You're Not Proper (11 page)

Everyone clapped. Waving a leaflet in his hand, he said, ‘The crusader, this country's prime minister is coming to Manchester next week. We call upon all believers to go and protest against him.'

As we left, Laila took some leaflets and said we could give them out at school. On the way home, I asked her, ‘I'm not sure about all this crusader stuff.'

‘They get a bit hot headed, this lot, and don't make sense,' she replied, ‘and sometimes they're the only ones that make sense.'

When I got home, I said a loud
himumhidadI'mhome
and without waiting for a reply, I ran upstairs and slumped onto my bed and without thinking, I started listening to Lady Gaga.

I heard the front door slamming shut and smiled, that had to be Dad. By the time I got downstairs, he was already watching the television, beer can in hand.

‘Dad, can I go to Manchester for the day on Saturday?'

‘Where were you all day today?' Dad asked.

‘I went to a meeting and learned how to pray properly, and learned what the
azaan
means.'

He went into a deep silence.

‘Can I go or not?' I asked.

He rubbed his hand across his face and nodded. I turned around to leave, and he said, ‘Do you want another fiver?'

‘I still haven't spent the one you gave me.'

‘You've become so honest with all this hijab stuff,' he laughed. I picked up a cushion and chucked it at him.

On the way to dropping me off at Boarhead station, Dad said, ‘Just be careful in Manchester,' ‘I will Dad,' I said. ‘I will.'

As the train set off, I thought how Boarhead was a world of its own. To get here by car, you come along a motorway, which runs along the side of a hill. Boarhead is hidden behind the hill. If you come by train, the rail track is on the other side of another hill, an even bigger one than the motorway one.

I arrived early and went for a wander down Market Street. I got a text from Laila:
Running 15 mins late.
I was about to reply when I saw them. Jake and his mates were coming towards me. Shamshad was with him, her arm in his. She was wearing a low-cut top and a short flowery skirt. She had a black bag on her shoulder. She kept shaking her head to push her hair off her face. They stopped by an ice-cream van and ordered. Shamshad giggled each time Jake said anything. She had bright lipstick and thick eyeliner on. I was about to turn around and leave when she saw me looking at her.

Jake whispered something in her ear. She smiled without taking her eyes off me, and then Jake yanked her arm and they went in the opposite direction. Shamshad kept turning around to look at me as they disappeared into the crowd of shoppers.

When Karen saw me with Jake, I could have just died. I kept looking over my shoulder, all the time. I was convinced Karen would follow me. Jake kept asking me what the matter was, but I kept quiet. After a while, Jake got fed up with me and went off with his mates. I changed back into my normal clothes at Piccadilly Station and went back home. Before catching the train, I threw my skirt and top into a bin.

Dad was out. Mum was on Skype. She shut the door to the living room when I went in. I went into the bathroom. I cleaned my teeth over and over again, trying to chase the smell of vodka away. I scrubbed my teeth until my gums bled, trying to chase the stench of cigarettes all the while begging the Almighty to forgive me. ‘I have been bad Almighty,' I prayed. ‘You are merciful. All forgiving. Forgive me. Forgive me.' I did my
wudhu
, cleaned myself, and readied myself to pray. I went to my bedroom, spread my prayer mat on the floor of my bedroom and prayed. Rani came into the room as I prayed and curled up next to me. After I had finished, I picked her up and stroked her from her head all the way to her tail. She closed her eyes and pushed her head up against mine, arching her back as my hand went over it. As I stroked Rani, I heard Mum laughing downstairs. It's a sound I rarely hear and made me think about the one time she really, really made me happy. It was on a Friday when I saw a side of Mum I would never have dreamt existed. I'd just come home from school and was expecting her to be, as ever, glued to the computer screen, yapping away to some goat-herder in Pakistan on Skype, but she was standing by the window, looking out on the street and waved at me as soon as she saw me.

She opened the front door and said, taking my school bag from me, ‘Come on Shamshad, we're going.'

There was a decisiveness in her voice I had not heard before. For a moment, I thought maybe she'd had a big fight with Dad and was leaving the house, but then I looked in her eyes. They looked like the eyes of a woman much younger then my Mum. Mischievous eyes. Determined eyes. But one about to leave home? No.

Mum quickly hung my school bag onto a hook, picked up a large brown bag that was behind the door, and said in English, something she rarely did, ‘Swimming.'

‘Swimming!' I almost jumped out of my skin. My Mum and swimming! She grabbed my hand, giggled and slammed the door shut behind us.

Before I could get myself together, a white van, full of
buddies
– old women – from our neighbourhood pulled up outside our house and Mum shoved me inside and then got in herself. The amount of noise these buddies made on the way to the baths would put an army of hormonal teenagers to shame. And the words they used, about each other and about the men they saw on the way? May the Almighty forgive them, especially my Mum.

The baths were even noisier then the van. They were heaving with happy women and kids. I have never seen so many bums, bigger then coffee tables, tree trunk legs wobblier than jelly jumping into water, ignoring the whistles of the irate lifeguards.

Mum handed me a plastic bag with my towel and a new swimsuit in it, kissed me on the forehead and rushed off to change, along the way waving to a big, fat woman who was standing on the edge of the pool, slightly bent, with one foot touching the top of the water. The woman was wearing a purple swimsuit, leggings and a matching top that came down from a tight hood from her head to her waist.

This was the first time I had been here since the Victoria Baths had been modernised. The old swimming pool in the middle with changing cubicles all around was still here, but now two larger pools, one with diving boards as well as slides and water features for children, had been built. The old ceiling, with its long beams, had been replaced by a much taller glass one.

Mum had bought me a normal, dark blue swimming suit with a matching cap. I got changed as quickly as I could and when I came out, Mum was waiting for me outside my cubicle. I put my hand to my mouth as soon as I saw her. I was expecting her to be dressed like her purple-suited friend, but Mum was wearing a swimsuit like mine, with one of Dad's large white t-shirts on top. She burst out laughing when she saw me looking at her.

Mum was like an excited girl and I felt like the adult. She hopped over to the deep pool and as she was about to jump in, a lifeguard dressed in a bright yellow top and red shorts whistled at us. The guard pointed at Mum and waved her index finger telling us not to do what Mum was about to do. I was a bit puzzled and tried to work out what it was we had done, when Mum took off the t-shirt, and said, nodding to the lifeguard, ‘This one, she doesn't let us go into the water with normal t-shirts on.'

‘You've been here before, Mum?!' I asked incredulously.

‘But not with you,' she said rolling up the t-shirt and lobbing it towards a bench on the side, behind the lifeguard.

As she jumped into the water I shouted, ‘It's the deep end, Mum.'

She went down into the water and then when her head popped out she said, ‘Race you to the other end.'

‘You've no chance,' I said jumping in next to her.

I was wrong. Mum swam like a fish, doing her doggy paddle, panting and splashing all the way to the other end of the pool. She beat me, but she was really out of breath.

We did a couple of slow lengths, me showing off my breaststroke, front and back crawls and butterfly. Mum stuck to her doggy paddle.

When we stopped for a breather, Mum pointed at the tall diving board in the pool behind us and said, ‘Lets jump from that one.' ‘It's much higher than it looks from here, Mum.' She didn't wait for my reply and got out of the water.

As we walked towards the queue for the jump, a lifeguard stopped us. ‘Why won't she let me go?' Mum asked me.

I asked the lifeguard what the matter was and she replied, ‘Everyone has to swim a width before they are allowed to jump.'

I translated for Mum and she lowered herself gently into the water and swam across to the other end. I followed her.

Waiting in the queue, I began to feel goose pimples. I hate heights, but didn't want to let Mum down.

‘It's all right if you don't want to jump,' Mum said walking up the steps. ‘It's not that…'

‘I might not be able to do it when I get to the top, so you wait here and get ready to pull me out of the water if I do manage to do it.' ‘OK, Mum.'

‘And don't laugh at me if I can't.' ‘OK, Mum,' I laughed.

Mum looked at a woman who was waiting at the edge of the high jump. She was a skinny, blonde-haired woman who kept looking down, then moving away towards the steps only to go back again. She did this a few times and came down the stairs, crying.

When Mum's turn came, she went up the stairs, walked onto the platform and jumped straight off, without waiting or thinking. She came down making a lot of noise. It was difficult to tell whether she was screaming in fear or joy. She landed in the water with a great big splash. I was relieved when her head popped out of the water. She swam towards some steps close to me.

Coming out of the water, she said, ‘I did it.'

She looked round the pools and said, ‘Do you want a go?' I shook my head.

‘Then I don't either,' Mum said.

I was so deep in thought, remembering my one special time with Mum, I didn't hear Mum calling me at first.

‘Yes, Mum,' I replied loudly.

‘You left the bathroom sink dirty,' she said. ‘Sorry, Mum.'

I felt all dirty again; I held my hands open in prayer, and prayed, ‘Almighty, forgive me for what I have done. I will never do it again.'

Karen's face flashed through my mind. I slammed my hand on the side of the table. Rani jumped out of my lap.

‘What's Shamshad like?' I kept thinking, waiting for Laila. As soon as I saw her, I told her about Shamshad and Jake. She said, ‘Nothing surprises me about her.'

Though neither of us admitted it to the other, we didn't want to bump into Shamshad. We messed around for a little while and went home.

The next morning I put on a clean headscarf and left for school. Shamshad was waiting at the top of our street, on the other side of the road. At first, I didn't believe my eyes and looked at her again. She stood on the other side of the road, unconcerned by all the eyes staring at her. Her arms were folded across her chest.

I quickened my pace. She did the same. I started running. She did the same. I ran as fast as I could and stopped by Mrs Johnston, the lollipop lady, at the top of our road. Shamshad was beside me. Panting. I moved closer to a woman with two children and crossed the road. I could feel Shamshad's breath on the back of my neck. I went along the main road instead of the short cut to the bus stop. Shamshad followed me all the way.

At the bus stop there were lots of kids, many of them going to our school. I bought my weekly bus pass from the driver and went to sit down. I felt relieved as most of the seats had someone sitting on them. I sat next to an old lady. As I was sitting down, she handed me a bag and said, ‘Can you help me off with this, love.' I took her bag and moved back whilst she got up off the seat.

Shamshad sat down next to me, stuck her elbow into my ribs, and hissed ‘Keep that little trap of yours shut!' I kept quiet.

‘Is she wearing her mini-skirt again?' Aisha glared her braced teeth at me.

Digging her elbow into me even harder, Shamshad said, ‘She's better now. I'm teaching her to be proper.'

I squealed. The cronies laughed. Aisha laughed the loudest. Shamshad stepped on my foot as hard as she could before getting up to leave.

I went to the toilets and washed my face before going to class. Everyone was staring at me when I entered. But for a slight clicking noise, it was really quiet, like everyone was holding their breath for a big bang. I wanted to yell, “what have I done to any of you”, but I couldn't say anything. My feet felt really heavy. My side ached and I felt the weight of all those eyes glaring at me. Tears began to burn in my eyes. ‘Don't cry in front of this lot, Kiran,' I said to myself. ‘Don't you cry, girl. They're just ignorant. They're just making you the fool.'

When I got to the desk, I saw what the joke was. Everyone started laughing. A small toy monkey, wearing a hijab over a mini-skirt, was dancing on my desk.

‘Very funny,' I said as I picked it up. I gave Aisha a dirty look. She stopped laughing. I turned off the monkey and opened my bag. I realised my pencil case was still in my locker. I looked at the clock. There were still five minutes to go and I rushed out. Someone clapped, then everyone clapped. When I got to the door, Shamshad was standing there, peeping in. She grabbed me by the collar, pulled me away from the door and slapped me hard across my face, hissing, ‘How dare you spread lies about me.'

‘I haven't told anyone, I swear,' I said.

She was about to hit me again, when I heard Mr Mayflower's shoes clicking on the tiles. He walked with a limp. The sound was unmistakably his. Shamshad let go of me.

‘Shouldn't you girls be in class?' Mr Mayflower said. ‘I just came to borrow something, sir,' Shamshad said.

‘Very good. Very good,' Mr Mayflower replied in his usual manner. ‘You look a bit sore this morning Karen,' he said to me.