Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

‘Look after yourself,’ the teacher said.

‘Thank you, sir.’

He would look after himself. The experience with Lester had taken him into another world, where he seemed to belong. He couldn’t wait to remind himself of it by examining the picture again.

That afternoon, when he got home, he couldn’t find it anywhere, not in his mother’s room, and not in his own.

He turned out cupboards and looked in the same place again and again, before going to Hannah, who was standing outside the bathroom.

‘Sorry, Hannah,’ he said in a businesslike voice. ‘I’ve got to go out to a meeting. I’d be grateful if you’d keep my supper warm.’

‘I’ll warm your arse in a minute!’ When necessary Hannah could find the appropriate phrase. She had made friends with other au pairs; in some ways, as London became richer, it was becoming more Victorian. Her friends must have been coaching her. ‘It’s bath time! Water all over!’

She pointed at the full bath.

‘ You get in,’ he said. ‘You could do with a wash!’

She was even more shocked when he put his coat on, took the man’s shirt from the back of a chair, and went out of the house, announcing, ‘What a lovely evening for a stroll!’

She stood on the doorstep and cried in reasonable English, ‘Wait, wait! I am in charge!’

‘I’m going to see Mum,’ he said. ‘I’m not a child.’

When he looked back he saw that she was intending to start off behind him, but it didn’t take him long to lose her.

His mother worked several streets away, and he was soon there.

The bar became raucous after work, filling up with office workers in black clothes. At the door a waitress tried to stop him. ‘You’re too young!’

‘Put me in jail.’

He saw his mother across the room, standing at a table beside a man he recognized without knowing where from. It was Strange: she was the most important woman in his life, and unimportant here, just another waitress. Worse, at that moment she probably wasn’t thinking of him.

‘Mum!’ He was standing on tiptoe.

At his voice she looked up. He could, suddenly, command her attention and make her his again. It was a wonderful power.

She hurried over. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Yes.’

‘What is it? Tell me! Are you not well?’ She pressed her hand to his forehead. ‘You are hot!’

‘Course I’m hot! Where’s my picture? The one Lester gave me.’

‘Oh, that. Is that why you’ve come? What’s that in your hand?’

‘The shirt one of those sweaty men left last night.’

She took it and folded it up a little too neatly for his liking. She said, ‘I’ve put the picture away for safekeeping.’

‘Thanks. But I want it now.’

‘What for?’

‘That’s up to me.’

‘Don’t shout at me. I’m a single mother and I’ve got a headache!’

‘I’m surprised you can stand up at all.’

She had her hurt face on, making him feel that it was his fault, that his demands were unreasonable.

The waitress who had tried to stop him coming in went up to his mother. ‘Christine, there’s a customer waiting.’

‘Coming.’ To Gabriel, Mum said, ‘Go home.’

He said, ‘I want to look at it.’

‘Don’t mess it up. It’ll get damaged with everyone pulling at it,’

‘You mean Dad?’

‘That man’s an old hippie. They were a generation that didn’t want to understand the value of things. Why d’you think we’ve been poor all these years? Dad didn’t want to be “materialistic”. Where I’ve put the picture … it’ll be safe. You can have it — of course you can have it — when you’re older.’

‘Older! Will I never be the right age? I was old enough when he gave it to me. It’s mine and that’s a fact.’

‘A fact? A fact!’ she laughed. ‘But we’re family.’

‘A family!’

‘We can look at it as a family, when I say.’

Gabriel said, ‘I want Dad to look at it sometimes, too.’

‘I’ll think about that. He’s gone. He doesn’t want us. Why d’you think he walked out?’

Gabriel was shaking; he hated her and was afraid of his own fury. She refused to understand him, or take him seriously. She was even angry with his anger.

‘What I notice,’ she said as they walked to the door, ‘is how you come here only when you want something for yourself. Why, when I saw you, I almost thought you had come in to see how I’m getting on!’

‘How are you getting on?’

‘What? Fine,’ she said. ‘I like it here. Your father once told me that I have the mind of a waitress. Maybe he was right, eh?’

He looked up to see the black post-box of Hannah heaving through the door.

‘Bad, bad boy.’

She almost collapsed and had to lean against a table.

‘Thank you, Hannah,’ said his mother, returning to her work.

‘Boy,’ said Hannah. ‘Boy — come here.’

Outside, Hannah took his hand and tried to pull him across the road as though he were a short-legged child. He stumbled along behind her, reminded of being dragged by his mother and slapped on the legs by her as an infant.

At the edge of the pavement he stopped and wrenched his hand away from her; if she touched him, he would flatten her and take the consequences.

Hannah was looking at him: his eyes must have blazed; there was fear in hers.

‘O? OK,’ she said. ‘Follow up.’ She started off in one direction, and then in another.

‘Which way?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Where are we?’

‘London.’ He added, ‘You’d better follow me.’

Turning the corner at the end of their street, Gabriel saw that Dad was standing outside the house. Gabriel took Hannah’s hand and pulled her behind a van.

‘I’m staying here,’ he whispered. ‘You go to the house. Let him see you.’

Hannah was perplexed but did what he said. When Dad saw her approaching, he walked away quickly and turned the corner without looking back.

Later, Gabriel searched for the picture again but couldn’t find it. He became increasingly annoyed with his mother and decided to wait until she returned, and interrogate her later. But when she came in he heard a man’s voice and decided to wait until the front door slammed. By that time, however, he was exhausted and had fallen asleep.

He awoke as suddenly as if he had been shaken. He switched the light on and looked about. There was no other hand in the room. He wondered whether he had been dreaming about death, as he used to. But it wasn’t that: he wasn’t sweating and frightened.

He seemed to hear a voice in the distance. At first, he thought it was his father outside the house, wanting to be let in. However, when he listened he knew it was Archie, calling to him. Archie had an announcement.

‘What is it, Archie?’ said Gabriel in a low voice. I’m here if you’ve got something to say. You better spit it out, little brother — I’m not hanging around.’

Archie began to speak.

He told Gabriel where the picture was and that he should fetch it. Had there been two of them, he said, that was what they’d do, have an adventure, like the twins in Enid Blyton’s stories. Except that there was a little problem. Archie informed Gabriel that Lester’s picture was hidden in their mother’s bedroom, and of course Mum was asleep.

Archie didn’t seem bothered by this. Ordinary obstacles didn’t burden wraiths.

Once Archie had said where the picture was, Gabriel knew his brother was right; that was where it would be. He should have thought of it himself. Mum had no imagination when it came to hiding things. Or perhaps she underestimated his determination.