Birmingham Friends (47 page)

There came a burst of sound from upstairs, rock music which Anna knew she recognized but could not place before it was switched off abruptly. Then feet on the stairs.

She was having to remind herself of Krishna’s existence, that Olivia had a grown-up son. She faced the door, preparing a smile. When he appeared her smile broadened. She stood up.

‘Anna?’ Like Theo, he shook her hand.

‘Krishna? I’m so pleased to meet you.’ She was looking into a face of enormous charm. He had round, boyish cheeks, the skin flawless, huge teeth creamy as almonds and deep brown eyes. He was wearing tight black jeans and a black T-shirt, and there was a ripeness about him just short of being plump, a hint of puppy fat not yet lost. There was something immensely appealing about him and it crossed Anna’s mind to wonder whether this was the Kemp charm working through the generations.

‘This is my mate, Jake,’ Krishna said. He indicated a tall, lean man behind him with shoulder-length brown hair, a long, serious face and eyes that were beginning to hold a smile. He said ‘Hello’ quietly.

‘What were you listening to up there?’ Anna asked. ‘I know I recognized it . . .’

‘Van Morrison,’ Krishna said. He gave Jake a playful punch on the arm. ‘He reckons he’s educating my musical tastes.’

‘I’ve nearly persuaded him to part with the Donny Osmond singles,’ Jake said drily.

‘Surely it’s not that bad?’ Anna said.

‘You’d be surprised.’

‘Ah, Krishna – ’ Olivia emerged from the kitchen, followed by Sean. ‘Come and fetch the rice for me, will you, darling? The others have been doing all the work. It’s time you did something.’

Krishna made a comical face at Anna. ‘I see you’ve already met the three stooges?’

She laughed, feeling a rush of contentment and liking for these people.

They sat round the table, blood-red napkins to match the cloth folded on white side plates. Anna was between Theo and Jake, facing Olivia across the dishes piled with food, between which Olivia had lit deep blue candles.

At the centre of the table was a casserole full of scented rice, sprigged with dark splinters of cinnamon, fat green cardamom pods, and dotted with coriander seeds like game shot. Displayed round it, in blue ceramic dishes, was spiced chicken in a rich tomato sauce, a bright, mustard-coloured dal sprinkled with fresh green coriander leaves, and other vegetable dishes, potatoes and cauliflower, aubergines, okra. On a wooden board she had piled chapatis.

The boys let out whoops and whistles of appreciation at the sight of the food.

‘Hey, yeah,’ Theo said enthusiastically. ‘Come on – let’s get this wine flowing.’

‘I thought you were a good, church-going boy,’ Krish teased him. ‘No drinking, no cinema – ’ He made a poor attempt at a Jamaican accent: ‘No idolatry av tings av de flesh . . . eh Titty?’

Theo gave a pained though good-natured grimace, then jabbed a finger at Krish, mock threatening. ‘I’ll see you afterwards.’

‘Don’t call him that,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s not nice.’

‘I think you ought to explain to Anna,’ Ben said, seeing her puzzled face.

Theo grinned, spooning rice on to his plate. ‘My name’s Theophilus, right? My mom’s into the Acts of the Apostles in a big way – and I mean a big way. All the family’s called names from the early church. Trouble is, I’ve got five older brothers, so by the time she got to me the decent names like Peter and John and Stephen were all used up, so I got to be Theophilus Timothy.’

‘TT,’ Krish finished. ‘Titty.’

‘Enough!’ Olivia commanded.

Like everyone else, Anna filled her plate, listening to the talk around her. Her initial feeling of rawness had passed, the strangeness of being alone again in social situations. She had been everywhere with Richard for so long. Too long. She began to feel at ease, having neither too much nor too little attention paid to her. She found she was grateful that Olivia had organized this, instead of plunging them into a private, probably nerve-racking conversation, when they barely knew each other.

She sat trying to get the measure of this new bunch of people.

Sean, sitting on Olivia’s left, said almost nothing throughout the meal. He ate with his pale face bent over his plate, shovelling the food in with no grace. Once or twice, though, she noticed Olivia turn to him and their eyes met. Anna watched, puzzled, unable to read the signal being passed between them. Otherwise Sean came across as preoccupied and distant, and she didn’t feel prepared to try and draw him into the conversation. There was enough talk for him not to be pressurized to speak.

Krishna began the meal by creating a deep ring of rice on his plate, heaping it hugely with the chicken and vegetables and finally laying a chapati across the top like a hat. He sat back, childishly inviting everyone to look, patting his stomach with his hands in anticipation.

‘I’m sure I’m getting fat being back at home,’ he said. ‘Next week I’m going to join the hunger strike.’ He let out a laugh. ‘What do I have to do to get into the Maze?’

Ben reddened across the table. ‘That’s not bloody funny, Krish. Everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it? Ha ha bloody ha.’

Krishna held his hands up, shielding himself. ‘Sorry. Sorry – very poor taste I fully admit. It’s all right, Ben, you can step off your soap box now.’ He gave one of his appealing grins and said to Anna, ‘Ben here is our elder statesman.’

Anna felt sympathy for Ben. Krishna’s crassness was already grating on her. To smooth over the difficult moment she said, ‘I gather you’re doing research?’

‘Yep. Modern French poets.’

‘How’s it going?’ Theo asked.

‘Badly,’ Ben said irritably. ‘Don’t know why I’m doing the wretched thesis.’

‘Come, now,’ Olivia said. ‘You’re going through a bad patch. That’s how it goes sometimes with research. But you don’t just give up because you reach a dead end for a bit. You have to wait to get to the next notch. I promise you it’ll be worth it.’ Her voice held smooth, maternal concern.

‘I hope you’re right.’ Ben’s cheeks were flaming. ‘Sometimes I think I’d be a lot better out there earning some money.’

‘Believe in yourself.’ Olivia put her hand on his. ‘Look, if it’s getting you down, come and talk about it.’ Her tone was caressing now, soothing him. ‘You know I’m always here, don’t you?’

‘Yeah – thanks,’ Ben said, with the reluctant gratitude of a child who feels foolish crying in front of his friends.

‘Anna, you’ve got no pickles,’ Krish said. ‘You should try them. She makes them herself, you know.’ He gave Anna such a sweet smile that her growing irritation with him was eased a little. She accepted some of the tangy lime pickle.

‘What do you do, Anna?’ he asked. ‘Are you at the university too?’

‘No. I’m a teacher – in Coventry. History.’ Simpler not to mention that she’d just resigned.

‘Oh?’ Krish frowned, looking at Olivia. ‘But you said you knew her when she was young?’

Olivia’s voice broke in across the table, somehow claiming her. ‘Anna’s mother and I were very dear friends, a long time ago. We’ve only just got back in touch.’ She beamed indulgently round the table. ‘We’re going to have a lot of catching up to do.’

Anna felt a strange feeling of elation, of having been singled out. A flush spread across her cheeks. She kept glancing at Olivia throughout the meal, resplendent in the glossy blue of the sari, regal, presiding over the table and her admirers. She could see now what it was that had made Kate adore her so much, something in her, a combination of charm and vulnerability which made you feel prepared to do anything for her. Anna found herself waiting for responding glances from Olivia and she was not disappointed. Often she did look over, giving her a smile both affectionate and complicit. After a time Anna began to forget the incongruity of her response. It was as if the past had nothing to do with this Olivia. Whatever her problems had been she had clearly overcome them. She was as charming and lovable as the childhood Olivia Kate had known. Anna relaxed, enjoying her.

Krish spent much of the meal clowning, Theo his foil, both of them laughing, but Krish by far the loudest. Ben talked seriously to Olivia, who occasionally turned to Sean. Once, she laid a hand on Sean’s and said, ‘There is more bread in the oven. Would you be a darling? They’re in tin foil . . .’ And Sean got up to fetch them, with the silent compliance of a dog.

‘How’re you finding teaching then?’ a voice said. Anna, concentrating on watching Sean, turned, startled, to Jake.

‘I’m sorry? Teaching? Well . . .’ She had various stock answers to this question. For Richard something upbeat and idealistic; for Kate, a more straightforward assessment of the job, but not going so far as to include the truth of how draining she found it, how hardly a day passed when she didn’t feel despair; for others there were the brief social replies: ‘Fine,’ or ‘Well, it’s a challenge.’

Since she didn’t know Jake at all and had no time to think of anything else, the only option was to be honest. ‘I think since I’ve been a teacher I’ve lost any illusions I ever had that I’m a nice, reasonable person.’

She thought he might be tediously disconcerted, as people so often were when she said something honest. Instead, he gave a laugh of recognition, the serious face suddenly transformed. ‘Very like being a parent, then.’

‘I don’t know. I can imagine, though.’ She tried to remember what she’d been told about Jake. ‘You’ve got kids?’

‘One. A little girl, Elly. She’s just four. Only she lives with my wife – ex-wife.’

Anna groped for a response. ‘You must miss her.’

Jake swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘Like hell.’ He jerked his head to one side to flick back the hair from his face and forced a smile. She liked the smile and knew she was going to like him. There was something open about him, and genuine.

‘You live in Coventry, then?’

‘I did until recently. With my boyfriend.’ She managed a comical face. ‘Ex-boyfriend.’

Again, the generous laugh. ‘Oh dear. You’d better have some more wine!’

Olivia, seeing Jake’s hand poised over Anna’s glass, called across, ‘You’d be welcome to stay the night. Why not? I even have toothbrushes!’

Automatically, Anna said, ‘Thank you, but I think I’d better get back. I’ll get a cab.’ She was so used to being tied to home, to Richard, who admired spontaneity but only on his terms. But now there was only Kate’s empty house and she realized too late that she needn’t have refused.

Olivia accepted the refusal graciously. ‘Do whatever suits you best, my dear. Actually I teach early tomorrow, so unfortunately I shouldn’t have much time to see you.’ She leaned forward. ‘And I so want us to have a talk.’ The smile she produced actually made Anna’s heart beat faster.

Jake had refilled her glass. Turning to thank him, she caught him watching her and saw an expression in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read – puzzled, or worried – but before she could think about it further there was a loud outburst from Krish. She watched him, his laugh high and giggling, cheeks pink. He had drunk too much, she could see. She wondered what it was he and Jake could possibly have in common.

‘Does Krish work for you or something?’ she asked Jake. ‘Is that how you know each other?’

He nodded. ‘He has done. I’ve got my own business in School Road. He’s worked there during a couple of holidays.’ He grinned at Olivia. ‘She came in to buy a dresser and by the time she’d left she’d talked me into giving her son a job. Persuaded me he’d be the best thing that ever happened to me . . .’

‘Which of course I was,’ Krish interrupted, his voice loud and slurred.

‘No more wine for you,’ Olivia said sternly. She beamed at Jake. ‘And wasn’t I right?’

‘He’s pretty good at making tea,’ Jake teased.

Olivia let out a loud laugh, wine loud, Anna thought, just beyond what was called for.

‘He learned a lot actually,’ Jake added hastily.

‘So what d’you sell?’

‘Furniture, mainly. Stripped-pine stuff – do a lot of it myself. It’s getting very popular. I have a few other bits and bobs in to decorate the shop, but I go for the big stuff really – cupboards and dressers, that sort of thing.’

‘I like shops like that.’

Jake shrugged. ‘Come and see it then. It’s not far.’

She found herself talking with Jake for most of the rest of the evening, through the
kulfi
– ice cream sprinkled with shavings of pistachio nuts – the slices of mango and cups of strong black coffee.

‘You all need sobering up,’ Olivia said. Sean volunteered for the coffee making. Anna saw Jake’s eyes follow him as he disappeared unsteadily into the kitchen.

They all moved to the other end of the room, lounging in easy chairs, congratulating Olivia on the food, and she sat on the sofa covered in its bright fabrics, between Theo and Krish, arranging the end of the sari over her shoulder with an air of cream-fed satisfaction.

Sean handed round squat cups of coffee and sat on a chair to one side, scowling. He made Anna feel very uneasy, as if he was a servant, someone without equal status to the rest of them.

Theo was telling jokes about his family, making the three on the sofa laugh loudly. Ben joined in politely. And Anna and Jake talked. They talked about films and books, comparing tastes, keeping mostly off the subject of their own lives, except that Jake mentioned having moved to Birmingham at the age of ten from Staffordshire. Through the shouts of laughter from across the room she told him briefly about Kate’s death and he was sympathetic and not over-effusive. There still seemed to be a lot of things to say when Olivia stood up suddenly.

‘I think it’s time we broke this up, pity though it is,’ she declared. The boys, except Jake, all stood up immediately. Anna wondered whether this was deliberate on his part, a refusal to jump to her orders.

‘Did you bring your van, Jake?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, but I’m not in a fit state to drive it. I’ll be back for it in the morning. The walk’ll sober me up.’

Ben and Theo drifted off upstairs. Sean stood hesitating, as if waiting for a signal from Olivia. Eventually, indicating the kitchen, he said, ‘D’you want me to . . .?’

Olivia stared at him, silent for a moment. The look in her eyes turned suddenly icy. But she said in an even tone, ‘Leave the washing up for tomorrow.’