Unmarriageable(58)

Later, Maqsood and Hillima shared notes and concluded that Kaleen had not been as stingy as Wickaam but they prayed that the next visitor to grace Binat House would not only have money but also be bighearted.

Kaleen filled his plate to the maximum as Mrs Binat handed him entrée after entrée. He was happy to see that Alys ate sparsely and with sophistication. By contrast, Lady had a robust appetite and kept licking her lips.

‘My late wife,’ Kaleen said as he tore apart a roghni naan, ‘believed women who eat freely find it hard to control their desire in other matters too.’

‘What other matters?’ Lady asked naughtily, her fleshy lips glistening with ghee.

Kaleen glanced at her distastefully. ‘Begum Beena dey Bagh also believes gluttony is unappetising in a woman.’

Alys wished she’d overfilled her plate like a glutton supposedly might, however she had little appetite. The phone had rung earlier that evening, and she’d seen Jena’s face light up and then fall when it had turned out to be Mari’s friend. Now Jena played with a teaspoon’s worth of food on her plate, and even though their mother had instructed the cook to prepare Jena’s favourites round the clock – spaghetti keema and Kashmiri mustard greens with white rice – she barely ate.

‘Beena dey Bagh was not at the NadirFiede wedding?’ Mr Binat asked.

‘Rest assured,’ Kaleen said, ‘she was the first luminary to whom an invitation was sent. Unfortunately, Begum Beena dey Bagh has been unable to attend many functions this winter on account of Annie suffering a setback. Far be it from me to ever brag, but they are lucky to have discovered me – otherwise, who knows what state Annie may have been in by now. She could even be dead. In which case, I tell mother and daughter, I am not just a doctor but also a saviour, Annie’s hero.’

‘Is such self-praise,’ Mr Binat asked with a straight face, ‘spontaneous or practised?’

‘Both,’ Kaleen said. ‘For example, the food on this table deserves spontaneous praise, and so I gave it, but in homes where the food is tasteless, practised praise is required. Same rule applies for the accomplishments of men and the looks of ladies.’

‘The looks of ladies?’ Mrs Binat said.

‘Yes,’ Kaleen said. ‘Praising plain and ugly girls makes their day, so they tell me. I now regard it as sawab ka kaam, God’s own good work.’

‘What’s wrong with Annie?’ Alys asked, for she was curious about Wickaam’s and Dracula’s cousin.

‘Sad story,’ Kaleen said, ladling a hefty amount of ginger chicken onto his plate.

Annie was once a vibrant girl standing five foot eleven in her bare feet and studying at Berkeley, after which she’d planned to return to Pakistan to join her mother’s business. Along the way, Annie was discovered at an airport by a fashion designer, and next she knew it, she was walking runways. One weekend she’d gone on a camping trip, after which her health began to fail rapidly. She’d sought Kaleen out at a medical conference where he was a guest speaker on autoimmune afflictions. ‘I’m Pakistani,’ she said, ‘you’re Pakistani. Please help me. Not too long ago, I was walking in stilettos, and now here I am with a walking stick. Nothing shows up in my blood work and doctors insist it’s all in my head. Please help me.’

‘I helped her,’ Kaleen continued. ‘Within days, thanks to the guidance of Almighty God, she was better. But once the conference ended I returned to England, and next I know, Begum Beena dey Bagh is offering me a dream package to move to Pakistan, and here I am.’

‘Inshallah,’ Mari said, once Kaleen was done, ‘may Annie dey Bagh and every other human being suffering from disease and illness be fully restored to health.’

‘Ameen,’ everyone at the table said, cupping their palms and looking skyward.

‘Summa ameen,’ Kaleen said, invoking a double blessing as he appraised Mari anew. His eyes lingered on the gold Allah-in-Arabic pendant nestling in her cleavage and visible beneath her muslin dupatta. Perfectly pious but, compared to Alys’s striking looks, quite insipid.

Dessert was brought out – a vibrant beetroot halwa and chai, after which Kaleen asked to retire for the night. He gave Mrs Binat a special look, which she rightly interpreted as his wanting to be fresh for the life-altering event the next day. After bidding him sweet dreams, she sent everyone to their rooms for an early night. They should all rest, she decided, for tomorrow would bring one long celebration.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





Farhat Kaleen came down for breakfast with his heart beating fast. He’d never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d have to propose twice in his lifetime, but this was obviously God’s plan. He entered the dining room and was pleased to see that the Binat girls were still at breakfast. His eyes glanced at the food first – fried eggs, Pakistani omelette brimming with cumin and green chillies, potato bhujia, French toast, and cornflakes – and then at Alys, who was nibbling on a boiled egg and sipping black coffee.

She was reading the newspaper, which was all right by him – being a good woman did not mean being uninformed. But he frowned for a moment at her tracksuit bottoms and T-shirt that read NOT YOUR AVERAGE BEHEN JEE. Then he smiled. The casualness of her outfit at this most momentous of events for her would be but their first sweet memory.