33 West Read online

  ‘You’ll be going to London. There will be so much more to do. So much more to see. It’ll be a big change anney.’

  What her mother didn’t say was that she was going to Hounslow. Kulvinder didn’t expect to be picked up at Heathrow and then dropped off fifteen minutes later. It was a bit like living in an extension of the airport. Terminal Five and a bit. Arjun worked a short drive away in Acton, his parents lived barely one street away. Her world had actually grown smaller.

  ‘It’s an adjustment innit,’ Arjun said once over dinner. ‘It’ll take some time.’

  Time. It had nearly been a year. Kulvinder imagined her mother-in-law kept a calendar, where she marked off each day that her son remained childless. She had even mumbled something about her seeing a specialist. Kulvinder shrugged it off. What her mother-in-law didn’t know was simply that she and Arjun rarely had sex. Some nights they even slept in different rooms. Her husband had tried to talk to her about it, but was too timid to make it an issue, and he certainly couldn’t bring it up with his parents. He convinced himself it was all part of this mystery process they called a marriage. The weeks became months. And their lack of intimacy became normal.

  It was some time after five, the sun a few hours from setting. Kulvinder started to walk towards home, changed her mind and headed to Hounslow Central station. She wanted to drift. She took the Tube heading east and got off at Hammersmith. She was in her work clothes, a strange mix of east and west: black trousers with a light orange kameez and chuni, and a denim jacket. Following a group of office workers she ended up outside a pub on Shepherd’s Bush Road. She stood very still.

  She had drunk alcohol before. Early on in the marriage Arjun made dinner one night, he opened a bottle of red wine. Kulvinder took a sip and nothing more, much to his chagrin. Another time she had drunk champagne with her colleagues at a Christmas dinner. Alcohol was a taboo, another barrier between herself and the life she had imagined when she was at university. Yet still she continued to hover by the entrance. A man coming out to smoke a cigarette held the door open for her.

  ‘You coming in?’ he asked.

  She nodded and stepped just inside the building. If it was the Wild West, the bowtie wearing pianist might have stopped playing, or the needle would have skipped on the gramophone. The room hushed, the drinkers glanced at her, and then business resumed. Kulvinder walked gingerly to the bar. There was a bit of a wait and then a space opened up. She stood perfectly straight, paying close attention to what other people were ordering, not quite sure what words corresponded to which drinks.

  The barman looked in her direction, and raised a finger to say ‘shoot’.

  ‘I’ll have a pint of your best lager, please,’ Kulvinder said mechanically.

  The man raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said. He had an Australian accent, which tallied with his blonde hair and broad shoulders.

  Kulvinder paused, ‘No. Is there a menu?’

  He laughed. ‘Why don’t you have a glass of wine?’

  Kulvinder shook her head.

  ‘A Pimm’s?’

  ‘No. Just give me a lager, OK?’

  The barman poured the pint, his hand lingering as he gave Kulvinder her change. There was a moment of eye contact, then he moved on to another customer, a knowing smile on his face. Kulvinder took her pint and sat at a small table near the entrance to the pub. She held the pint like it was milk of magnesia, blowing on the foam and taking the shortest of sips. It tasted terrible. She looked up and caught the barman watching her. She took a longer sip to show him she was in control. It was amazing – from sip to sip the taste of the lager changed. She stared into the half-empty pint glass and believed that it was half-full. She imagined that the barman was called Bruce or Greg and that he worked part-time and acted part-time. Or maybe he was a model. Whatever he was, he wasn’t Arjun. He wasn’t stocky, he didn’t shave his head, and he was most certainly not an accountant.

  Kulvinder finished the pint and stood up, feeling an unexpected giddy rush. She steadied herself and went to the ladies’, splashing water on her face before striding past the bar on her way out, resolute that she would not look back at the barman. She went to the nearest shop and bought a packet of mints, ate five on the Tube journey home. The swaying of the train causing small waves of consternation in her stomach.

  Arjun sat in the living room with the volume of the TV turned low. He held his mobile in his left hand, checking the screen every other minute. He hadn’t eaten. He liked to have thought that he was waiting for Kulvinder to come home so they could eat together; what that really meant was that he was waiting for her to cook. His father’s generation expected to be fed and looked after by their wives. In his generation it wasn’t so clear. Even if he had gone to India to find a bride.

  He looked at the framed photograph of them taken at their wedding in Jalandhar. Kulvinder looked beautiful in her red sari: slim, almond eyes, high cheekbones, fair skin. He looked dehydrated with dark patches around his eyes. He tried his best to quell the thought that he wasn’t a good physical match for her, but every now and then it resurfaced like a whale gasping for air. His wife was over two hours late home. He looked at his mobile and wondered if calling her would show his concern, or his control. He heard the key in the lock and promptly turned the volume of the TV up.

  Kulvinder took off her jacket and went upstairs. She changed into her house salwar kameez then went downstairs. Arjun was in the hall.

  ‘I was worried,’ he said, reaching out and touching her arm.

  ‘I had to work late, then went for a walk, sorry,’ she replied at first sounding harsh then softening. She touched his hand but didn’t hold it. ‘What shall we eat? There’s some alloo gobi left over from last night.’

  Arjun nodded then said, ‘No wait, why don’t we eat out tonight?’

  They walked along the London Road and then settled on a chicken restaurant, which was a cut above the fast food places but not by much. Arjun ordered at the till and then they took their seats by the window. The pause before the food arrived was filled with casual talk about work. Kulvinder still felt a little tipsy. The food had helped steady her, what remained was a freer sense of what she could say. She got up and ordered two coffees, then sat back down next to her husband. She didn’t want to be staring him in the face.

  ‘Did you think it would be like this?’ she asked.

  ‘What, the chicken?’

  ‘No. Marriage.’

  Arjun put his coffee cup down and looked at his wife. She didn’t look back. He realised that they were having a conversation that could shape the rest of the evening, perhaps even the rest of their lives.

  ‘Honestly, I didn’t think it’d be like this. I knew things would take time, but I don’t feel like we’ve got to know each other, it’s like we’ve got off on the wrong foot.’

  Kulvinder didn’t quite understand the simile but nodded. Her hand crept closer to his. Arjun expected her to talk; when she kept quiet, he continued.

  ‘Sometimes I feel like you’re not there. I mean you’re there but your thoughts are somewhere else. Like you drift off.’

  ‘Drift off?’

  ‘I don’t mean it exactly like that. I guess what it boils down to is that we don’t know each other well enough. Maybe we don’t know each other at all. What do you think?’

  Kulvinder moved her hand back and drank some coffee.

  ‘You know I had a very different life in India. My family and my friends. I thought coming to London would be a pacy lifestyle, but we don’t seem to move. We go from day to day and nothing changes. There’s no excitement.’

  ‘No excitement? Well, what do you want to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Kulvinder drank some more coffee. She looked at him with a glint in her eye. ‘Tell me one of your secrets.’

  ‘One of my secrets?’

  ‘Yes,’ she touched his hand. ‘Everyone married couple has secrets, isn’t that what they say?’

&nb
sp; Arjun made a non-committal sound then said the word ‘secret’ a few times, like he was looking up its meaning in a dictionary.

  ‘OK, so here goes. But are you sure you want to hear this?’

  Kulvinder nodded.

  ‘Ok. So before I decided to follow the traditional Indian path to marriage, I went out with a girl for a couple of years.’

  ‘A girl?’ Kulvinder’s nostrils flared, ‘What girl?’

  Arjun could feel a flop sweat coming in. ‘It was nothing serious … Well, it was quite serious … But it ended. And it was good that it ended.’

  ‘Who was she?’

  ‘She was from my university.’

  ‘What was her name?’

  Arjun wished he had kept his mouth shut.

  ‘Louise.’

  Louise. Kulvinder could picture Louise and Arjun together, eating ice cream and strolling on a beach.

  ‘You went out with a white girl,’ she said more as a statement than a question. ‘Well, I have a secret for you. Before I married you I went out with an Australian man.’

  ‘An Australian man?’

  ‘Yes, Bruce was his name.’

  Kulvinder put her jacket on and got up to go. Arjun trailed behind her and kept a safe distance as they walked home. He caught up with her as she opened the front door.

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ he pleaded. ‘You’re acting like I cheated on you.’

  ‘Have you cheated on me?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ Kulvinder snapped.

  ‘Bed?’

  ‘Come on before I change my mind.’

  Arjun followed her up the stairs, almost tripping as he tried to take two steps at once. Kulvinder held him on the landing and kissed him. It was an angry, territorial kiss. She thought of Louise as she undressed, while Arjun wondered how his wife had gone out with an Australian while she was living in India. There had to be more than this. But for one night, it was more than enough.

  RICHMOND

  I ♥ Richmond

  Jonathan Green

  Less than 1 minute ago via web…

  RichmondGirl: I love you. Goodbye.

  RichmondGirl: Hello?

  RichmondGirl: Hello? Are you still there?

  KewGuy: I love you. Goodbye.

  RichmondGirl: So, this is it. This is really the end? But it can’t be, not now. I love you!

  KewGuy: Not like this. But look for me again in the spring, in the cherry blossom.

  RichmondGirl: But I won’t hear from you again? Not like this?

  KewGuy: You know you can always talk to me if you need me, no matter where you are.

  RichmondGirl: Making love, talking into the early hours, then making love again and falling asleep with the dawn.

  RichmondGirl: Right now? Don’t go yet. Talk to me some more. Talk to me right through the night, like we used to when we first met.

  KewGuy: It’s time for me to go.

  RichmondGirl: So what happens now?

  KewGuy: I’m glad.

  RichmondGirl: I’ve taken the flat off the market.

  KewGuy: Thank you.

  RichmondGirl: In every plant, in every blossom, in every leaf. And I’ll go there again and know that you’re there too. Always.

  RichmondGirl: I imagined you in every tree, every flower, every blade of grass. It’s a place of life, not death, and there you’ll live again.

  RichmondGirl: But as I watched the last trickle of grey powder take flight on the breeze I felt warm like I used to feel when you held me after sex.

  RichmondGirl: Anyway – I did it. I did want you asked – what you wanted – and I cried as I did it.

  RichmondGirl: I ended up under a cherry tree. It was covered in blossom and it felt so peaceful there. Suddenly everything about it seemed right.

  KewGuy: It sounds magical.

  RichmondGirl: I can’t believe we’d never been there before. It’s beautiful, it really is. And it’s so you. The Palm House is something else.

  KewGuy: And do you know what the best part about it was? I shared it with you.

  RichmondGirl: So I paid up and went in and you completed your journey at last.

  RichmondGirl: But you never did. We went for coffee instead. Then supper. And we kissed outside the Tube and I knew then that this was something special.

  RichmondGirl: And then I really realised for the first time where I was – outside Kew Gardens. The place you were going to when we first met.

  RichmondGirl: I couldn’t leave you there among the fag butts and the leaves and watch you join the stream of rubbish trickling down the drain.

  RichmondGirl: It was the right time – I just knew it was. But I couldn’t do it there, the rain pattering on the roof of the shelter.

  RichmondGirl: And do you know what I did? I sat in the bus stop. I must have been there for over an hour. I watched four buses go past.

  KewGuy: You were always better with anniversaries than me.

  RichmondGirl: Do you know what today is? Today’s the anniversary of our first meeting at the bus stop.

  KewGuy: Tell me about it.

  RichmondGirl: I did it. Today. I did what you asked me. Even though it broken my heart again for a moment, I did it.

  .

  .

  .

  RichmondGirl: I know. But let me enjoy it a while longer while I can. We ended up on Richmond Green, outside The Cricketer’s, and watched the sun go down.

  KewGuy: But you know this has to end sometime, don’t you?

  RichmondGirl: To be honest I take you most places with me now, hidden away inside my bag. Truth is I’ve got used to having you around again.

  RichmondGirl: Do you know what we did today? This’ll make you smile – wherever you are. We went shopping.

  .

  .

  .

  RichmondGirl: At least that was what I let you believe. My knight in shining armour.

  KewGuy: As I remember, you got lost in the maze and I had to guide you out again.

  RichmondGirl: But there’s so much history tied up with the place already, I felt our history would be swamped. Besides, we only went there the once.

  RichmondGirl: Don’t get me wrong, it’s a stunning setting – the red brick, the king’s beasts, the lush green lawns and all…

  RichmondGirl: I got as far as the gates of Hampton Court today. In fact I got as far as the ticket office and then I turned around and walked away.

  .

  .

  .

  KewGuy: And your love. That’s what sustains me.

  RichmondGirl: All?

  KewGuy: Still is. Words are all I have now.

  RichmondGirl: I waited for you outside on the grass and watched the joggers and dog walkers on the footpath. It was always words with you, wasn’t it?

  RichmondGirl: You always used to want to read everything, so I did what I did last time we went there together.

  RichmondGirl: It was Marble Hill Park today. I went round the house, cursorily reading the information on display in the rooms, but I didn’t stay long.

  .

  .

  .

  RichmondGirl: But that was never you. It seemed like a whole other life away.

  RichmondGirl: I wandered down to St Mary’s afterwards, just for a look at the old place again – must be something to do with this nostalgic kick I’m on.

  RichmondGirl: You weren’t to know.

  KewGuy: I’m sorry.

  RichmondGirl: But we ran out of time, didn’t we?

  KewGuy: I know. That’s something else I wish I’d been able to give you, so that you wouldn’t be alone now.

  RichmondGirl: And I couldn’t help thinking that one of those children should have been ours.

  RichmondGirl: I went home through Bushy Park and watched the deer, the ducks down at the fountain and the kids in the playground.

  RichmondGirl: They wanted to know how I was and kept asking how I was coping. I couldn’t stop smiling, knowing you we
re there too. It was our secret.

  RichmondGirl: Chris and Julia invited me over for lunch yesterday, over at their new place in Teddington. You went too, but I didn’t tell them that.

  .

  .

  .

  RichmondGirl: That’s true.

  KewGuy: No, it didn’t. But then not much stops Tommy once he’s put his mind to something.

  RichmondGirl: Didn’t stop Tommy though, did it?

  KewGuy: It was a hot day, as I recall, but never so hot that you’d want to jump into the Thames surely, I thought.

  KewGuy: I remember that time the Thames burst its banks and people were diving off the wall outside the White Cross into the river.

  RichmondGirl: I sat there and watched the world and his wife go by. At least that was how it seemed to me.

  RichmondGirl: By the time I reached Richmond itself again I was ready for a drink. So I got a pint and sat by the river.

  RichmondGirl: Anyway, I cut through Kew and joined the Thames Path at Ferry Lane. I went right past Kew Gardens and the Old Deer Park, past Richmond Lock.

  RichmondGirl: I want to remember you as you were, not as a box sliding between tatty red curtains as some old biddy plays the organ badly.

  RichmondGirl: I walked past the crematorium but didn’t go in. I’ve only been there the once, and once was enough.

  RichmondGirl: I went for a walk along the river instead. I started at the White Hart in Mortlake, where we watched the Boat Race, and then headed west.

  RichmondGirl: I thought about going to Ham House today. We used to talk about going there, but never did, so I didn’t today. Couldn’t see the point.

  KewGuy: It’s funny how a change in perspective changes so much more than just that.

  KewGuy: I like hearing about all the old places, all the things we used to do together – evening shopping in Kingston.

  RichmondGirl: Shopping in Kingston was never your favourite activity, was it? So I got a coffee to go and went home.

  RichmondGirl: You were still with me, so I got on the 65 but took the bus to Kingston. I picked up some things in town but I felt like I’d lost my way.