Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

Dad turned and looked at him, nervous of any condescension. There was none; the man was looking at him gratefully.

Jake said quietly, ‘Carlo didn’t say anything offensive did he?’

‘Like what?’

‘Well … you know … that you were a self-abuser.’

‘No.’ said Dad. ‘He didn’t mention anything like that.’

‘I’m relieved. I can’t seem to find the right tone with him. He’s my only son, Rex. It’s terrible: the boy has strange turns.’

‘He does?’

‘When he goes to sleep he thinks flies walk over his body. He thinks policemen are watching him. We sent him to that therapist that people have started seeing, the one who wrote the book, Deedee Osgood. Have you met her yet? Carlo seemed to get very attached to her, but it didn’t cure him. He won’t learn anything but the one thing he’s interested in is music. He’s either playing or listening, all the time. Music can make people feel better, can’t it?’

‘It’s always had that effect on me.’

‘Please, will you try it with him, then?’

‘Try what?’

‘Teaching him stuff — anything that you know — through music.’

‘I’d like to be of help, Jake. I’m flattered and all that. But I’ve never done it before. I’m not qualified.’

‘I don’t care about that. The boy has worshipped Lester for years. He wouldn’t show it, but he was very excited when he heard you were coming. He’ll see you, I know he will. Please, give it a go — just for a while. If it doesn’t work out, nothing will have been lost.’

‘It’s strange,’ said Dad. ‘I know how the boy feels. For years I could hardly speak. I didn’t like other people standing too close to me. Music was the only thing that went into my head. Let me think.’

Dad walked away and seemed to be thinking a bit, though mostly he was fiddling with his hair. Jake and Gabriel watched him. At last Dad agreed to come by every other day to give the boy lessons.

‘I don’t know what I’ll do,’ said Dad. ‘But I don’t mind telling him some of the things I know.’

‘I’m delighted!’ said Jake, shaking his hand. ‘You must come round for dinner. I’ll get some people in that you might like. Can my driver drop you anywhere? He’s at your disposal — both of you.’

‘No thanks,’ said Rex, before Gabriel could say anything. ‘We like the street. We’re used to having our feet on the ground.’

When Gabriel and Dad were turning the corner, Carlo ran up behind them and shoved tapes of his father’s films into Gabriel’s arms and whispered, ‘He’s all right, your father.’

‘Thanks for saying that,’ said Gabriel.

Dad lit a joint and they walked away through the cold air.

‘I’m surprised you didn’t smack that kid across the room,’ said Gabriel. ‘I was getting ready to.’

‘I noticed. You could have easily taken the skinny little bastard. But it wouldn’t have created a good impression with his old man if you’d put that bottle through his head.’

‘No.’

‘He didn’t bother me one bit,’ said Dad. ‘I’m glad we went. But I am exhausted. I couldn’t go through all that again, even if they paid me. I’ll ring and say I’m emigrating to Africa.’

‘No you won’t. Surely we didn’t go through all that for nothing?’

Dad said, ‘Do you know why people become teachers?’

‘In my experience, because they like being listened to.’

‘That’s a good reason for being one, then, if you have something to say.’ Dad counted the money three times and whistled. ‘To think — all these years I’ve been passing on my opinions in pubs for nothing!’ He said quickly, ‘You know, when that kid started cursing me, I remembered that my mum was a primary school teacher. I’d sort of forgotten that. She was devoted to it, too. She was hardly at home and when she was there she was preparing for the next day. We’d run into her adoring ex-pupils all over the place, waving and saying hello. Whenever I went to the school there was always a kid holding on to her. I hated that.’

‘Why?’

‘I wanted her to be only mine. But she could do this remarkable thing — she knew how to make kids feel she was on their side.’

‘How did she do that?’

‘By being really on their side. By disliking authority.’ Dad was sobbing. ‘I haven’t thought about her for a long time. Can you believe it — I’m talking about more than forty years ago. Maybe in forty years, long after I’m dead, you’ll remember this moment. I often think about how you’ll remember me. Maybe you’ll put me in a film or something. Who could play me, d’you think? How about Robert De Niro?’

‘Won’t you be around when I’m old? I want you here for ever.’

‘Yeah, I know. I’ll try and last as long as I can, pal. But I’ll be dead before you, I hope. You’ll have a son and you can tell him all about our adventures together. The stupid things I used to do … and how I sold your picture … and how I —’

‘Yes.’

‘Whatever. Shall we go and eat? Things are looking up a little. We should celebrate, eh?’

He took Gabriel to a good Italian place where they filled themselves up with pasta and ice-cream.

It had been a busy day but to Gabriel’s surprise Dad wasn’t depleted. The teaching had reinvigorated him. Gabriel himself had even managed to temporarily forget about the picture. It was, of course, hanging in Splitz, but Lester didn’t go there.

Later, at the top of their road, Gabriel said, ‘Mum will be pleased.’

‘About what?’

‘The teaching job.’

‘Will you tell her?’

‘It would be better coming from you.’ said Gabriel. ‘She keeps saying to me that there’s something important she wants to talk about, but she never gets round to it.’

‘D’you know what it is?’

Gabriel shrugged. ‘The future, I expect. Dad, why don’t you come round?’

‘I’ve thought about it. But I can’t go into the house … it’s heartbreaking. Even walking about this area makes me feel sick.’

‘Go to the bar where she works.’

‘Do you think she’d been happy to talk to me? She’s falling in love with someone else.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve never met a bigger idiot than that guy. She’s only trying to make you jealous.’

‘Yeah? I’ll think about it. My problem is, I don’t really want anyone else. But she’s been rather hard on me.’

‘It’s for your own good.’

‘Thank you, Gabriel, but I don’t feel improved by it yet.’

Gabriel kissed his father.

‘See you soon, Dad.’

‘See you.’

One Sunday morning a couple of weeks later, when at last he got up, Gabriel found Hannah had bared her thick arms and donned rubber gloves, covered her head with a ragged tea towel, and put on a pair of his father’s old shoes, without laces. Gabriel wondered if she were about to tackle a pile of nuclear waste, but saw she was intending to clean the living room. Mum had had people round: the sour air was thick and muzzy, the ashtrays full, the chairs scattered, and on the table were beer and wine bottles, crisp packets and half-eaten sandwiches.

Afraid Hannah might hand him a mop or duster, he skipped through into the kitchen. To his surprise he found his mother listening to a waltz on the radio and cooking him a fried breakfast.

‘Hi, Angel. It’s a lovely day. How about going to Kew Gardens?’

The suggestion startled him; he quite liked Hannah now, but he didn’t want to spend the day in a hothouse with her.

He said, ‘I’m going swimming with a mate.’

Mum said, ‘I thought it would be nice for us to go out.’

Gabriel and his parents often used to go to Kew Gardens on Sundays. They had taken many photographs there. It must have been two years since they’d last visited.