Hanif Kureishi - The Last Word

‘You’re a ghoul trying to play God with me. It was bloody well private.’

‘You forfeited that right when you invited me here to tell the story of your life. Why worry, when you know that sexuality makes fools of everyone?’

Mamoon told Harry that he could not confirm his material, but Harry explained that Marion had shown him the letters. When Mamoon asked why Marion would do that, Harry replied, ‘The life and the writing make one continuous book. It’s the same for all writers.’

‘Marion — I mean Liana — said you’re the sort to want to appear on television! You’re trying to make a career out of me, young man!’

‘We’re strapped together, sir. We sink or swim as one beast.’

‘Yours is a work of envy, and you are a third-rate semi-failure of a parasite who has got by on meretricious charm and fading looks. Did you ever read a biographer who could write as well as his subject?’

As if this wasn’t enough, Mamoon grabbed Harry by the lapels and tried to throw him against the car.

‘You’re fired, Harry. You’re never going to finish this work of tittle-tattle and when I come in from work tomorrow lunchtime I want to know this ridiculous misadventure is over! We’ve got another writer lined up to take over. He wears a tie!’ He put his face close to Harry’s. ‘Remember this, little boy. You know nothing. You are nothing. You will always be nothing.’

Mamoon seemed to have exhausted himself and began to cough. Harry led him back into the kitchen and sat him down with a glass of whisky.

‘You want me to call Liana?’ He guessed she was upstairs somewhere, tearing at something or listening to Leonard Cohen.

Mamoon shook his head and said, as Harry went to the door, ‘Do I look particularly ancient and infirm to you? Have I suddenly aged? Don’t leave me — I don’t think I have long.’

But Harry hurried outside and sat in the car for a bit, collecting himself, before driving to Julia’s and picking up the key she’d left for him.

Sliding up the passage, he saw that Ruth was in the living room, wearing the bright shirt Liana had worn to Mamoon’s birthday dinner. She was sitting at the table with two of her paramours, in a smog of dope smoke, drinking Mamoon’s champagne in beer glasses and, Harry soon made out, discussing some money-making scheme involving forged signatures, which they were practising. Harry greeted them quietly. He interested them, unfortunately; one of the men stood up and shouted for him to sit down for a bevvy, and Ruth called, ‘Harry, Harry, Harry — won’t you grace us for a drink?’

Harry was sensible enough to continue to the woman he had come to see.

In the attic Julia was waiting in bed for him.

He stripped off his shirt. ‘Look!’

‘Gorgeous. Thanks — I’ve been waiting for this.’

He turned. ‘Notice the bruises!’

‘Oh my God, who did this? My brother? Is he back?’

‘Luckily not. Mamoon.’

She laughed. ‘Shut up.’

He took her hand and laid it against his face. ‘He’s dangerous for an old man, Julia, with strong wrists.’

‘Jesus, it’ll go a funny colour. You’ll look like an aubergine.’

‘That is a vegetable I don’t like. Here’s my phone. Photograph the injury. It’s all gone wrong. I’ve been sacked.’

She photographed him, before pulling the rest of his clothes off and sitting on top of him. Her kisses were calming.

‘I need your love, Julia.’

‘I know. Congrats, lover boy.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘You’ve been beaten as well as sacked. You must be doing good work.’

‘Yes, well, the old boy pretends to rise above the everyday stupidities, gazing into the immeasurable distance with that superior tortoise blink, presumably regretting all the sexual opportunities he eschewed. Then he goes berserk with the stick I carved for him.’

She began to fuck him, knowing he would relax. ‘Can I ask you something? I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. How many times did you have Alice while she was here?’

‘Just the once. We were going again when we were interrupted by you, thanks. I know you were pretending to work outside the room, ears vibrating. I added some keen grunts to flush you out with laughter.’

‘I wasn’t listening!’

‘With Alice, it’s only ever on her terms, like being granted an appointment with the queen. Her latest thing is claiming to be allergic to semen. She has the rigidity of a hurt child.’

‘I was going to say, abuse. You’ll get it less and less from her, pretty boy.’

‘How soon these things wear out. I’m nearly ready for a change.’

‘But you don’t like to let people go.’

‘Tell me what you really think.’

She popped a joint into his mouth and lit it for him. ‘You two might have a chance if she can appreciate you. She doesn’t notice that you’re funny and sweet. You say fascinating things, and you’re good company. Unlike the old man, you’re interested in other people. Plus, a gift for cunnilingus puts you in the top one per cent of all men.’

‘It takes practice to be such a gourmand.’

‘I always put musky perfume there for you, but I won’t ask you to do that for me right now, Harry.’ She turned off the lights, lit candles, and blew on his eyelids. ‘You seem cracked; you look like you’re going to cry on me.’

‘I’m down. This is our last night together. If I’m really sacked, I won’t be that displeased, to be honest. I’ve had enough of them both.’

‘I’ll set my alarm. I predict I can help you. I’m your girl, remember?’

‘If you save me this time,’ he said, ‘you’re a genius. I’ll take you out for an Indian.’

‘You will do something for me, Harry. You know what it is. I’ve asked you before. Take me with you, Fizzy Pants.’

‘Where to?’

‘London.’

He laughed. ‘I wish I could. As it is, I’m done for.’

In the morning he cried, ‘Why have they put floodlights outside the window?’

‘Er. . shut up. It’s called the sun,’ she said. ‘Are you ill?’

‘Julia, I’m going to give all this up and go back to London.’

‘You’re going to Liana now.’

‘I can’t face either of them. I can’t face anything.’

She pulled him out of bed, filled him with food, and got him into his car, giving him instructions all the while; he nodded and shook his head silently. She ensured he was back at the house and in the kitchen hunting for haddock, and running up a Bloody Mary to accompany the Arnold Bennett, before Liana finally made her entrance in a satin dressing gown.

As she stood there, taking in the day, feeling out her head with her fingers and deciding to be jaunty, he dashed across the kitchen to lay her favourite breakfast in front of her.

‘Here, Liana darling.’

‘ Ciao bello , you sweetie, this is too lovely, thanks. How did you know where to find this fish? What a treat.’

‘And here — for you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Some of those things you asked for.’

He handed her a saucer of pills. There had been a jar full of Es in Julia’s bedroom, as well as some hash, and a bag of mushrooms. She’d told him to take something for Liana. He was kind; he’d taken a lot.

All night he’d been persecuted by the ghost of Mamoon’s words, coming at him in sinister whispers: over-educated but mediocre, worthless, parasitic. .

‘You can be a fine boy,’ said Liana, dropping them into the pocket of her dressing gown.

‘A caress from nirvana,’ he said. ‘But how can Mamoon resist you when you wear that cream silk dressing gown, and pyjamas with high heels? Even I—’

‘Shut it, this early, and take your sunglasses off in here! Are you straight with me or any woman? Do you let any of them in? I don’t think you’re an idiot, just difficult, evasive, and probably a fraud. Darling, give me a little morning kiss on the lips.’