Gravel Heart(47)

I had expected smouldering accusing stares and acid questions about my parents, my work, my religion, but the nearest it came to that was when I looked at Billie’s mother while Anand was talking and found her gazing at me with surmise. She caught my eye and smiled and then turned towards her son. In due course the cakes and tea came out and after a visit of two uneventful hours or so, we set off for Putney.

‘I like your mum,’ I said. ‘She looks so elegant. I can see where you get your looks.’

Billie shook her head, worrying at something she was not ready to talk about yet. I guessed she was going over the visit in her own mind. When she was ready to speak about it she said the visit had gone surprisingly well but something in her tone made me think she was saying that to hold me off. The next day she called me from work to say that she was summoned home to Acton that evening.

‘What’s it about?’ I asked. I didn’t want to ask if it was about me, but of course it must be.

‘I don’t know,’ said Billie. ‘I’ll probably be back late.’

But she did not come back at all and she did not call. I was full of apprehension, imagining the harsh realities Billie’s face was being rubbed into, imagining the cruel lashes that were being laid across my back. We know nothing about his family. Certainly he is no high-flier – the Sports and Leisure Department of Lambeth Council, for God’s sake. He will be a financial burden to you. You have a promising future at the bank. Look, they are already training you in investment and finance, why compromise that with dubious connections in your young life? A Muslim from Africa!

I rang Billie at work but she was unavailable. Later in the morning I had an email: Sorry about last night. I’ll see you later, which rather than reassuring me only worried me more. Why wasn’t she calling me? When I got back that evening Billie was already at home when usually she came in later. I embraced her but her body was limp in my arms and in her eyes I saw exhaustion and defeat.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,’ she said.

I waited for a while before I asked again what had happened although I was beginning to think I knew.

‘They were all there,’ she said wearily. ‘Suresh came over from Madrid to lay down the law. My mother called him after our visit. She only wanted to meet you to confirm that she had the details right. After that she rang Suresh and told him that I was living with a Muslim nigger from Africa and that he was to come over the next day and talk me out of it. He already knew from Anand. It was all planned. They used that word freely: a nigger is a nigger however nice he is. I had thought religion would be the issue … I’m sorry. I have to leave you.’

‘No. You can’t do this.’

‘You don’t know … my mother said she would kill herself if I did not.’

‘She won’t do that!’

‘How can I be sure?’ said Billie, tears running down her face. ‘You don’t know what she can be like, how obsessive she gets. When I said, no, don’t talk like that, she said it would be an act of sacrifice, a sacred act to maintain the family’s honour. I don’t know if you can understand her idea of family honour.’

‘No, she only said that about … it’s to get your brothers working on you,’ I said.

Billie shook her head. ‘I am not sure she won’t do it if I disobey. When my mother is depressed she talks about suicide. I have heard her do that before. I have heard her say suicide looks you in the eye and draws you from birth and then lurks over you for all your life. She said that every moment I spend here with you is a torment to her, and if I don’t leave at once she will kill herself. How can I be sure she won’t do it? I have agreed to return home tomorrow.’

I tried to talk with her but she said she had no choice and talking was not going to do any good. When we went to bed, she lay silently while I talked and pleaded, and then at some point she turned her back to me. I must have fallen asleep in the end because I was woken suddenly by the sound of the early-morning traffic past our street. Billie was sleeping on her back, her right arm flung over her head as usual. I washed and dressed in a hurry because I was late, trying to be quiet so as not to wake her, although I suspected she was only pretending to be asleep. She had said she would call in sick so she could do her packing. I went through the day with the conviction that she would not be there when I got back, but she was. She was waiting for me to come home.

‘I was just waiting to say goodbye,’ she said, speaking quietly, unsmiling, determined.

‘There’s no need to do things this way,’ I said gently. ‘Let’s talk about what we can do. We can’t just throw everything away like this.’

‘I don’t want to talk about this or anything else. I need to get away and think about everything that’s happened. I think it’s best to do this quickly. That’s the only way I can do it,’ she said. ‘But it didn’t seem right to go without saying goodbye. It was not your fault. Please don’t say anything. I’ve called Anand, he’ll be here soon.’

I nodded and sat in the room for a few moments, silent in the face of so much determination, then I went to the bedroom to change out of my work clothes. When Anand came, he smiled his greetings and picked up Billie’s things but did not come back to say goodbye. A nigger is a nigger although not to his face. I exchanged the lightest of kisses with Billie before she left.