Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

Gabriel’s prison sentence, already long enough, would, surely, be increased. He remembered that when he visited the flats near by, one of the men there had been in prison. ‘I done my bird,’ he kept saying. This badge of the outlaw life had been the cause of some admiration, but Gabriel couldn’t remember if the man had said the prisoners were allowed to read all day. Could he take his Walkman? Would his parents visit him? How long did forgers get?

By the time they got home, his head was host to its own firestorm. He needed time to consider everything but wondered whether his mother, in one of her ‘concerned’ moods, would want to visit a gallery, or whether she’d invite him to watch one of her favourite ‘uplifting’ musicals with her.

Fortunately, in the late afternoon, she told him she had to go to work.

‘I need to leave a bit earlier today,’ she said. ‘There’s someone I think I should phone and meet with. Is that all right?’ she said guiltily. ‘Do you mind?’

‘It’s fine. I want to look at my new book and draw.’

‘Good. By the way,’ she said, ‘I wanted to give you this.’ She handed him a booklet. He looked at the title — ‘A Career in Law’ — and shivered.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Is that Denis Law?’

‘Cut it out. Let me know what you think. It’s been a lovely day, Angel. I hope we get to spend a lot of time together. If we go to Italy we will.’

‘He’ll be there.’

‘Yes, George will be there.’

‘What for?’

‘For me to be with, that’s what for! You’ve got to stop complaining about everything.’ Then she said, ‘You’re not going to bein touch with Archie this afternoon, are you?’

‘Why, have you got any questions for him?’

‘Gabriel —’ She was holding her breath. ‘I presume that was one of your jokes, which I’m sick and tired of, like the rest of this “Archie” stuff. Now, give me a kiss. Please.’

‘There.’

‘Thank you.’

When she’d gone, Gabriel did, for a while, sit in his room drawing. He drew a Japanese vase carefully but, unlike before, it failed to appear. Not that he needed a Japanese vase in his life at the moment. It was easy to wish hard and think that this made things happen. In the end, action had to be taken.

It was a relief when it didn’t work. No more hallucinations; he wanted to live in the same world as other people. He wouldn’t copy any more; it would be only original originals from now on. Copying had got him into enough trouble.

He put his materials away.

He found himself looking for Hannah in order to tell her that he was going out. When he saw that she had fallen asleep in front of the television, he searched the house for cash. Reluctantly he collected the money he had been saving to buy his movie camera. He raided his childhood piggy boxes, looked in the pockets of old coats, collected the money he’d earned on his paper round, and the money given to him by relatives at Christmas. He went through his mother’s handbags and found a ten-pound note.

He was ready

Leaving a note to say he had gone to Zak’s, he closed the front door as quietly as he could.

It was a thirty-minute walk to Speedy’s restaurant.

Outside Splitz, behind a remorseless velvet rope and patch of red carpet, bulged an eager queue. Beyond the door, Gabriel could see people stopping to look at his ‘Lester’ picture.

Although Gabriel had set off with good intentions, when he arrived at Splitz he began to consider it an excellent idea to go home and lie down with a pillow over his head.

He was about to turn away when a sleek car drew up outside and two men and two women got out, looking to be looked at. Gabriel watched them approach the rope; they were ushered through the crowd at the door. Gabriel knew he should know who they were but ere, they were gone before he could think about it.

Through the window, along with everyone else, Gabriel saw Speedy trot over to them, taking quick little steps on his high-heeled boots; he reached up to press his busy lips against their faces, before taking them to a table.

When Speedy had settled them, he returned a few minutes later and glanced in Gabriel’s direction. In a moment he had stepped outside.

‘You coming in, beautiful baby? I think you are!’

Before Gabriel could say anything, Speedy had taken his arm, unhooked the velvet rope and led Gabriel through the crowd. Gabriel liked that; he could get used to privilege, he reckoned.

Speedy was sitting close to him at his ‘operating table’. At this distance, Gabriel could examine Speedy’s pasty yellow glow, like the moon on an off day. Gabriel couldn’t help enjoying the enthusiasm with which Speedy regarded him.

‘Is there anything I can I do for you, Gabriel?’

‘Thanks for putting Dad onto Jake Ambler. We went over there and taught that kid a few things.’

‘You did? That kid’s a nutter, did I tell you that? Smacked his therapist across the chops, I heard. The only music he knows about is the five-finger exercise. Ha, ha, ha!’

‘It doesn’t matter. It helped Dad out. He was getting pretty low about Mum and all that. Actually, he’s been down to zero.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it. These things can get a guy down, I know. Is that what’s been happening to you?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Yeah. How about some juice, kid? Beer? Ice-cream? Not sure? What about a waitress?’

Speedy was watching him.

Gabriel said, ‘Right now I’ll take the juice.’

‘OJ!’ Speedy said into the air, confident that his cry would not go unheard. ‘Just passing by? Come in any time.’

‘What about the queue?’

‘You don’t have to worry about that. Just step right in. You’re looking good. I like your hair parted like that. Funny how you’re so blond and they’re dark. Knew your parents well for a long time. Pretty good people.’ He couldn’t stop talking. ‘Feeling lonely, eh? Sunday afternoon. I’ve had a lifetime of Sunday afternoons like that, with nothing on the telly but East of Eden . Somehow I think my whole life has been organized to avoid Sunday afternoons, followed, of course, by a Monday at school. Don’t tell me how it is — I know which way up it is for a kid.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘You know, I was talking to a writer friend who is taking those workshop things with young people. When he asked them to write about their childhoods all the stories — every one — were about being humiliated by adults. Right?’

‘Wow,’ said Gabriel. ‘It’s a familiar thing, then?’

‘Indeed. Look, look Gabriel — over there.’

He pointed down at the table where the four people who’d come in earlier were sitting.

‘There’s Charlie Hero. Don’t you recognize him?’

‘Is that him? He’s much older.’

‘Yeah. Your father played with him. He’s with his school friend Karim Amir, the half-Indian actor, fresh out of the clinic. He’s in that big film with all the sand — I can’t remember what it’s called. Jake Ambler produced it. There was a cool party at Gaga, and Charlie played “Kill for Dada” with his old band. Karim got up and harmonized. ‘Speedy put his lips to Gabriel’s ear.’ You know — this isn’t gossip — everyone knows —’

‘What?’

‘Charlie’s mother and Karim’s father were lovers, years ago. Karim told me he caught them at it in her back garden in Becken-ham, one time.’

‘Wow. I love those old stories. Everyone knows everyone else.’

‘So will you, soon. That’s the way it goes. I’ll see to it. She’s dead now. I think the father is, too. I’m not sure. I can find out from an old copy of Hello! . Want their autographs? Why not meet them? I’ll take you over.’