his hands, hasn’t he?’

‘Don’t you want to see him?’

‘Why should I?’

‘He’s in bad shape.’ She said nothing. ‘I think he wants to see you.’

She said, ‘He’s not working, is he?

‘Not at the moment. He’s busy … thinking.’

She pretended to choke. ‘He’s what?’

Gabriel repeated, ‘Thinking things over.’

‘Thinking! Ha, ha, ha!’ She was laughing hard. She repeated the word several times. ‘Thinking!’ Each time she said it she howled unnaturally.

At last she picked up the picture. ‘I’m going to borrow this.’

‘Mum —’

‘I want to show it to my friends, d’you have any objection?’