The Empty Family (28 page)

Now that he had learned to cook rice and chicken, he could do his own shopping, look at different cuts of meat in the butcher’s shop and talk to Super, when he went to see him, about types of vegetables and varieties of couscous.

*

When he appeared first Super made no comment on his absence but one evening as they both sat at the cash register and Baldy passed by the window Super told him he knew what had happened on the night of the concert. Malik froze for a moment and then looked at him, saying nothing.

‘He’s a big bully, that’s what he is, and he loses his mind when he smokes, but he won’t be smoking any more,’ Super said. ‘He was told to give up the hashish. We had a meeting with him. It was turning him into a maniac. We don’t want any trouble in the street. If the police found out that he was smoking and then blaming what he did on other people, they could close us all down. So he was told to keep you out of sight until you would not be noticed. The police would have heard. He was lucky not to be sent home.’

Malik wanted to ask Super what he had been told about the night of the concert but instead he listened closely as Super put all the blame on Baldy.

‘Baldy is lucky that you and Abdul don’t make a complaint about him. He knows that. So if you have any more trouble from him, just let me know.’

Malik nodded.

‘What were the two of you doing that night anyway?’ Super asked him.

‘Nothing,’ Malik said.

‘I told Baldy I didn’t want to hear anything about it,’ Super said. ‘That he was to quit the smoking and control his temper.’

Malik nodded again and looked away.

‘But then he told me,’ Super said.

For a second Malik thought that he should run out of the shop, go back to his room and curl up on the bed.

‘He gave me a description of what he saw.’

Super’s tone was cold and factual. They sat at the cash register in silence. Malik could not tell whether Super was angry or not. As a customer came into the shop, Malik turned his head away. Super stood up eventually as the customer came with a full basket of groceries and keyed the prices in. Slowly Malik filled two plastic bags with the groceries, and the customer, having paid and waited for his change, left the supermarket.

‘I asked him if he had told anybody else,’ Super said. ‘And he told me that he had not. So I warned him that if he told one other person what he had told me he would get more than a beating with the leg of a chair. And he knew I meant it.’

Malik glanced at Super; he saw that he was smiling.

‘And as for you …’

‘What?’

‘Oh nothing. You know what.’

Malik looked at him and nodded.

‘You’re lucky I heard it before anyone else,’ Super said. ‘That’s all.’

He stood up and walked to the door.

‘No one else has a clue what happened. They all think Baldy smoked too much before the concert and lost it. They all blame him. But Abdul knows I know.’

‘Did you say something to him?’

‘No. I looked at him. That was enough. I looked at him long and hard.’

One day a week later when he came back from work during his lunch-break with a bag of groceries, Malik saw that another bed had been moved into his room. He checked his own suitcase to make sure it had not been interfered with and then he checked the fridge to see if anything had been taken. There was no sign of anything missing or anything strange. Just a new bed placed parallel to his. No sheets or blankets or anything. He wondered if anyone else besides Baldy had a key but realized that he did not know. This room had been his alone for so long that he found himself panicking at the idea that someone else had been here, or that someone else was planning to move in. He hated the idea of someone intruding, maybe even two or three people carrying in the bed and looking around the room. He shivered as he stood there and went back to work feeling almost angry.

Later, he saw Baldy but said nothing about the bed. Baldy was busy as usual and Malik knew that he would get no information from him if he asked why it was there or who had carried it up the stairs.

For a week it stood there like a ghost, like something he had imagined in the night. He looked at it in the morning and smiled at the idea that it might have come into the room of its own accord.

One night soon afterwards when he came back in the evening and was getting ready to cook, he saw that Abdul’s suitcase was on the new bed and there were also sheets and blankets and pillows with white pillowcases. It seemed like a joke. Just the previous day Abdul had studiously and openly avoided his gaze when he had passed the Four Corners. Surely, Malik thought, he was not arriving now to share the room with him! If it was a joke, Malik thought, he could not imagine who was playing it. But still, it could not be serious. The only person who could authorize Abdul’s coming here was Baldy, and Malik knew that this was the last thing Baldy would want to do. He touched the suitcase for a moment and then edged it open. He knew from the clothes at the top that it was definitely Abdul’s. Abdul would be finishing work within an hour.

He began to boil the rice and fry some lamb he had bought. It was a warm night and he had opened the door on to the rooftop. As the food cooked he walked into the main room as though he were Abdul. He turned off the main light and switched on the lamp beside the bed and then he made his own bed properly. He watched the time. He would be able, he knew, to eat before Abdul finished work. He wondered if Abdul had actually been in the room already and supposed that he had since his suitcase was here.

Once he had eaten he went to the rooftop, where he had made a seat for himself with old cushions that Super had given him. He was determined not to look at his watch or think any more about what was going to happen next. Nonetheless, he remained tense enough to start when he heard voices and a key turning in the lock. As soon as he looked into the room, he saw Abdul and Baldy entering from the hallway. They both studied him suspiciously and it looked for a moment as if they were expecting him to offer an explanation for his presence or indeed for theirs. Both of them appeared uncomfortable and he realized slowly that they were staring at him because they could not face each other.

‘So this is it,’ Baldy said.

Abdul did not say anything.

‘I’ll get you keys tomorrow,’ Baldy said.

Abdul’s skin was darker than Malik remembered and he appeared taller in the low-ceilinged room. The top buttons of his shirt were open and Malik could see his hairy chest. Abdul was sweating. As Baldy turned to go, Abdul swung towards him but then he stopped himself. Malik noticed that he took up a lot of space in the room. He stood against the wall, breathing heavily as though trying to control himself. Baldy slipped out of the room and could be heard closing the door that led to the stairs.

‘Are you hungry?’ Malik asked.

‘Do you have keys?’ Abdul replied.

‘Yes.’

‘Give them to me.’

Malik handed over his keys. Without speaking, Abdul walked out of the apartment.

Malik woke up to the sound of Abdul undressing and then heard him getting into bed. Soon Abdul was asleep. Malik could make out his body in the bed. Abdul’s back was turned, but even so Malik felt almost happy that he was there beside him, if still puzzled at why Baldy had sent him. In the morning before he left Abdul handed him back the keys.

Over the following days Abdul came and went without speaking to him or even catching his eye. A few times at night when he asked Abdul if he was hungry, he responded by walking out of the apartment and not returning until late. In the morning, he took his clothes into the bathroom, had his shower, dressed himself, and went to work without coming back into the room where Malik was.

When Super asked Malik how things were going, he shrugged and said that they were going fine.

‘You have company in the room?’ Super asked.

Malik nodded. He did not know what Super was going to say next.

‘I thought that you were lonely there on your own,’ Super said.

Malik glanced at him sharply.

‘So I told Baldy that he was to move Abdul in there.’

‘And what did Baldy say?’

‘He asked if I would promise to leave him alone about smoking hash if he did that and stop accusing him of disturbing the peace of the street.’

Malik said nothing.

‘So I said I would at least for the moment if he moved Abdul in.’

The next day at lunchtime Malik went to a
locutorio
and gave them Fatima’s number. Once more, he was surprised by how quickly he was put through and how clear her voice was.

‘There’s no news here at all,’ she said. ‘Except business is bad. Your father is well and your sister is well and all her family are well.’

‘And will you tell them that I’m well?’

‘Oh I will, Malik, and they’ll be glad to hear that you phoned as usual.’

He waited in case she would say something else. He could hear the chickens squawking in the background and other noises too. He began to speak but he hesitated.

‘Did you say something?’ she asked.

‘No, no,’ he said.

‘So there’s no other news?’

‘No.’

‘You sound as though you’re just around the corner.’

‘It’s a good line.’

‘Well, I’ll tell your father you called.’

‘Thank you very much. I hope you don’t mind me calling.’

‘Of course I don’t. And it’s great to hear your voice.’

‘Goodbye now,’ he said.

‘Goodbye.’

*

At work they received a new consignment of phones that included not only models with built-in cameras but also iPhones. One of his colleagues made a deal with Baldy that he could have one for a reduced price and thus have his own music downloaded on to it, which he could display to customers. He offered to sell Malik his cassette player and his cassettes for a very low price. Malik thought about it during the morning and went home at lunchtime and got the money from his suitcase.

That night when Abdul came in, Malik had music playing. For the first time Abdul went on to the roof and sat on the cushions and accepted a cup of tea and a glass of water. When he came back into the room Malik showed him the cassettes; he examined them closely, going through them one by one, leaving a few aside.

‘Do you want me to put one of those on?’ Malik asked.

Abdul nodded and handed him one. It was the soundtrack of
Kuch Kuch Hota Hai
.

‘You like Shahrukh Khan?’ Malik asked.

‘I like the film, but I like the music more.’

As the music played Abdul lay on the bed with his hands behind his head. For the first time he seemed relaxed.

The following evening when they had turned off the light, Abdul asked Malik quietly if he would put on the cassette again and let it play out while they fell asleep. Without switching on the light, Malik managed to put the cassette on, turning the sound down so that it was not too loud. Before he got back under the blankets, he asked Abdul if it was all right, or if he wanted it louder.

‘No, it’s fine,’ he said.

He was aware of Abdul lying awake.

‘Abdul?’ he whispered.

‘Yes?’

He left silence and then was sorry he had spoken.

‘Yes?’ Abdul said again.

‘Can I come over to your bed?’

‘Is the door locked?’

‘It is. But I’ll put a chair up against it as well.’

‘Will you do that?’

Malik found a chair and placed it against the front door of the apartment. Before he went back into the room he listened to the sound of the music. Slowly he approached Abdul’s bed. Since the night was warm he had only a sheet and a light blanket over him. Abdul was on his side so Malik moved in close to him, letting his face rub gently against Abdul’s hairy chest. He put his left hand on Abdul’s back and then edged his other hand down between Abdul’s legs. He listened to the music and to Abdul’s breathing and felt his own heart beating and Abdul’s heart beating. The window on to the roof was open and he loved the idea of the hot humid night outside in the city, people walking through the streets, traffic moving, the world awake, while he and Abdul lay still and the music wafted towards them.

He wondered would they do this every night, or what had been going on in Abdul’s mind until now, but then he tried not to think. He snuggled in closer, put his lips hard against Abdul’s chest. He desperately wanted to open his mouth and lick Abdul’s neck and chest and his face but he had decided that he would make no further move until Abdul did. He knew that the cassette would come to an end, and when it did and he heard the click he moved his hand towards Abdul’s hand and squeezed it and then got out of Abdul’s bed and slipped quietly into his own and lay there happy until he fell asleep.

He could never be sure what Abdul would do. Sometimes, if he put the music on after the light had been turned off, Abdul would turn on the light again and cross the room and turn off the cassette and put it back in its case. Twice, when Abdul came home and did not speak and did not want any food, he tried to ask him what was wrong, but Abdul responded by walking brusquely out of the flat and staying away for several hours. A few nights, however, they lay naked together for hours and he could feel Abdul’s need for him and he knew by his touch and how close he wanted to be to him that Abdul had been thinking about this, that it was not casual, or a mistake in any way.

He wanted to whisper to him, ask him what was wrong and why they could not lie like this together every night, but he knew that he must wait. He simply did not know what the reason was. It must be that Abdul was ashamed or afraid, and he wondered if he would change or if the shame or the fear were fixed in him as the silence on bad, brooding nights seemed fixed in him. On one of those nights together he had for the first time since the episode at the Four Corners put his mouth around Abdul’s penis and played with him between his legs and moved his mouth up and down on him. When Abdul had gasped, he could feel the spurts of sperm firing through his penis and he took the sperm in his mouth and held it there for a few seconds before spitting it out. Then he changed his position in the bed so that his face was against Abdul’s chest. Even though the music had stopped he lay there with him for a long time before going back to his own bed.