Gabriel's Gift

by Hanif Kureishi

  That night she was going to dinner at Jake Ambler’s house with Dad, who had become so agitated over the whole thing he had asked his own wife – at his son’s suggestion – to accompany him.

  ‘Funny, ain’t it.’ In the bathroom Mum was drawing her face on. Not far away, in his room, they knew Dad was also getting ready; he kept running downstairs to ring and say what he was doing. ‘When Rex lived here, he wanted me to stop talking. Now he’s taking me to this party in order to have me talk. I wonder what’s made him so keen on me suddenly!’

  She was going first to a fashionable bar to meet Rex, check his look and ensure he didn’t have too much to drink. They would go on to the dinner party. She didn’t know what time she’d be back. She was delighted to be going out, and in a few days would start work in Splitz. It had been a long time since he’d seen her so excited.

  It was a relief after the previous night, which had been the first evening Gabriel and his mother had spent together in a long time. They had gone to the cavernous, bright twenty-four-hour supermarket that had opened near by, where you could buy movies, books and computers with your bread, have lunch or buy a whole fish. At home they cooked and ate; she let him drink sparkling wine. Then the phone rang. George was saying he wanted to come by.

  ‘Please, later,’ she begged in a low voice. ‘When he’s gone to bed.’

  George must have been almost outside because within a few minutes he was banging on the front door.

  Gabriel had gone to sulk in his room, presuming George would stay the night and they wouldn’t want him around. But Mum and George had had a tremendous row. She tried to persuade him to talk to her in the pub at the end of the street, but George, who was drunk, strung out, and in a beige suit with a taxi waiting, wanted to get away. He ‘chucked’ Mum by repeatedly saying it was too ‘complicated’.

  ‘George, please tell me what you’re talking about! Just give me a chance! I thought we were doing something good! You wrote to me every day!’

  ‘I’m not ready, and I will never be, for the trials of bourgeois respectability.’

  ‘You mean the boy, don’t you?’

  ‘You never talk about anything else!’ he cried, almost dashing out of the door.

  ‘You’re jealous!’

  ‘Maybe. You’re a tight little family! Let’s keep in touch!’

  She ran out into the street after him, pleading. From the window Gabriel watched George shake her off, like someone shooing away a dog trying to bite them.

  For a moment she lay down on the path, her face resting on the pavement. She looked up to see Gabriel watching her, got to her feet, shook her head and went to him. He cuddled her.

  They put their pyjamas on, got into her bed, watched Frasier and ate chocolates from their ‘emergency’ supply.

  ‘You didn’t like him, did you?’

  ‘A little bit, yes,’ she said.

  ‘Well, if it was too complicated …’

  ‘You were the complication.’

  ‘I was the excuse.’

  ‘Shut up now, Frasier and Niles are going to –’

  Gabriel was licking his chocolate. He said, ‘Would you have gone with him if he had wanted you to?’

  She thought for a long time. ‘Probably, Gabriel.’

  ‘Even if I wouldn’t have liked it?’

  She was stroking his hair, which he hated, and said, ‘It’s not your job to make my life impossible. I’ve looked after you and now you’re nearly grown. That was my duty, and I’ve done it. Surely, now, I can live for myself a little bit, eh?’

  ‘OΚ, OK,’ he said. ‘Sorry it didn’t work out.’

  She said, ‘I think, in the end, that love is probably a young person’s addiction. I can get by without it – I’ll have to, won’t I? – but probably not without some companionship.’

  Now she sat at her dressing table, pulling her tights on.

  He asked, ‘What shoes are you going to wear?’

  ‘Look.’

  She went to a carrier bag and pulled from it a pair of white patent-leather boots.

  ‘Where did you get those?’

  ‘They’re real seventies boots. A woman at work collects antique clothing and she lent them to me. Do you like them?’

  ‘They suit you.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Just pull on those zips for me, dear.’

  Wiping his quivering hands on his jeans, he did as she asked. He saw himself in her mirror, watching her adjust the boots.

  ‘I know what your dad will say: “Puss in Boots”.’ They were laughing. She kissed Gabriel. ‘I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. What will you do?’

  ‘Oh, I guess I’ll be staying in with Hannah.’ He went to the window, looked up and down the street several times, and yawned. ‘I’ll watch the rest of that Polanski and get my head down.’

  ‘Sleep well, Angel.’

  ‘Have a good time without me.’

  When she’d gone he had gathered his drawing materials together and was getting changed when Hannah knocked on his bedroom door.

  ‘Come.’

  ‘It must be a mistake, Master Gabriel.’

  ‘What sort of mistake?’

  ‘At the door there’s a chauffeur waiting, with a fat car outside.’

  ‘It’s impertinent to think that that would be a mistake.’

  ‘Sorry. What is this impert?’

  ‘Look it up later.’

  He picked up his bag. He had packed a small hunting knife as well. But he had been to school; at least he knew how to handle himself. Not that he was worried, anyway.

  ‘Gabriel, is it really for you?’

  ‘I have an important meeting. Not one word to anyone, or else …’

  ‘No, no, Master Gabriel. No turnip on horizon. Your shoes … should I clean them spotless?’

  ‘No thanks, they’re new trainers. Could you get them out of the box and thread the laces?’ Gabriel said, ‘I’ve got to do this thing, Hannah, tonight. I promised I’d do it. But I’m scared, really scared. Nothing like this has happened to me before.’

  ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Go and do it.’

  ‘Yes. You’re right.’

  ‘But don’t be back late.’

  ‘No. See you later.’

  The chauffeur held open the car door and took Gabriel’s bag. As Gabriel slid into the soft white leather seats, he saw Hannah at the door with her mouth open.

  ‘Driver,’ said Gabriel casually. ‘Can you adjust the music – upwards, please!’

  They zipped around the Westway, over the top of Ladbroke Grove and the Portobello Road, and through the City. Gabriel was driven to an area of narrow streets and old warehouses, where Speedy lived in a conversion. The brickwork had been scraped, the piping painted blue.

  He went up in an industrial lift.

  At the top, dragging open the latticed gate, Speedy greeted him.

  ‘Welcome, Maestro!’

  ‘Thanks, Speedy!’

  ‘Take a look at everything! The view! The river! The pink settee! I’m exhausted – I’ve been clearing up for hours. My housekeeper’s gone to have a sex change.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  Gabriel pushed through a plastic-beaded curtain to find himself standing on a shining patch of Astro-turf. Ahead of him was a fluffy white rug with other challenges to come.

  Gabriel walked about. Speedy collected objects that Gabriel thought anyone sensible would hate – china dogs and plastic Mrs Thatcher dolls, for instance, and anything involving winking lights. Gabriel couldn’t make out whether the stuff was from gift shops or art galleries. Gabriel liked being confounded; he even liked hating things, but this –

  ‘It’s certainly made you wonder,’ said Speedy.

  Gabriel noticed the piles of books on photography, painting, architecture and design. It was like seeing a huge chocolate cake; he wanted it all inside him as soon as possible.

  ‘I could hang out here,’ he said.
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  ‘You’re welcome to.’

  ‘I like the music. What’s is it? Sounds like trains.’

  ‘Steve Reich.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Take it with you.’ said Speedy. ‘Your dad’ll know about it.’

  ‘R ’n’ b’s his thing. But thanks. I think we’d better start.’

  ‘Gabriel, what d’you want me to wear?’

  ‘Your favourite clothes. How you like to be seen.’

  Speedy put his hand on Gabriel’s arm. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I can never choose. Come and help me.’

  ‘I can’t stay long,’ said Gabriel.

  ‘Right, butch,’ pouted Speedy.

  While Gabriel prepared, Speedy went to get changed. Standing there, Gabriel was startled by a smooth-skinned Thai boy or girl in a sarong and make-up, who saw Gabriel, rushed into the bathroom, and never emerged.

  When they’d agreed on his clothes and the colour of his lipstick, Speedy took up a position on the chaise-longue, supported by Elvis-print cushions. Gabriel was a little surprised at Speedy’s pose – lying on the couch with one hand behind his neck, as though he were sunbathing.

  If that was how he saw himself, it was how Gabriel would paint him; if Speedy didn’t like the result, that was up to him.

  An angry ball of fluff ran across the floor.

  ‘You got rats here, Speedy?’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ said Speedy. ‘I want my beautiful Xavier in it. In the olden days people were always painted with their houses and horses and stuff.’

  ‘I can’t do dogs. That one’s not going to sit still and it’ll come out looking like a hedgehog. Speedy – you look powerful on your own.’

  ‘Is that right? OK, I’m going to trust you on this –’

  ‘That’s the way.’

  ‘But I’m telling you, Angel, this one isn’t for the attic! It’s for the front of the restaurant. I want it to look like me, only better. You know the kind of thing. I don’t want my blemishes immortalized.

  ‘What blemishes?’

  ‘What a sweetheart you are! Who’s your favourite painter right now?’

  ‘Lucian Freud.’

  ‘But he’s very … realistic. And I’m a vegetarian.’ Speedy started to laugh. ‘You’re joking, I know you are. You’re quite a kidder, kid. You won’t leave my ring out, will you?’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘You’ll see, baby. Coming up. Open your eyes.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah, told you.’

  ‘Must have hurt.’

  ‘That was the idea. D’you want one?’

  ‘I’m thinking of a tattoo, that’s all. A panther or something.’

  ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘Let’s not get into that, Speedy.’

  ‘Right you are. I’ll zip this up then.’

  ‘You do that.’

  Sitting on an animal-print covered chair, Gabriel wanted to work quickly, making preparatory studies for the picture. He had a few hours, for his mother would be out late. He had to be home before she returned, in case the alcohol made her sentimental and she had no one else to take in her arms at two in the morning.

  ‘Can I talk?’ said Speedy. ‘I’m so excited.’

  ‘You’re always excited.’

  ‘Not like this. What do you want – gossip or autobiography?’ Gabriel smiled. Speedy said, ‘Everything, then. If you’re going to paint me, you’re going to have to get to know me. Well, dear, when I was at your peachy age I became Jimmy McEnroe’s lover. He was in his late thirties then, and one of the top pop managers of the time. He wanted me to assist him, and assist him I did, baby. I got to know all the stars. Oh Gabriel, I always wanted to be a star. I never made it to that one.’

  ‘Speedy you are a star, in the restaurant.’

  ‘I’m the boss. That’s different. People want something, or they know me from last time. Gabriel, Jimmy was outrageous, until he went the way of a lot of our people, as I am going to. Still, I had a time and a half. All pop comes straight up from the gay underground. I know you’re not that way, Gabriel, and it’s a shame and a waste but I won’t hustle you, baby. In another way you’re one of us.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘When I left Jimmy I …’

  Speedy didn’t stop talking. He seemed to like being looked at, though Gabriel wished he wouldn’t keep craning his neck to try to see what Gabriel was doing.

  ‘You’ve got to keep still.’

  ‘I’m aching,’ complained Speedy. ‘I’ve never sat still before. I should be painting you!’

  If this annoyed Gabriel, he was already so disgusted by every line he drew he wanted to either rip up his drawings and stamp on them or run from the building. He knew he’d never get to what he wanted to do. This wasn’t Speedy’s fault: his mixture of naïveté and cunning, of knowingness and vanity, made him a beautiful subject. But Gabriel was beginning to learn that any attempt at art would be held up by inhibitions, terror and self-loathing. He was pushing against a closed door, and the door was himself.

  At the end, he was pleased to see there must have been a score of screwed-up balls of paper on the floor. He’d done enough for today; he couldn’t go any further. He knew how to go on.

  When Gabriel said he was ready to go, Speedy said the car was waiting but that he needed a lift himself. Gabriel sat and listened to music while Speedy got changed again.

  They drove to what Gabriel recognized as Jake Ambler’s house. The lights were on; figures moved about in the big glowing rooms.

  ‘Coming in?’ said Speedy in the stationary car. ‘You’ll know the people. What’s wrong? Are you afraid?’

  ‘I should be, but I’m not. Tonight I could do anything. You think I wouldn’t want to walk through that door and talk and hang out for hours? But my parents are in there, and they think I’m at home in bed.’

  ‘Who with?’

  ‘I wish.’

  Speedy said, ‘Is it true? Are your mum and dad together? I thought they’d –’

  ‘Not a word to them about our work.’

  ‘My lips are zipped, my wings are clipped, my arse is whipped. Give me a kiss – I’ve shaved.’

  ‘Just a little one, Speedy, to thank you.’

  ‘Yum, yum … be my vanilla pillow, baby.’ Speedy was looking at him. ‘Come over for supper when you’ve finished the picture. I know some people who’d like to meet you. People who are more cultured than me – just a silly ol’ queen who serves hamburgers and has never read a book in his life. They’ll introduce you to all kinds of stuff and you can have conversations that’ll open your head up.’

  ‘Thanks Speedy, I would like that. I will come. Look –’

  A car drew up in front of them. The door was opened and crouching Lester got out, fit and purposeful, followed by Karim Amir in a black suit. Lester went to the house, where Jake greeted him. Gabriel saw Carlo in the hallway, watching Lester move towards him.

  Karim came to Speedy’s car and put his head through the window.

  ‘Hi, Creamy,’ said Speedy. ‘Your hair’s getting long again. Suits you.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Oh yes. Lovely texture, too. This is Gabriel. He’s a film-maker. His dad played with Lester and then with Charlie.’

  ‘Lucky him. How you doing, Gabriel?’ He and Karim shook hands. ‘Coming in, Speedy?’ Karim said.

  ‘On my way.’ Speedy hurriedly gathered himself together. ‘Oh God, look – now there’s Marianne Faithfull! I’m so excited. I’m in here for a bit with the superstars. Then I’m off to the sauna. You can stay there all night.’

  ‘I’d like to see those places.’

  ‘You would? You should see everything. I’d look after you. We’ll talk, baby.’

  Gabriel said, ‘Speedy, Lester might not remember me, but if he does will you thank him for the picture and for the things he said?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  Speedy went off with Karim, tripping and panting.

  Gabriel got
out of the car and leaned against the railings outside the house, staring into the furnace of the chandeliers, but could make out little.

  ‘You see?’ he was telling Archie. ‘That wasn’t too bad, eh? Didn’t we have a good night?’

  He wondered again how his life would have been different had Archie lived, and how the two of them would have influenced and loved and hated one another. He missed him.

  Gabriel looked up to see a servant coming to close the shutters.

  It wasn’t as late as Gabriel had thought, and he asked the driver to take him for a spin around London. Gabriel imagined the car’s silver grille grinning like sharks’ teeth as they ate up the city. When he was older, he would do this all the time, with his friends beside him.

  As they drifted past the landmarks, Gabriel fell into a dream of the future, imagining his adventures, the films he’d make and scripts he’d write. He thought of the actors, musicians and producers he’d work with, the interviews he might give and what he’d say on television; he thought of where he would live, the parties he’d attend, the dissipations he’d be prone to and the women he would meet; he wondered whether he’d work in America or not and about the mistakes it might be profitable to make, and those to avoid. Like Lester, he would do fascinating things all the time!

  What a bright place London was, he thought. Here anything could be achieved! You only had to wish high enough!

  Of course, he wondered if he might fail at what he wanted, as his father ultimately had. A lot of people wanted to be someone, but who had the tenacity, the commitment, the steely determination? For how many people was it a necessity, a matter of life as opposed to death? He was too young to be careful. He was full of hope and the ambition of uncontainable wishes. He was ready, too, to work. Recently he’d had ideas for two or three projects that he hadn’t had time to consider properly. He wanted to write and draw new things. He saw now how bored he’d been recently, at home; he’d just about had enough of being alone and worrying about his parents.