Hanif Kureishi - The Last Word

He knew no one who was not mad, and he recognised Alice was not different from anyone else at the moment: there was no shame attached to debt; in fact, the debtless and thrifty were considered foolish losers. However, he had to urge her to cut down, as one would with any dependency. But she called shopping her ‘outlet’, and was worried that if she did cut back, she’d require another means of assuaging her anxiety.

Today, once she’d settled in, Harry thought it a good idea for Alice to spend time with Liana. With her ferocious but enthusiastic mind focused on food, furniture and the mood of her man, Liana would set a good example to the young woman.

‘Liana, darling, tell me, what do you think of my girl?’ whispered Harry, when, later that morning for a moment, he was alone with the older woman. ‘Should I send her packing?’

‘Seeing her bright face has cheered me up. She is a little haughty, as you said, but fresh and delicate. I loved her from the moment she showed taste. She said a wonderful thing. “Liana, this is definitely a feminine house.” She so reminds me of myself before I had hangovers and met Mamoon that she could be my daughter. Is she a model?’

‘People used to stop her on the street and tell her to go do it. So she was, briefly. But she’s too quiet to show her ass for money.’

‘She’s so skinny I can practically see through her. And her hair, what an extraordinary colour.’

‘It’s natural.’

‘Did I say it wasn’t? Platinum blonde, I suppose you’d call it. It’s almost white.’

‘Please, Liana, don’t give her any clothes. Why are you giving them away?’

‘What point is there to them, down here? Women only wear beautiful clothes so that men will want to remove them.’

Harry said, ‘Poor Alice, she was almost shaking this morning, Liana, in terror of you.’

She clutched his arm. ‘Of me? Never say that! I only want to scare Mamoon — and you, of course. Why?’

‘She’s afraid. Your depth of experience and sophistication was intimidating.’

‘The darling child, I must help and guide her. She lights this house up.’

Alice appeared. Liana shouted and waved, the dogs rushed to the car, and Liana whisked Alice into town to shop for lunch. Afterwards, Liana showed her the kitchen, and cooked with her, the two of them drinking a bottle of wine, while Liana talked continuously. Soon Liana was calling Alice her ‘pretty long-lost daughter’, and dragging her off with the dogs for a tour of the house, barns and grounds, and then of her clothes and shoes; these things, being of an Italian vintage, interested Alice.

When an older woman met a younger one and liked her, she gave her clothes. This cemented something between them, a hierarchy perhaps, as well as understanding. Liana also gave Alice Indian and Italian jewellery, so much so that when Harry next ran into Alice in the kitchen, he did a double take because Alice — who at the station had been wearing a simple orange jacket, denim shorts and strappy shoes — now resembled, as she jingle-jangled about the house, an actress from a Bollywood film. On closer examination Harry saw that Liana had in fact fashioned Alice into a younger version of herself.

Liana said, ‘What a creative girl your Alice is. She took one look at this dying place and threw out a dozen good ideas about how to buck it up. I will speak to my agent. We could set a TV series here. I see how you look at me as if I were a vulgarian. But we are conspiring together to get the house earning its living. We will fill it with young artists.’

‘How young?’

‘Do not risk your life by telling Mamoon this. He is already scorching in his room because lunch is delayed. But, thanks to Alice, there is asparagus, figs, red snapper, ice cream and the best mozzarella in the world — burrata — sent by my sister. Oh, but I am tearing my hair out with fear that he might be rude to her. Lately he’s been wild, because of you.’

When Harry asked her if she’d prepared Mamoon, as promised, for Alice, she was unconvincing. ‘Well, I did some ground work.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I insisted that although she’d never heard of Mamoon the writer, she would come to think highly of him, as she did of the great designers.’

He shivered. ‘You compared them?’

‘It was the context.’

‘What if he says something mad to her?’

‘I’ve warned him not to start talking about his dream. Hurry now, bring the minotaur before he blows up in rage.’

It was the middle of the afternoon when Harry crossed the yard to Mamoon’s room to fetch the sequestered old man, who was still bent over his stick. After the incident on the tennis court, Mamoon’s doctor had diagnosed a herniated disc rather than a pulled muscle, and advised Mamoon to have an operation, not that he could guarantee that it would work at the old man’s age. While Mamoon discussed his dilemma at length, he gobbled handfuls of painkillers and, according to Liana, had become more ornery and truculent than usual over what he saw as a future of helplessness and decrepitude.

‘Another morning of nothing,’ he said as Harry brought him into the kitchen and led him to his chair. Julia bustled over with his favourite sparkling water without ice.

Alice went to him, sat down, took his hand, and looked into his eyes. ‘Thank you for having me here,’ she said. ‘What a lovely place.’

‘My dear, we’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘Tell me, how is the world of fashion?’

‘It’s in not bad shape, thank you.’

‘Could you explain what the point of it is?’

‘Sorry?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘It’s business. We buy and sell and stop people getting cold. What is not the point of it?’

‘Don’t think news of you hasn’t reached me already,’ said Mamoon, looking her over. ‘Liana here told me you compared me to a tailor.’

‘Which tailor?’

A vein, which ran from Mamoon’s hairline to his brow, was throbbing. ‘A tailor or cobbler, or some such handyman. Am I mistaken, Liana?’

Alice glanced at Liana, who was watching them, holding her breath. As Liana had no idea what to say, Alice said, ‘Have you ever seen an Alexander McQueen jacket?’

‘Of course not. What are you talking about? Has this queen read my work? Can he read without moving his lips?’

Alice said, ‘Perhaps I did mention, to help me locate you, that you are a maestro like the maestro Valentino, beloved of many, including Liana.’

‘You located me, did you? You did compare us.’

‘It is an honour, perhaps.’

‘In what possible way could that be an honour?’

‘Well, it is, to me.’

Mamoon was beginning to look irritable. He said, ‘We are talking about appearance only with these people.’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Sorry?’

Alice said, ‘It’s more than that. We are discussing how something should be made. How it looks. How it is. An attitude.’

‘An attitude. How do you mean?’

She said, ‘A kiss. .’

‘Speak up. I’m almost deaf.’

‘A kiss, a curse, a cup, a shoe, a hem, a cardigan, a watch, a joke, an act of politeness — and of course a sentence, a paragraph, a page. . Don’t all have to have style, grace, flair — and wit?’

‘Of course.’

‘Art isn’t only in a book?’

Harry whispered, ‘Flaubert wrote, “Style is life.”’

Mamoon said, ‘A more universal beauty might be something to strive for.’

‘Good,’ Alice said, sighing. ‘Yes.’

‘Good. Thank God, good,’ said Liana. She held up the wine. ‘This is the Guigal 2009. Or would you prefer the Chablis?’

‘Quiet please, Liana.’