On the plus side, these journeys to and from town with Ilyaas weren’t as bad as Mae had thought they’d be. Being out in the fresh air, she supposed, was better than rotting away in a box room. Plus, there was only so much she could check her phone for messages from Ji Su or pretend to coo over her niece and nephew before being lumbered with looking after them.
‘Oh, this song!’ exclaimed Mae, putting the volume up on her car.
‘You like it?’
‘Kidding me? Love it. Suppose you’re too cool for it,’ said Mae.
‘Nah. It’s all right, actually. You don’t have bad taste. For a girl.’
Mae pointed her finger at him. ‘Don’t go making those sexist comments in front of your aunt Bubblee. She’ll shred whatever of yours comes into reach to pieces.’
It was the second time Ilyaas had laughed at Mae, although he tried to hide it.
‘Well, at least you like to work with your dad,’ said Mae. ‘Could be worse. You could spend your time driving people around. Wink, wink.’
‘You’re a geek,’ said Ilyaas.
‘And proud.’
Mae turned right at the pedestrian crossing, admiring the way the sun shone through the clouds, bathing the green hills in its light. What was she doing with her life? She’d been home for over a week already and no clarity had come to her about what to do or what to tell her family. How to tell her parents that she’d wasted their money. Mae felt her stomach clench, a bout of nausea hitting her. Whenever her family mentioned how simple it must be to be a student, a wave of anxiety would well in the pit of her stomach. How was she meant to move forward? Every time she thought of it she was faced with nothing but a brick wall, and that just made her want to bang her head against it.
‘If a little adrift,’ she added out loud without meaning to.
Mae went to change radio stations, trying to pretend that slip of the tongue hadn’t happened. They approached Ash’s office and Mae parked up outside it, settled between a post office and a coffee shop.
‘Well, Godspeed for another day, my friend,’ said Mae.
Ilyaas went to get out of the car but paused. ‘There are jobs and stuff.’
‘Hmm?’
‘You could help out with Dad. Here.’
‘Oh. Well, I don’t think he needs any more help.’
Ilyaas responded with another shrug and stepped out of the car.
On the drive back home Mae wondered whether it was time to stop moping around, doing things for others, and maybe get out of the house and start doing something for herself. None of her sisters really did summer jobs, not even Bubblee unless it was something at an art gallery, but if Mae carried on like this she might actually go mad. More than that, it was time for her to make some money to at least try and pay her parents back. The panic in her chest was rising, but then she caught a sign for the stables that she often passed. The horses that were trotting around the fields with people riding them always pleased her. For some reason or another she decided to pull into the stables because the alternative was to go home and sit around, brooding, trying to push back the anxiety that seemed to be the most constant thing in her life.
Getting out of the car, she saw a woman tending to a horse. Mae stood for a while just watching the way the horse’s mouth would twitch, and the woman would calm it with the palm of her hand; or he’d move his hooves, his tail swaying gently. It was when the woman turned around that Mae realised she’d been staring at her.
‘Sorry, didn’t see you there. Can I help you?’ the woman asked.
‘Oh, no, I just … I saw the horses and thought they looked nice, you know?’
The woman smiled and Mae noticed how broad her shoulders were. She was almost envious of them.
‘Don’t know many people who don’t like them,’ she said. ‘And I judge the ones who don’t. Do you ride?’
‘Oh, me? No,’ Mae laughed. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but I don’t think I’ve got the, you know, grace for it.’
‘That’s what learning is for,’ replied the woman.
‘Can I …?’ Mae walked towards the horse with her hand out.
‘Of course. Ginger’s a little feisty, but doesn’t mind people, as long as they don’t annoy him.’
‘I know how that feels,’ said Mae. ‘Hey, Ginge,’ she added, patting him on his muzzle.
‘’Er. It’s Ginger,’ the woman replied. ‘And I’m Alison.’
‘Oh, sorry. I’m Mae.’ She turned to the horse again. ‘All right, boy?’ she said, looking at Ginger’s wide, clear eyes, the flecks of white on his forehead.
There was something so calming about him as she stroked his shoulder. The beating of her heart seemed to calm down and Mae understood why some people might feel that animals make better companions than humans.
‘Do you want to take him for a ride?’ the woman asked.
‘What? Oh, no, thanks. I mean, yeah, but don’t I have to book and stuff?’
‘Why don’t we call it a free trial run, and if you like it, you can come back?’
‘Really?’ asked Mae. ‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that,’ Alison replied.
There wasn’t much else to think about.
‘You’ll need proper boots.’
Alison went into the stable and came out with riding essentials, which Mae put on, feeling both excited and nervous. Getting on the horse was a little trickier than she thought it would be. Whenever she’d watched it on television they made it look so simple, but she was clearly as graceful as she had imagined, and she hadn’t imagined much.
‘You just need to pull yourself up,’ said Alison.
I am pulling myself up, Mae wanted to say. It took a few more tries and a push from Alison to help Mae get her leg over Ginger. She slid her feet into the stirrups and felt a little steadier.
‘There you go,’ said Alison, showing her how to hold the reins and adjust the stirrups and then leading her into a gentle walk.
Mae had to grab on to the reins as she pressed her legs to the horse’s sides, surprised at the force of the animal, but once she got into her stride she felt more secure, more in control.
‘Just give him a little kick if he slows down, pull back the rein if he’s too fast,’ said Alison.
Moving through the open fields seemed to open up Mae’s senses as she took in the fresh air. She felt a rush of love for this animal she’d known for about five seconds. She patted Ginger’s shoulder, whispering to him, telling him what a good boy he was, feeling instinctively when to pull the rein, when to press into him.
‘Do you live nearby?’ asked Alison.
‘Not far.’
‘What do you do?’ asked Alison.
How to answer a question to which Mae barely knew the answer? So much of what a person did was attached to who they were, so did this mean Mae was nothing?
‘I’m at uni,’ Mae finally said.
She couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth. Alison began to ask questions about it: which uni, what did she study, how did she find it, what did she want to do with her life? It occurred to Mae that had her family actually asked her similar questions, she’d have very little to say – perhaps, right now, she should be grateful for their indifference. They’d made a round with Ginger and Alison was leading them back to the stable. Mae wanted it to last longer, to go around the fields on her own, to maybe get Ginger to go a bit faster and be lost in the comfort of her own thoughts.
‘Here we are,’ said Alison.
Getting off the horse was almost as stressful as trying to get on, but Mae managed to stumble to the ground and turned to face Ginger.
‘Thanks, boy. That was good going, I reckon. Fancy it again some time?’
Ginger let out a snort, which made Mae laugh.
‘I’m going to take that as a yes, because otherwise you’ve hurt my feelings.’
‘You’re welcome to come back whenever you want,’ said Alison. ‘If you’re interested in finding out more, I’m around. Or t
here’s George who works Wednesdays and Fridays.’
‘Yeah, I’d really like that,’ replied Mae. ‘How did you get into it?’
Alison explained how she grew up on a farm in the Highlands. Her whole family were riders and when she moved here she worked towards opening up a stable.
‘Oh, you own this?’
‘Yep. My pride and joy,’ replied Alison.
Mae looked around the stable and thought what a remarkable achievement it was – to have had a family like that and then for it to inspire a whole lifestyle.
‘You did this all on your own?’ she asked.
‘Well …’ Alison said. ‘My vision, but I had help. As you usually do. But the nuts and bolts of it was me, yes. Wasn’t easy, but nothing worth anything ever is.’
They stood around talking for a little longer as Mae had so many questions, questions she never thought she’d have about horses, but eventually Alison had to go and do her job.
‘Well, I hope I see you again,’ said Alison, shaking Mae’s hand.
‘Me too.’
It occurred to Mae that she wasn’t really doing anything during the summer – wouldn’t it be nice to help out here? Make some money as well as do something she enjoyed? The idea filled her with excitement – doing something useful.
‘Do you have any jobs here? For me? I don’t even mind cleaning out stables, if I have to.’
‘Afraid not. I’m always happy to give new people a go, but all the jobs are taken right now.’
‘Oh,’ said Mae, barely able to hold back her disappointment.
Alison looked at her with sympathy. ‘Before you go … wait there.’
She left Mae and came back minutes later with a book in hand.
‘This is one of my favourite books about horses,’ said Alison, showing a copy of something called Heads Up – Heels Down. ‘It’s old but very good. Take it.’
Mae hesitated. ‘You’re giving it to me?’
‘Well, I’d like it back, but it’s always nice to see young people take an interest in horses. More people should.’
‘Thanks,’ said Mae, taking it. ‘I promise I’ll bring it back.’
‘Good,’ replied Alison. ‘I hope it means you’ll be back for another go on the horse.’
Mae nodded. ‘This time with a proper booking.’
They shook hands again and Mae left, her heart feeling lighter than it had done in a long time, her legs feeling weirdly exerted. Odd how just sitting on a horse was so much work. When she walked into the house she saw her mum and dad pull away from each other, flushed with embarrassment. Oh God. That was it. Mae couldn’t stay in the house and do nothing for the rest of the summer. That was enough moping about. If you wanted things to change then you had to change them. She had to find a job, or else she’d quite literally die of nausea.
‘And how do you feel about babies?’
Mae squeezed her hands together, looking over the madcap desk at the woman opposite her. There were all types of coloured papers strewn over it, pens and pencils scattered everywhere, a box of plain white mugs in the corner that looked in danger of toppling over.
‘Great,’ exclaimed Mae. ‘I mean, I love them.’
White lies were essential when it came to interviews, of course. The woman ran her fingers through her brown, frizzy hair. Mae noticed there was blue and yellow paint on her fingers.
‘We’ve got an assistant but summer’s a busy time so we need some more help. Can you handle them?’ she asked. ‘Because we get all sorts in here. And mothers need to feel that their babies, the fruit of their daily efforts, are looked after, not just because they’re paying you, but because you genuinely care. It’s a joyous thing, to imprint your baby’s foot or hand on a mug like this and sip from it for the rest of your life.’
Not being sure how to respond to this, Mae nodded with as much passion as she could. ‘Yeah. Of course.’
Maybe her mum had a point. Maybe modern living was weird.
‘But if they know the baby’s been distressed while it’s happened, it mars the experience. Quite rightly.’
‘Mhmm. Totes. I mean, totally.’
It was when the woman opened the door to several screaming babies, paint all over a mat and the walls, and a bedraggled-looking assistant, that Mae said she realised that she was late for another interview and ran out of the place as fast as she could.
The next interview was for becoming a promotional jockey. It wasn’t working in a stable but she’d get to hang out with some horses, at least. She’d learn things and be around people who might know more than her. Except when she went in, the man who opened the door stared at her for a while.
‘The ad was for someone petite,’ he said.
Mae looked down at herself. ‘I’m five foot two.’
He sighed and let her walk in. ‘So, er …’ he shuffled around some papers, not looking up at her. ‘Any experience?’
‘Being a promotional jockey?’ she asked. ‘Yeah, loads.’
Mae laughed, but he didn’t return the favour.
‘What hours can you do?’
‘Whatever you want. I’m on uni summer break, so …’ she spread out her hands, ‘free as a bird. Or a horse. Although, horses aren’t really free, are they? But I love them. Horses. They’re like, amazing, right?’
He glanced up at her and sighed again. ‘Listen, you seem nice and all, but the uniforms are small, and I think you might, let’s say, struggle.’
‘Why?’ asked Mae.
‘We mean petite in height and weight.’
Mae had to swallow hard. ‘Are you saying I’m fat?’
‘No, no. It’s not that, I’m not a sizeist.’ He looked at her in horror as Mae just stared at him. ‘My wife’s a little on the large side,’ he continued, stuttering. ‘I don’t mind it at all … Important to have a woman with curves. Not that I’m suggesting anything here.’ He went red as he stumbled over his words.
Mae wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed at him or to laugh.
‘But the uniforms are already in and we won’t have anything that fits you.’
‘Right.’ Mae looked at her hands, feeling ashamed of her weight gain. If she were still clean-eating she’d have got this job. But then she thought what Ji Su would have to say about it and blurted out, ‘So, you just thought everyone who applied would be skinny?’ Mae sucked in her cheeks to show her point. ‘And it’s not like we ride the horse, is it?’
This was interesting. Perhaps Mae did let too many things go. Perhaps she should be more assertive.
He cleared his throat. ‘No, but, well, like I said, the uniforms are already in. You understand what a jockey is, don’t you? They’re diminutive in frame and—’
Mae couldn’t believe it. She was being mansplained to.
‘All right there, Jock prof, I know what jockeys are, thanks.’ She got up, grabbing her shoulder bag from the floor. ‘You know where you can stick your small-minded, fat-shaming jocks.’
With which she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
It had been a good enough story to tell her sisters that evening and at least they laughed.
‘Poor guy,’ said Fatti, her arms free of Adam as Ash was changing his nappy.
Bubblee looked proud. ‘Well done, Mae. Told him what was what. Uni’s making you feistier.’
Bubblee’s phone buzzed as Farah stared at her typing a message to someone. Somehow sensing something, Bubblee looked over the phone at Farah and raised her eyebrows.
‘Someone new or old?’ asked Farah, feigning indifference. And not very well, in Mae’s opinion.
‘Someone irrelevant,’ answered Bubblee, getting back to her phone.
‘But relevant enough to message?’ replied Farah.
Bubblee shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
Fatti and Mae exchanged looks.
‘What other jobs could I do?’ said Mae. ‘I seriously need the money.’
Bubblee looked up from her phone again. ‘Why seriously?�
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Mae hesitated. ‘Oh, you know. Fund the student lifestyle. Everyone works, isn’t it?’
‘I’d take advantage of Mum and Dad helping you with money and concentrate on your studies. Don’t get me wrong, working is good for you, but make the most of what you’re getting,’ Bubblee added, getting back to her phone.
Mae swallowed hard and tried to smile.
‘God, can you put that thing down for two minutes?’ exclaimed Farah.
Then they heard Zoya crying and Farah raised her eyebrows towards Bubblee.
‘I’ll go then, shall I?’ said Bubblee, getting up and leaving to check on their daughter.
‘Maybe we should pay you to look after the kids,’ said Farah, still looking towards the door from where Bubblee had left.
‘Not enough money in the world,’ mumbled Mae.
What Mae really wanted to do was tell Ji Su about what had happened. That night when she lay in bed she went through Ji Su’s Facebook page, feeling a twinge of envy at anyone who was getting to spend their time with her, while Mae was lying there, feeling her brain rot with every day she spent at home. She knew she shouldn’t but maybe enough time had passed? She tapped on Ji Su’s WhatsApp.
Hey. How ru?
It was impressive that Mae only spent seventy-two minutes staring at the phone, waiting for a response. Finally, she decided it was time to go to sleep. Tomorrow’s job interview had to go better.
Mae had got the bus, taking her over an hour with waiting time and changes, and walked towards the booth to enter the amusement park. A World of Adventures was written in yellow and pink, overarching the entrance and flickering with lights. She noticed three of the bulbs were broken. There were only two glossy red booths so she chose the one with the shortest queue.
‘Heyyyyyy!’
Mae took a step back from the curly-haired blonde, waving a pamphlet in her face. The gloss of the paint on the booth, she noticed up close, was looking kind of worn.
The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters Page 10