I’d been rejected for the sales assistant jobs in town. The house could not be sold, and there were no more interviews for Tom. The advert for Butterfly was still up.
I was driving to Lizzie’s house for the second auction committee meeting when I took a sharp turn towards the High Street. I had time to go to Butterfly first. The steering wheel was slippery. I gripped it tighter. I thought back to my absolute confidence that I would be able to replace the money ‘one day’, when I started using it. I had no plans back then, just vague hopes.
I realised that I was dressed head to toe in Butterfly. It was a sign. I was wearing skinny jeans, soft leather ankle boots with a block heel from a hip Italian brand, and a pale-blue off-the-shoulder cashmere jumper. I had completed the outfit with my Prada bag and a chunky silver bracelet. I knew exactly what the customers in Butterfly needed to wear to look the part for any event. I had studied that in great detail years ago.
I rubbed my chest. If I was working there, anyone could see me through the large glass window by the till: the children’s friends, the mothers from school, our friends, people who knew Ami and Baba. A couple of Tom’s ex-colleagues also lived in the Village. Ami’s bottle of Gaviscon that I’d picked up for her from the chemist was lying on the seat next to me. I took a swig, grateful for the pink gunk trickling into me, soothing the fire in my chest.
I paused outside the glass door, decorated with bunches of white paper flowers. Inside, I could see the famous ceiling-high ferns and 180-degree mirrors, including the mirrored ‘catwalk’ in the centre of the shop. I went in.
My ears started to throb. When I told Biffy, the owner, that I wanted the job, she was sceptical. She was also desperate though, as she’d had no suitable applicants. I could see her wavering.
‘Listen, I know your customers. I am one! I understand their needs. I want to start an online fashion business one day and if I work here, I can learn from the best. I’m serious about this.’
This would be my story for everyone, that working at Butterfly was a means to a suitably lofty end.
Biffy agreed to a week’s trial. Alice was still working for a few more days so if I started straight away, she could do a handover.
As I drove towards Lizzie’s house, it hit me. I shouted at the top of my voice, ‘Yes! I have a job!’
Lizzie led me to her living room, which was a haven of eco-calm. One entire wall was studded, floor to ceiling, with lush, green plants. I sat down on a pale-blue sofa upholstered in organic fabrics, dyed using chemical-free colours, and ergonomically arranged for optimum energy flow. Clear crystals glistened as they hung from the ceiling like frozen dew drops and the soft scent of aromatherapy oils swirled in the air. I felt healthier just walking into her house.
Julia, Sam, Anna and the other members of the committee were already there. Once we’d all given our updates for the auction, we were allowed to eat lunch.
A table had been set up next to the natural swimming pool, where tall green plants edged the clear water. We sat under pale-grey awnings, at a long table covered with a white gauze tablecloth. An oversized vase, flowing with sweet peas like a floral fountain, was surrounded by large platters of salads, poached salmon and risotto, with tiny flags saying if the item was gluten-free or vegan. Lizzie, a flash of cobalt blue in her flowing maxi, invited us to help ourselves.
Sam sat next to me. She was the only one who hadn’t succumbed to the yummy-mummy uniform. She wore jeans, ordinary gym trainers and no make-up.
‘Sorry, ladies, but it’s my day off so I need to slob!’ she grinned.
She didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed to stick out.
‘I’m so jealous!’ I said to Sam. ‘I wish I could wear trainers.’
‘You can! Why not?’ said Sam.
‘I’m not as cool as you?’ I laughed.
I didn’t say that she was white, rich, and one of them. She would always belong, whatever she did. I hated myself for feeling this way, but I knew I wasn’t that far off the mark.
I decided to tell everyone about Butterfly myself. It was best if I gave them my version.
I waited until dessert. I’d wanted to tell Sam first but I’d taken too long trying to summon up my courage and think up my speech. I had to do it before people started to leave.
‘I’m going to tell everyone some news. Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to tell you before,’ I whispered to Sam.
I waved at Lizzie.
‘I’d like to tell everyone some news, Lizzie!’
Lizzie tapped her glass gently with a spoon. The conversations around us stopped.
‘Faiza has an announcement,’ said Lizzie.
‘I’m going back to work, ladies! At Butterfly!’
‘Fantastic! Are you going to be Biffy’s new business partner? I know she’s been looking for an investor for ages,’ said Lizzie.
I swallowed, trying to keep a smile on my face.
‘No, I’m going to be working there. Alice is leaving, so Biffy was in a bind.’
‘You’re going to be a sales assistant?’ said Anna.
Her mouth twisted in distaste.
My whole body was burning. If they hadn’t all been looking at me, I would have fanned my face and twisted my hair into a bun.
‘Well, I want to start an online fashion business when Alex is older. So, I thought, why not get to know the industry by working at Butterfly? I’ll be styling, too.’
‘You’ll be brilliant at that. I’ve always been so jealous of your clothes,’ said Sam.
‘It sounds like a great idea,’ said Lizzie.
‘Yes,’ said Julia. I smiled, surprised at her support. ‘Especially under the circumstances. I heard that Tom lost his job.’
The table fell silent. People stopped eating. I hadn’t told anyone about Tom’s job, except Sam, and Naila. Julia looked thrilled at dropping the bombshell. I felt everyone’s eyes on me.
‘Not quite, Julia. Tom didn’t lose his job, he left Apex himself, to start his own thing with a couple of friends.’
The words were out before I realised that it would be easy enough for Julia to check this wasn’t true.
‘You didn’t say!’ exclaimed Lizzie.
‘It just happened. I’m still getting used to having him home.’
‘Still, at least one of you is earning now,’ said Julia.
‘I’m sure they don’t need Alice’s salary,’ said Lizzie.
Sam and Lizzie laughed, along with some of the others. Julia frowned at their reaction.
‘Actually, you’re right, Julia. I am getting a job because Tom’s home,’ I said. ‘I know he’ll be there if the children need something.’
‘Goodness! I could never turn Harry into a house husband. There’s something so emasculating about that, don’t you think? Besides, I thought the women in your culture had more traditional roles?’ said Julia.
I didn’t know what to say for a second. What culture did she mean? Fourteen out of the fifteen women sitting around the table were in the ‘traditional roles’ of housewives or stay-at-home mothers, depending on how they wanted to identify themselves. Why was she bringing up ‘my’ culture?
I decided to ignore her and looked around the table.
‘You must all come to Butterfly and see me.’
Lizzie raised a glass.
‘Here’s to Faiza’s fashion empire! Biffy is lucky to have you. Cheers!’
The clink of cutlery on china resumed as people went back to eating dessert. I didn’t look at Julia again.
‘I don’t know what’s gotten into Julia. That was quite bitchy,’ whispered Sam.
‘Actually, that was quite “Julia”. I’ve told you, she’s not a nice person. What was all that culture shit?’
Sam shrugged and shook her head.
‘How does she know about Tom?’ I said.
‘I don’t know. Her husband works in the City. Maybe he heard about Apex?’
I didn’t want to think about Julia any more.
‘Talking
of husbands, I saw yours at St George’s on Wednesday. Please tell him I’m sorry I didn’t say hello. I was helping my mum with her walker.’
Sam took a sip of her wine then frowned.
‘On Wednesday? Impossible. He was in Paris for the day and didn’t get back till very late. He must have a doppelganger!’
There was no doubt that it was James I’d seen. A doppelganger wouldn’t be dressed like James and carrying the weathered tan briefcase that was his trademark. I’d tried to catch his eye at the hospital and had wondered if he’d seen me too, but he’d walked away, talking on his phone.
Wild possibilities ran through my head. Could James be terminally ill but didn’t want Sam to know? Or had he fathered a love child and had been visiting the maternity ward? It was probably something much more prosaic, but I couldn’t understand why he’d told Sam he was in Paris.
Maybe Sam was covering up for him. I stirred my coffee and took a bite of my cheesecake. I glanced at her. She was talking to Lizzie now, smiling as if everything was fine. No, Sam would have told me if James was ill. It was James who was lying to Sam. I gave her a tight hug as we said goodbye.
Just as I got home, I got a text from Sam: You were right! James was at the hospital. He had some dental appointment before work, but he didn’t tell me because we never see each other or even have time to talk! Paris was the day before. I lost track. I’m really going crazy with the annexe and the party! xx
I texted Sam: Good. At least this means I’m not going crazy! Xx
I smiled. Perhaps I’d inherited more of Ami’s Bollywoodesque, dramatic way of thinking than I liked to admit!
I found Tom in his study. I had to tell him about Julia’s announcement. But first I wanted to tell him about my new job.
Fifteen
23 days before May 30th
Now that Julia had told everyone about Tom, we had to tell our families too.
I told my parents at our monthly lunch date, a treat that Baba ringed in red on their kitchen calendar.
Ami and Baba wanted to go to Cote in the Village, rather than their other favourite haunt, a Pakistani restaurant in Tooting. At least at Cote we were less likely to bump into their friends and I could speak Urdu when I told them the news, without worrying that the waiters or the people on the next table would hear me.
They were in a cheerful mood as we walked in the restaurant, my two tall parents and then my tiny figure in between. Ami was wearing a camel cashmere wrap over a bright blue salwar kameez, and her hair was coiled in a grey chignon, befitting her regal posture. Baba would have dressed more casually, but, for Ami, he had put on smart trousers. He was as tall as Tom and his lifelong love of playing tennis meant that he was still lean and trim.
I wanted everything to be as normal as possible when I told them. I’d straightened my hair and worn make-up. They could spot a hairline chink in my armour. I knew this would be a blow to them. They’d worry non-stop until Tom got another job.
We ordered from the special lunch deal. The amount of money saved gave them as much pleasure as the food itself. These days they were both on the same ‘bank statement’ page when it came to money. A few years ago, the fights just stopped. I’d asked Ami why they decided to wait until I left home to live harmoniously. She said when her parents died, she realised that throughout her marriage she’d been trying to prove to them that she hadn’t lost out by marrying Baba. She’d been spending for her parents and her sisters, who looked down at her lifestyle, rather than for herself. As well as that, once Farrah and I were grown up and Baba felt he had fulfilled his duty to look after us, he relaxed more about spending. They just stopped arguing about money.
Baba put his arm around me and I leaned into him. His blue and white checked shirt was as soft as a comfort blanket. He’d become thinner in the last few months.
In the roar of the lunchtime bustle, I had to repeat myself three times for Ami, who was a little hard of hearing. I slipped into Urdu.
‘Tom’s company have had a bad year, so they’ve had to let a few people go.’
Baba stopped chewing.
‘Tom?’ he said.
‘Yes, but it’s fine. He’s already at the final interview stage for another job.’
This was true. It was just that the interview was on hold.
Ami took a sip of water. Her hand stayed on the glass after she had set it down, as if it was stuck.
I watched Baba carefully. I didn’t want his blood pressure to shoot up. The cardiologist had said that could be ‘catastrophic’. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told them?
‘Tom’s very sensible. He must have put enough money aside for emergencies like this,’ said Baba.
‘Yes, absolutely. In fact, he set up a £250,000 emergency fund for us ages ago.’
I wanted a figure so big that it would buffer them from any possible worry.
‘We don’t have to worry about money at all,’ I said.
I sometimes wondered when my lying had become so finessed. It was almost like a sixth sense. Sometimes it even felt like the truth. I was relieved to see the lie banished their worries, as they both exhaled.
*
Sam and Naila invited me to a celebratory coffee before I started at Butterfly. On the table there was a slice of lemon drizzle cake and a card saying ‘Woohoo!’. They were both excited for me, but disappointed that I wasn’t working in the sort of shop where they could use my employee discount.
I told the children that night after dinner. I’d been dreading it. Tom had to take a last-minute phone call. In an almost prophetic twist, after what I’d told Julia, he and two former colleagues had just started a consulting project for a client in Argentina. Although there was no salary, only a success fee when the project closed in three to six months, it was exactly what Tom needed. He jumped out of bed in the mornings and spent most of the day on the project, doing what he did best. It wasn’t an immediate solution but I had Butterfly for that.
As it was getting late, I told the children by myself.
‘We’ll just have to be a bit more careful with money, like in The Railway Children,’ I said.
Ahmed nodded.
Alex shook his head.
‘Oh no! Are we poor?’
‘Is that why Dad’s been home? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Sofia fixed me with an accusatory gaze.
‘We’re not poor, we just need to be a little careful.’
‘Can I still have my eighteenth, though?’ said Sofia. She was looking at her phone, chewing her thumb. ‘It’s OK if I can’t.’
A mini shrug of her shoulders.
Sofia and her friend Meg were having a joint party. I’d already paid a hefty advance and we wouldn’t get a refund anyway. Besides, it was her eighteenth. I’d been thinking about using the money in a building society account that Ami had opened for her when she was born, and into which we had been adding a little every year on her birthday. It had around seven hundred pounds in it. I’d also paid the balance for the Barcelona trip from it.
‘No, it’ll be fine. We have money for your party. Maybe you should get a Saturday job, though, for clothes and spending money for the trip? I’ve got the job at Butterfly, remember? I know it’s for my business, but it will also help with money. You know I worked at Fenwick’s every Saturday when I was at sixth form.’
‘You didn’t have the academic pressures we have now, Mum. I can’t get a job in the middle of my revision!’
She stormed out of the room.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Sofia’s reaction. I may have given my children a charmed life so they never felt left out, or were left wanting, but I wondered if I had gone too far? I’d worked every Saturday and throughout my summer holidays. I’d assumed that my children would do the same. It seemed not.
Ahmed hadn’t said anything at all yet, and when Sofia and Alex left, I sat down next to him. He was biting his nails and watching the TV screen, even though the volume was off.
‘Will I have to leave my school?’
‘No, of course not. You don’t have to worry about that. Look at me, darling.’
I smiled, trying to reassure him that nothing would change, but I felt sick. Even with my job at Butterfly we couldn’t pay the fees unless Tom got a job so I knew that my promises were empty. Perhaps he did too, because he went to his room without saying anything.
That evening I didn’t hear him laughing as he usually did while playing PlayStation with his friends. When I went into his room he was lying on his bed, still in his uniform. I bent down to kiss him and told him to get changed, but he didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on the light on his ceiling and, despite my attempts to make him look at me, or make him laugh, they did not flicker or move.
I stood outside his room, unable to move. That haunted look in his eyes, which I thought we had chased away forever, was back.
Sixteen
21 days to May 30th
Sam and I were at Sofia’s school, selling the charity auction tickets.
She had discovered the source of Julia’s information about Tom. It was the Headmistress. The Head and Julia had become good friends. They played tennis at The Hurlingham and had even been on a girls’ trip to Milan. When I’d asked the school for an extension to pay the balance of the fees, I told the Headmistress that Tom had lost his job. I was furious at the breach of confidentiality, but I knew all rules could be bent under the weight of Julia’s hefty cash donations to the school.
I was surprised at the unexpected kindness of people when I told them Tom had lost his job. My hairdresser hugged me and told me to come on training Thursday and he would do my hair for free. Our babysitter said I could always call her and she would be happy to help me as a friend. At a rare trip to our local Chinese, the manager gave us a 50% discount on the bill.
The chatter in the corridors died down as the bell rang and the first lesson of the day started. Sam and I sat at a small table outside the school office, as Julia handed us a stack of receipts, saying, ‘We’re going to ask for a deposit today, in cash, and the rest to be paid online. They’re more likely to pay the rest if they’ve already paid half upfront.’
Would I Lie to You? Page 8