Hanif Kureishi - The Last Word

‘What follows from that, sir?’

‘Don’t forsake your desire, even if you’re punished. Take the punishment gracefully, as a tribute, and never complain.’

In the afternoon, he and Lucy stood outside the hotel, waiting for Julia, who had misplaced her bra in the room. Lucy kissed him; he held her tight.

‘Three’s always a party,’ she said.

‘You are irresistible, Lucy,’ he said. ‘Last night was so much fun I can only contemplate an eternity of regret and self-recrimination.’

‘For not having a laugh more often?’

He fumbled in his pockets. ‘Here. Perhaps the closing of the abattoir ruined your life too.’

He gave her almost £100 and she handed it back, saying, ‘You’ll need it to buy clothes for the babies. Your partner, Alice, she’s having two, isn’t she?’

‘Yes. Twins.’

‘When did you find out?’

‘At the scan the other day, the nurse said, “There’s your baby — oh, and there’s another one. Looks like you’ve got two there.”’

‘You’ll cope,’ she said, putting her phone number in his phone. ‘You’re a joker, and you’re never happier than when you’re with a woman. It’s like you want to suck us right up. Didn’t your mother have twins?’

Usually he said as little as he could get away with. Like his father, he wanted to be a listener: it seemed safer. But the drugs had undone his tongue and condemned him to the truth, at last. When Julia came out and joined them, he found himself telling them that his older brothers were identical twins, and his mother had been a paranoid psychotic. Distracted by voices, she had gone to the river and drowned herself.

‘“Fear death by water,” the Tarot says. She haunts me, and I think of her floating, like Ophelia.’

‘How bloody awful,’ said Julia, kissing him.

‘It’s the easiest death — you can be gone in thirty seconds if you keep your mouth open.’ He added, ‘What is the desire for death the desire for? Wasn’t my mother always going in that direction? We three boys, who would have maddened a stone, were lucky to have her for as long as we did. I’d say she was too obedient.’

‘To what?’

‘I guess to one fascist voice speaking in her head. Far from being too mad, as some people said, she was too orthodox.’

Lucy banged Harry on the arm. ‘Julia told me you’re weird.’

‘If I’ve been granted a flicker of madness, I’ll be sure to take care of it.’

‘She said at breakfast you were making a list of people with a parent who killed themselves.’

‘And of those who are drawn to suicides. All Hitler’s women — I think there were seven — killed themselves. It is a very particular sort of death to live with. The worst thing that could happen has already happened. I’ve been wondering what sort of psychology it makes.’ He said that if you have a parent who kills themself, you never lose the fear that everything you most loved could be taken from you. ‘This morning, as you beauties slept, it occurred to me that I should attempt a small book about suiciders and those who love them. I’ll talk to Dad about my mother, meet her friends and the writers she was supposedly fond of. Be her biographer.’

When Harry’s car rolled up at the house, Julia’s brother Scott came out into the front yard and stood there, looking at Harry sitting in his car, the two girls silent and watchful.

Julia whispered, ‘He’s protective, but he knows what you mean to me.’

Harry lowered the window. ‘Good afternoon.’

‘All well?’ said the brother.

He made a gesture at the girls and they scuttled inside the house. Scott stood in front of the car. Harry went to seal the window once more, but couldn’t manage it.

‘You have a good one?’ Scott asked again, without raising his voice, but unable to resist a little gob on the ground.

‘Yes, thanks,’ said Harry. He thought he might reverse away fast, but wondered if that might seem impolite. The two of them looked at one another until at last the brother stood aside.

‘Is there something seriously wrong?’ Mamoon said. ‘Why are you humming a cheerful tune?’

‘Could I pour honey on your yogurt?’

‘It would be the first time, but thank you, Harry,’ said Mamoon, sitting down at the kitchen table and smiling at the younger man. ‘What is the source of your good cheer, my biographfiend friend? Is it because you have discovered I am a homosexual with several love children — thus ensuring you have the scandalous bestseller you require to secure your coming career as a television presenter?’

‘I will go for a long walk and contemplate your life, before returning to London to write it all down in as filthy a fashion as I can, with Alice by my side.’

‘Thank God I will never read it. And Liana and I shall have some peace at last.’

Julia rushed into the house and flung a large bag onto the floor, followed by another. ‘Sorry, had to wait for my brother to give me a lift.’ And indeed Harry could see the scowling sibling through the window, before he took off. She said, ‘Are you ready? Shall I put my bags in your car?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I’m coming with you,’ she said. ‘To London. Didn’t Alice tell you?’

‘No.’

‘She’s big and tired now, and I’m going to help her clear out the flat and get you into the new place you’re renting. You’ll be writing; she says you won’t lift a finger and she can’t do it herself. Be sweet, Harry. Don’t worry, no one will say anything. We get along. We’ll have the time of our lives.’

The last time Harry and Julia had gone together, in the fields a few days before, Julia had once more begged Harry to take her away with him. It had to be now, she said; there was not one thing left for her here. Liana was cruel, and Ruth was wild with hatred for herself and everyone around her. She had never liked Julia, and wanted her to leave the house: Julia’s ‘disapproving’ stares were dragging her down, and repelling her boyfriends. Likewise, Julia’s spirit was deteriorating; she dreamed people were trying to kill her; she was afraid to go to sleep. ‘I’m a blink away from being a cleaner,’ she said. ‘I’ll always work, Harry, I’ll never be a burden to you.’

Harry said it was impossible; she didn’t know London, which was too fast, big and expensive for her. How would she survive? To her credit, she’d taken no notice.

‘What’s going on? Is everyone leaving?’ said Liana, sweeping in, in her dressing gown.

‘Yes.’

‘Even you, Julia, surely not? What about the ironing? Who gave you the right?’

‘I went and punched my own ticket this morning, Liana. Mum’s upstairs, doing the bedrooms. She’ll cover for me.’

‘No, sorry, won’t allow it.’ Liana wailed, ‘Alice isn’t here — both my daughters have left! The place will seem stone cold and silent, and I love the voices and cooking and activity! Mamoon, what will I do?’

‘Liana, what do you usually do here?’

‘I look after you. I’m a carer.’

‘Yes, you’re a wife.’

‘But are you a husband?’

‘Now look here, Liana, if you’ve woken up in one of your moods, you can jolly well go back to bed, after you’ve made my coffee and brought me two boiled eggs, please.’

‘Mamoon, you need to ask yourself some serious questions. All that time alone in your study hasn’t been good for your sanity. You’ve even been singing to yourself in your sleep.’

‘Singing? In my study I am working — and only for you. Who in reality puts this damn food on the table?’

‘All you’re doing is pleasuring yourself, Mamoon.’

‘You say that now, after all this time, when you know quite well that it is what I do, who I am—’