Mohammed Hanif - Our Lady of Alice Bhatti

“Soothing the doomed slut” is the nearest he has come to having a job description.

Teddy expected something from them for his wedding, maybe an invitation to use one of the safe houses for his honeymoon, or some trinkets, and he definitely expected some advice about life after marriage. He gets all of that and a house full of flowers. They have decided to give him a sizeable dowry. A dinner service for his grubby single-stove kitchen, half a dozen teacups with saucers, even a matching tea cosy, Chinese blankets with wild animal prints, silk bedsheets and a carton full of towels, marked For Export Only .

♦

After the ceremony on the submarine and before Alice arrived at his flat, they took him to a safe house for what they called a warm-up night. “We were looking for a virgin for this special occasion, but then Inspector Malangi reminded us that our bhabi is Yassoo’s follower, so we went looking for a Christian virgin. And you know what the pimp said? He said the last one was taken more than two thousand years ago.”

Malangi, being an elderly gentleman and the founder of the squad, only smiled, while the others slapped their thighs and laughed out loud. Then they got busy with a game of cards that would decide their turn; it was understood that Teddy Butt being the bridegroom would obviously get to go first. They were models of good behaviour that night and the party broke up at four in the morning with a still unfinished quarter-bottle of Murree Millennium.

The only note of discord came when the Christian girl confessed after two drinks that she was actually a Hindu from Nepal. Malangi became sulky and threatened to set police dogs on her, then scolded his colleagues. “First I get away from one wife and three daughters, that is four women, just to be with my friends. And I end up with yet another woman who, like all other women, lies and cheats. Why didn’t I just stay home?”

The girl was businesslike with them, encouraging them to take their game of cards seriously, giving special attention to the bridegroom. And when she told them that she knew how to say fuck in eight languages, they all cracked up and insisted on repeating it after her in a chorus. The night ended with them shouting fok jou, na ma low, khahar kosse, chodhru, ma ki kir k .

And yes there was marital advice for him, if only as an afterthought. But it sounded sincere and urgent.

“No disrespect to our bhabi, your wife is just like our sister but these mushkis are very hot, so save yourself. You have worked hard on this body, she’ll suck all the juices from your bones.”

“Go easy, take breaks, come with us on little trips.”

“Come and take a boy from our lock-up occasionally. It keeps the balance in the universe.”

“Love can only survive if it comes with a ration card.”

♦

On the big night, the G Squad have made an effort. They have hastily thrown a black silk bedsheet on the mattress, its price tag still attached. On the sheet they have strewn some rose petals and in the middle sits a teddy bear the size of a class-five boy, in its lap a red box of sweets from Fresco. Teddy picks it up and thinks he should offer some to Alice, but then its extremely light weight puzzles him. The time spent with the G Squad has taught him to be suspicious about things that don’t measure up; there is something unusual about the box. He opens it and shuts it immediately, embarrassed. He opens it again and picks out a slip of paper nestling on a pile of used condoms from the warm-up night.

“We’ll pick you up at four in the morning.” Inspector Malangi’s handwriting is like that of a child trying to fake a sick note. Getting to work is Teddy’s own responsibility. Whenever he is offered a ride, he knows that they really need him. It means they have got someone special to deal with, or someone really nervous. He hates dealing with the nervous ones. He also thinks that it is a nice reminder that the business of life must go on despite marriage, despite a wife, despite a house full of crockery and vague expectations. Despite his new life, he will be able to pay regular visits to his old life.

He also realises that tonight he is the nervous one. He has dreamed about it for so long that now, finally faced with the object of his fantasies, he feels short of breath. It reminds him of how he feels before big competitions, a certain hesitance, not knowing whether this is what he really wants in life. He feels like one of those lion cubs who manage to corner their first prey but then don’t know how to kill it, can’t yet find the jugular vein. As he waits for Alice to come out of the bathroom, he wants to be with the G Squad racing down a highway with some deadly criminal squirming in the back of their van. Or just hanging out in the office, making a list of dangerous criminals who might one day end up in the back of their van.

Now he feels as if he himself is in the back of the van.

He realises that Sister Alice is standing just behind him, very close. He still thinks of her as Sister. Alice. He feels her hand on his shoulder. He turns around in panic as if she has read his thoughts. He finds himself in her arms. She nuzzles his nose with hers, wedding-night drunk.

“I didn’t expect all this. You planned it. For how long have you been planning? How did you know this would work out? What if I had said no?”

Teddy’s body is limp against hers. He puts his arms around her and he cracks his knuckles. He knows in that moment that he probably hoped that she would say no. That he had never thought about the life that would follow if she said yes. He was mentally ready for a lifetime of yearning and mournful songs but he had never actually planned for a woman, any woman, and Alice is suddenly nothing but a woman who has come to live in his apartment. Now he knows how it feels to be one of those criminals in the back of the van; they are shorn of their deadliness, squirming and pleading, promising a lifetime of innocent compliance. He knows what happens to them.

“My friends from work. They did it all. I don’t know where to buy flowers and teacups. They are all married, so I guess they know.”

“So you have a job as well?” Alice runs her fingers along his spine. Teddy squirms, then stops himself and pretends he is ticklish. “Such a responsible man. What more? Now do you want to tell me the names you have chosen for our babies?” She holds his face in her hands and makes to kiss him on his lips. Confused, Teddy turns his face away and her lips end up on his ear. Both his hands grip her buttocks, but then he realises that there is no need to hurry, she is not going anywhere; they have the whole night, hell, their whole life in front of them. He moves his hands up and holds her by her waist. He has an unannounced, almost sickly erection.

“Do you want some tea?” he asks.

“I’ll make it,” she says, holding his arms and putting them by his sides, patting them, as if reassuring a hypochondriac.

In the kitchen she finds a tea set still wrapped in old newspapers, tears open a family pack of Lipton tea bags, scrubs a kettle that has fungus on its lid, puts it under a tap that has more fungus growing in its mouth, and waits for a few seconds, for a thin dribble of water to fill the kettle. After spluttering and hissing, the flame from the stove almost licks her nose, and it is only after she has put the kettle on the stove and found a lid to cover it that she stands back and thinks that this is her new life. And she hasn’t told Joseph Bhatti about it yet.

She tries to imagine a conversation with him that’ll never take place. “If he is not a Choohra, it doesn’t matter. You have married outside French Colony, it doesn’t matter. What does it matter if he is a Yassoo man or a Musla? What does it matter who he is? Welcome home, memsahib. But always remember, wherever you go, you won’t be very far from French Colony.”