Hanif Kureishi - Gabriel's Gift

At home he listened to the CDs that Speedy had given him. He went happily to bed but seemed to have only just shut his eyes when he had a nightmare.

He was sitting with his mother and Archie in a bus beside his father’s coffin. Other customers sat on the bus as usual. The bus conductor asked Gabriel’s mother for their fares but she had no money to pay. The family couldn’t take Dad’s body to the cemetery in a hearse because they couldn’t afford that either. Then his father, as a ghost, was sitting with them, holding Archie’s hand and telling them all not to worry. Mum’s friend George, surrounded by a swirling halo, was waving through the window.

Gabriel cried out but it made no difference; no one could hear.

Gabriel touched something soft. It was a real person. Gabriel was so disorientated that he reached for the light switch. But someone else’s hand had made it first.

It was Dad in evening dress with his bow tie as floppy as an old daffodil. He was crumpled and smelled of alcohol and cigars. Around his mouth was something like chocolate cake.

‘We’ve just come in from the party. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe. Angel, you can go back to sleep.’

‘You are here. It’s really you. But why are you here?’

‘You’ll be the first to hear about it, tomorrow.’

His father was at the table, in his usual place, with mustard and butter, and Branston pickle and ketchup and salt to hand. Underneath was the newspaper, open on the sports page; Dad moved the objects around in order to read the part of the page he required. He was listening to Verdi’s Requiem while wondering aloud whether Nottingham Forest would make it to the Premiership.

Occasionally he looked up in puzzlement; he’d never been in the house with Hannah there. Unintentionally, she kept making him laugh. Gabriel could see how nervous she was by the fact that she kept raising food to her mouth, and putting it down again, as if she couldn’t believe that the world had tilted once more.

Dad said, ‘It’s funny you dreaming about me, Gabriel. I thought I saw Archie last night.’

‘What?’

‘I was sitting there with friends when I became convinced your twin was looking through the window of Jake’s house. I even made an excuse, went outside and walked about. There was no one there, of course. Weird, eh? By the way, what’s this about you and Archie talking and stuff?’

Gabriel hesitated but said, ‘He’s with me, Dad.’

‘Of course he is. He’s with me too. That’s where the kid should be, with his family.’

‘You talk to him?’

‘Every day.’ Gabriel was relieved. Dad went on, ‘Don’t tell Mum. It upsets her.’

When Gabriel’s mother joined them, Hannah went and stood across the room, folding clothes with ostentatious care.

‘I can’t wait to hear how it went last night.’ said Gabriel. ‘Did you get champagne at the door?’

‘Champagne and canapés, of course.’

‘Then what did you eat?’

‘Wait a minute. I have to give you good news,’ said his mother. She was in her dressing-gown and her hair was everywhere. She must have been tired after last night but she seemed content. ‘Your father was too sensitive to ask about the camera. But I did. It turned out that years ago Carlo’s father, Jake, was a camera assistant, and he’s got what you want in his garage. He’ll show you how to use it.’

‘I’ll be able to start my film?’

‘He suggested you shoot it over the summer. The days will be longer. There’ll be more light.’

Dad said, ‘Fluffy, you forgot.’ She blushed at the name. It had been a long time since he’d called her that. ‘Someone else was there last night, too.’ He was looking at Gabriel. ‘A friend of yours.’

‘That’s right,’ said Mum. ‘Lester Jones turned up, for drinks. He asked how you were getting on.’

‘He did?’ Gabriel said, ‘He didn’t mention anything else?’

‘He’s doing a concert in a small venue in London and has invited us to visit him backstage.’

‘That’s great,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’m pleased. He didn’t mention the picture?’

‘No.’ Mum was regarding Dad with annoyance. ‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten what a noise you make when you eat. You sit back — you’re thinking, I suppose — and there’s a sort of animal chewing.’

‘I’d forgotten what a noise you make when you’re talking,’ said Dad. ‘And I’d forgotten the pleasures of living together. Was it like this all the time?’ Mum lowered her head. ‘By the way, Christine, I wanted to ask you — who’s George?’

‘What?’ said Mum.

Gabriel and his father were watching her.

Dad said, ‘Last night Gabriel was shouting in his sleep about George. Who is he?’

Gabriel was aware that Dad knew who he was. Dad was getting himself worked up.

‘No one,’ said Mum. ‘There’s no George.’

‘There better not be. Is it true, Gabriel? And don’t lie to me.’

Mum said, ‘Don’t forget, Jake invited us to his country place. He’s had the new indoor pool installed and thinks we might like to try it out.’

‘All three of us?’ said Gabriel. ‘Are we going?’

‘Would you like to?’

‘Yes. I can work there.’

Dad got up. ‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I haven’t got time to gossip.’

While Gabriel sat next to his mother and asked her to describe the previous evening’s food, as well as the plates, clothes and conversation, Dad picked up his bag and went to the door.

‘I’ve got a lot of work to do today,’ he said. At the foot of the stairs he turned. ‘I’d like to get started while I’m here, if that’s all right, Christine.’

Mum was looking at him. She wasn’t sure.

‘All right,’ she said at last. ‘There can’t be too much harm in it.’ When Dad had gone upstairs to the bedroom she said, ‘I did invite him here, but he seems to be getting comfortable again.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

She got up and walked about restlessly. ‘I loved him for a long time. I loved him far more than he loved me. But it was hopeless. He was kind of gone. So I turned it off. Now he’s decided he wants to start again. I was about to begin a new life.’

‘Maybe you will, now, together.’

‘You’re soppy, Gabriel. What makes you think I’m such a pushover?’

‘Give him a chance. He’s trying to do something now.’

‘Why the hell should I?’ She relaxed a little. ‘Just tell me — whisper — what “work” is he doing in there? After breakfast in the old days, when you’d gone to school, he’d read the paper on the couch, and ask what was for lunch. How do I know he’s not doing that?’

‘He’ll be playing music and making notes about his pupil’s progress. He keeps a file on each one. I’ve seen them.’

‘He’s taking it very seriously.’

Gabriel said, ‘He’s decided that making music and talking about it — the whole thing — is therapeutic.’

‘How can it be? I’ve known musicians who’ve been playing since they were teenagers and they’re still a bunch of deadheads.’ She sighed. ‘Still, have you noticed how much Rex’s limp hasimproved? He’s become a fortunate man, your father. He’s found something at last that he’s good at. I’m jealous.’

‘How can you be? Of what?’

‘I suppose I believed that only talented people had a vocation or were important, while the rest of us were slaves. Your dad isn’t exceptionally talented and often he’s paralysed within. But it doesn’t mean he can’t be useful.’

‘He is very useful,’ said Gabriel. ‘He’s gone off the dole. He’s even given me money. Maybe he’ll give you some, if you beg nicely.’