The Good Daughter (22 page)

I smiled weakly. When you're poor you don't want anyone to see you're poor.

When I got home Mum was watching TV. I sat on the sofa and waited for her to say something, but she ignored me.

‘Have you been to Refika's lately?'

Mum didn't answer.

‘There was this guy there, Edo, an apprentice hairdresser.'

Silence.

‘He's seventeen.' I tried to sound nonchalant. ‘It's the funniest thing, he lives in Clive Street,'

We watched TV for a few more minutes. ‘What does he look like?' she asked.

I held back my smile. She was hooked. ‘Wavy shoulder-length brown hair, beautiful green eyes, five foot ten, well built.' The words shot out of me in one breath. Mum's face was neutral, as if we were discussing the weather.

‘I should get my hair cut too,' she said, her eyes on the TV. ‘I haven't had it done since the
zabava
.'

I bit back a grin. We sat watching TV for another half an hour, then I kissed her on the cheek and took the phone.

‘Where's the change?' Mum asked.

I took a deep breath and turned. ‘I don't have any change.' I stroked my shiny hair. ‘He put in treatment and trimmed it.' I waited for her to explode into her usual rant about money not growing on trees.

‘Your eyes stand out more.'

I didn't know what to say. Once when I was ten years old we were in a milkbar and I'd asked for change to put in a jar for needy children. ‘We're needy too,' was her retort. I never asked for change again.

‘I'm ringing Dina.' I sidled out the door.

‘You'll never guess what happened to me,' I screeched when Brian answered.

‘I know you didn't buy a Calvin Klein shirt,' Brian said.

Sometimes he was such a girl. ‘I met the cutest guy,' I announced.

‘Do tell.'

For a moment my good mood deflated at his matter-of-fact tone. We were friends, I reminded myself. After I told him Mum's reaction about spending all the money I added, ‘I think if I told her I was knocked up, she'd smile and start planning the wedding with this guy.'

‘You need to use this. You could get your hair dyed every colour under the sun. All you have to do is tell your mum it's the only way to spend time with Edo.'

‘I can't milk Mum for money like that. She lives off the pension.'

‘So?' Brian said.

I told him how much Mum got a fortnight. ‘We barely have enough money to buy groceries and pay our bills. If Dido hadn't helped to pay off the house, when he sold his property in Bosnia, and we had to pay rent, we'd be in poverty.' Sometimes Brian could be so thick.

‘I didn't realise.'

‘Now you know why it's such a big deal that my Mum
isn't
making a big deal about the money.'

‘She's really desperate for you to be with a Bosnian. What does he look like?'

I described Edo. ‘He was wearing hooped earrings and a black T-shirt with red suspenders.'

‘I hate to tell you—' Brian started.

‘He's not!' I interrupted.

‘He so is,' he said.

‘So not.'

‘So is.'

‘So is not.'

‘So is.'

‘So not.'

‘How do you know?' Brian demanded.

‘A girl knows.'

‘Aha,' he said, sceptical.

‘He flirted with me,' I burst out in frustration.

‘Because he wants a return customer.'

‘You are so beastly,' I hissed.

‘Beastly right.'

‘Edo is definitely not gay.'

‘I need to get a haircut myself.'

‘I'll make an appointment for you tomorrow after school,' I said. ‘You'll owe me an apology big time for being such a prick.' I hung up. ‘Mum,' I yelled when I burst into the living room. ‘Can I ring Refika at home now?'

Mum had emptied the kitchen cupboards and was cleaning every shelf. I picked up the address book and flipped to R. ‘Sure, but you'll look desperate,' she said with a pained expression.

‘It's not for me,' I wrote down the number. ‘B—,' I remembered my ruse with Dina. ‘Dina wants it.'

‘Is that a good idea?' Mum asked. ‘What if she likes him too?'

I was about to say that Dina had a boyfriend, but swallowed the words back in time. It was a hassle keeping track of lies. ‘We have different tastes.'

Mum nodded as she cleaned. ‘Be careful. Girlfriends can be devious.'

She was so on the money it was scary.

The next day I walked Brian to Refika's after school, my certainty about Edo's heterosexuality ebbing with every minute. An hour later he came back to the café where I was waiting, trying not to be desperate.

‘So not gay,' he said.

‘I told you so,' I said as relief flooded me.

‘What's our plan?' Brian rubbed his hands together.

I frowned. I didn't know what I'd expected, but it certainly wasn't for Brian to be so eager to set me up. I'd hoped that when he saw Edo as competition, he'd step up, tell me he cared about me as more than just a friend.

‘I'm not sure,' I muttered.

When I came home from school Mum walked in front of me three times before I noticed her smug look and her newly permed hair. ‘You got a new hairstyle!' I exclaimed.

‘Oh, that,' she touched her hair. ‘Yes, I did.'

‘Okay, spill.' I gestured my hand in a ‘gimme' motion.

I'd thought about lying to Brian and telling him Mum found out nothing about Edo, but I had no choice but to continue with Brian's mission.

Mum didn't say anything.

‘If you don't want to talk.' I headed for the door. ‘I have homework.' My hand was on the door when she stopped me.

‘His father is Serbian and his mother Bosnian,' Mum said.

As if I cared?

‘Usually the children follow the father's religion, but then again Edo and Halida—that's his sister—are both Bosnian names.'

‘Whatever…' I made a gimme gesture again, prodding her to move on.

‘These things are important Sabiha,' Mum pronounced. ‘If the two of you became serious you need to know what his religious beliefs are.'

‘Mum,' I whinged. ‘I haven't even had a proper conversation with the guy and you're already marrying me off.'

Mum frowned and finally continued. ‘They're originally from Prijedor and were in Austria as refugees before getting their visas to come here.' She was telling me nothing I was interested in.

I tuned her out until one word snapped my attention back. ‘Girlfriend?' I asked.

‘They went to high school together and she's still in Bosnia.' Mum patted my hand. ‘They haven't accepted that they won't see each other again.'

‘Mmm…' I rubbed my lips. This was my out with Brian. If I told him about Edo having a girlfriend we could put this whole mess behind us.

‘Okay, interesting Mum. Gotta call Dina now.' I kissed Mum on the cheek and headed for the door.

‘There's more,' Mum sighed.

I winked at her. ‘I want to save it for later.'

‘Most guys would have moved on,' Brian said when he answered my call. ‘It means he knows how to love. Now we have to get him to love you.'

‘Oh my God, Brian. Since when have you been such a romantic! I'm not sure—'

‘Come on, Sabiha. No guts, no glory. Anyway I thought you really liked him?'

‘I do—'

‘Leave it to me. First, proximity,' he said. ‘We need to plant Dina as a mole in his group and then you'll make your move.'

‘This sounds complicated.'

‘Slow and steady is the way to go,' Brian said.

‘Since when are you the dating expert?' I stirred.

‘I'm a guy aren't I?'

‘Yes, but—'

‘How many boyfriends have you had, Sabiha?'

My first ‘boyfriend' was Michael the cripple. Michael was born with one leg shorter than the other. He was Frankie's neighbours' son. We fell into hanging out together while I was living with Frankie, during the episode when Mum had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to hospital.

Michael was socially underdeveloped, otherwise he never would have committed the cardinal sin: dear, clueless Michael asked me out directly.

We were in his living room watching
Grease
. ‘Will you go out with me?' he whispered in my ear.

I was engrossed in the movie and murmured my assent. It was only when his sweaty palm pawed my hand that I noticed his blissful face. There was only one thing to do.

While Michael didn't adhere to the going-out protocol, I followed the breaking-up protocol and sent Kathleen to do the deed. She came back teary-eyed and refused to tell me what happened.

My first official boyfriend was Joshua. He was the Casanova of our high school. Everyone knew Joshua. He was friends with the Nerds, the Skinheads, the Headbangers, the Emos, the guys who were into sports
and
the ones who were into cars. He had developed a suave routine by latching onto girls who were new to the school. The girls he asked out overlooked his spotty face and pudgy body because they saw a ticket to being accepted.

Joshua followed high school protocol. Our relationship began with hello, developed over lingering glances, and was confirmed with whispered conversations between our best friends who passed on messages, until it culminated into the official asking out.

It happened at lunchtime, under the walkway between buildings. He waited at one end of the walkway, his best friend Dean stood beside him like the best man, while the rest of his friends gathered behind like groomsmen. I stood at the other end, Kathleen beside me, Shelley behind me.

A crowd gathered at the possibility of a spectacle. We walked towards each other and met in the middle. ‘Does Sabiha want to go out with Joshua?' Dean asked Kathleen. Kathleen repeated the question in a stage whisper, as if I wasn't standing right next to her.

‘Yes,' I answered, staring at the ground.

Dean stepped towards us and took my arm, thrusting me at Joshua. We walked to the oval for the official consummation, our friends following behind and cheering. When we were hidden behind bushes Joshua put his hand lightly on my waist. I stood in a ditch. I stretched onto my tiptoes and we kissed.

His breath was minty fresh. He kept a toothbrush and toothpaste in his locker. My breath smelt of the hotdog and chocolate milk I'd had for lunch. We mashed our lips together, opening and closing our mouths like sea creatures gasping for water.

Every few seconds we tilted our heads in the opposite direction, our lips never breaking contact. I heard the shouts of kids playing on the oval and the giggles of our friends. I opened my eyes and saw one of them peering at us. My calf cramped and my leg trembled.

Dean came around the bushes. ‘Fifteen minutes.' He tapped his watch. ‘You've made a new record.' Joshua clutched me tighter against him. Furtively I wiped the spittle from my mouth with my sleeve. ‘You can't wipe off someone's kiss,' Dean said.

Embarrassed I dropped my arm and turned away from Joshua. It was like I was wearing a clown mouth. Joshua bent his head and kissed me again. Two days later I sent Kathleen over to break up. All the novels I read talked about kisses being romantic or hot or steamy. I never heard about a slobbery kiss where your mouth dried up because your combined saliva ended up on your face. Joshua moved onto the new exchange student.

And don't even get me started on the unofficial wouldbe-boyfriends I stalked…

‘I'll call Dina.' I was defeated. All I could do was follow Brian's instructions and hope I'd eventually find an exit strategy.

Her phone kept ringing. She had call-waiting and was probably talking to Tony. She finally answered with a terse hello.

When I explained the plan, Dina said: ‘You want me to befriend him, be your spy and informer, so you can hang around with Edo?'

‘Yes,' I said.

She hung up.

the jealousy game

I called Brian back. ‘Dina's not with us on this one.' For once Dina's self-absorption worked in my favour.

‘Doesn't she see the beauty of the plan?'

‘Evidently not.' I rubbed my ear, still ringing from Dina's hang up.

‘Did your Mum find out anything about his interests?'

‘Wait…' I ran to the living room.

‘Okay, great news.' I panted from my sprint back to the phone. ‘Amazing. Mum somehow knows he's going to the movies at Highpoint this Saturday.'

‘Your mum, the private investigator.'

‘If only.'

‘I'll get the paper and we'll fine tune tomorrow at school,' Brian said.

‘
Si, Capitán
,' I teased.

I was carrying the phone back down the hall and heard Edo's name. I slowed. ‘You shouldn't be encouraging Sabiha's interest in that boy,' Safet murmured. ‘Mevluda said his father is a gypsy.'

That's what I thought the first time I met him. I couldn't wait to tell Brian. I stepped back from the door.

‘You could ruin the boy's life with those rumours,' Mum said.

I stopped dead.

‘You'll ruin Sabiha's life if you let her pursue this boy.'

‘He's Muslim,' Mum said.

‘No, he's not. If his father is a gypsy then he's taken on a Muslim name to make things easier for himself in Bosnia, but make no mistake, he's no Muslim. Gypsies follow no god,' Safet said.

Gypsies had always sounded romantic to me and Mum had told me how they lived in the former Yugoslavia. They were nomads and travelled with a horse and carriage from town to town, usually following the local fairs where they worked. I loved to fantasise about them in their colourful outfits and old-fashioned carriages, the men tall and swarthy like Edo.

But Mum said they were seen as vermin because they were known to beg and steal. The rumours were that they stole children and maimed their own so they could get money from begging. They were the bogeymen Bosnian mothers used to keep their kids in line.