Hanif Kureishi: Gabriel's Gift

‘D’you think so? How much does he get paid?’

‘I’m not sure —’

‘Aren’t you? Per hour, right?’

‘I think it’s —’ Gabriel told her the figure.

‘Is that it? That’s not much more than I earn,’ she said.

‘Jake pays more. He just gives Dad what he feels like giving him. I don’t think Dad knows how much to expect. He feels ashamed, asking every time.’

‘He shouldn’t have to put his hand out. He must send a bill. I’ll do it on the new computer we’re getting. I bet he’s not paying any tax. He’ll get into trouble. I’ll sort it out. Now I’d better go and see my girlfriends. It’s our coffee morning. They’ll want to hear about last night.’

There was a café near by where she and her friends had met for years. They’d talk about husbands, kids, movies and TV; they’d compare what they’d bought in the antique market, and they’d give one another advice.

Before she went out she said, ‘Last night Rex was really sweet and polite. He held my hand — he knows I love that. He even talked to me and took an interest in what I have to say, probably because he was too scared to talk to anyone else. He promised to buy me some new clothes. If only it could always have been that way.’

Later that morning, when Dad emerged from the bedroom and left to give Carlo his lesson, Gabriel accompanied him to see Jake’s camera.

Dad had a hangover. On the way they stopped for coffee. The café was on the main road and it wasn’t warm, but they sat on iron chairs outside, drinking juice and watching people. Dad liked to count the lunatics.

‘There’s one,’ he’d say, nudging Gabriel. ‘And look at that nutter, chattering and gurgling! He’s got no chance, poor guy.’

It seemed to reassure him to realize he was less messed up than other people.

Then Dad said, ‘It was really good last night, Gabriel. You might have guessed, your mother and I have been meeting a bit, just to see what’s there. To see if we get on.’

‘And?’

‘Yeah, we do get along, at times. Anyway, last night, after she invited me to come home with her, I was getting undressed. I found her dressing-gown behind the door, where it always was. I showered and cleaned my teeth and all that. I started to think: she’s in bed, she’s waiting for me. She’ll be hot in there, practically boiling — she’s a high-temperature woman, at night — and soon I’ll be snuggling up to her back, her legs, her arse, which is like a two-bar electric fire. Her feet will be on my legs, touching me, and that’s where I want to be, kissing her neck. Excuse the details, but I’m telling you, Angel, that’s what a man wants at the end of the day — and at my time of life — when he lays his tired head down. To know that a woman has chosen you, that she wants to be with you — it’s an achievement.’

‘You don’t live together.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ He went on, ‘People are rarely a perfect fit. These days they walk away from one another too quickly. Why does everyone have to break up? If you can sit still through the bad bits you can find new things. For me, being with her again is like having a new girlfriend. Your mother suffered a lot over Archie. She deserves a break. I don’t like her being a waitress. What I want is to support her financially, so she can do what she wants. I’d be proud of that.’ He looked at Gabriel. ‘You’re not listening. You’re thinking about something else altogether.’

‘Yes. I can concentrate on the things I really want to do.’

‘But I still don’t know whether she’ll have me back. I’ll have to keep thinking of what might seduce her.’

At Jake’s, Dad and Carlo went upstairs to work.

Gabriel was standing in the hallway when Jake himself, accompanied by a uniformed servant, and wearing a suit and shoes so elegant they were, in effect, golden slippers, led Gabriel into the low garage at the side of the house. There sat two green Lotuses, a Jag and a Bentley.

Behind the cars, Jake found the big camera. He removed his jacket, put a sheet down, opened his tools, and took the camera apart on the floor. He wanted to ‘reacquaint’ himself with it. As he rebuilt it, he talked of the films it had been used on and the famous actors it had photographed. Then Jake asked Gabriel about the film he intended to make. Gabriel recounted the story, becoming excited as he talked. He hadn’t forgotten it; in fact the little movie had become clearer in his mind.

‘Sounds like a pretty good contemporary movie to me,’ said Jake, nodding. ‘Full of funny detail, too.’

Afterwards, in Jake’s office, surrounded by movie posters, awards and an Oscar — ‘Everyone should have at least one of these,’ he said, patting it — Jake showed Gabriel stills from the films.

‘Why don’t you take these with you?’ he said, wrapping them in tissue paper. ‘They’re more use to you than they are to me.’

‘Jake, why didn’t you become a director?’ Gabriel asked, putting them in his bag.

‘Good question,’ began Jake. ‘I think it’s because I knew Jimi Hendrix, when he lived in Notting Hill.’

Gabriel almost choked. ‘What?’

This was how Jake liked to talk, impressing the kid. For Gabriel it was like someone saying they’d been on holiday with Shakespeare.

Jake said, ‘I’m that old, I saw Jimi play a lot of times, at the Marquee and those places. I thought, I’ll never be a genius like this guy. Who do we have to turn to these days for spiritual guidance? Not the priests, politicians or scientists. There are only artists left to believe in. So: I am a supergroupie. I love those artists who pant after chimeras. But I’d rather puff a cigar in an easy chair myself. It’s my loss — doing art gives a man big balls. It’s probably never occurred to you that you can’t do things. But I never had the confidence to believe I could be talented, or had an imagination.’

‘Where did it go?’

‘I had it once, you think? As a child, perhaps. I don’t know. I was sent away to school. Must have been refined out of me.’

‘Jake —’

‘Something on your mind? You’re looking tense today.’

‘Yeah … Mum’s got this strange idea.’

‘What’s that? Tell me, Gabriel.’

‘She’s started thinking that I should be a lawyer. A show-business lawyer, you know. Doing contracts for bass players and stuff.’

‘Yeah.’ Jake seemed to understand immediately. In fact he found it funny. ‘That’s what I was supposed to be.’

‘And you’d recommend it?’

Jake stuck his tongue out. ‘What’s the point of doing something you hate?’

Gabriel said, ‘I want my work and my life to be the same thing.’

‘That’s what the successful people — like Lester Jones — have. Most people don’t find out until it’s too late what they want to do.’

‘Or who they want to be?’

‘That’s right. Why don’t I talk to your mum? I’ll take her out and explain what your prospects might be if you work hard and do well.’

‘Have you got time?’

‘I can’t think of anything that’s more important than the future of young people like you.’

When Carlo and Dad had finished and came downstairs, looking relaxed, Jake said that when Gabriel was old enough he would get him a job on a movie as a ‘runner’.

To Gabriel’s surprise, Jake did keep his word about Mum.

A few days later Gabriel returned from school to find her at home. Her face was flushed; she’d been drinking but she was cheerful. Dad was in the kitchen, making tea.

‘I’ve just got in,’ she said. ‘Guess what happened! Jake called this morning and asked me out to lunch. I’ve been on more dates in the past few weeks than I have for years. Where are you going to take me?’ she called to Dad.