‘Should we …?’
‘I dunno.’
They both stood by Abdul-Raheem’s car.
‘We should talk about it,’ he said. ‘You look worried.’
‘No,’ she laughed, waving her hand about. ‘I’m not worried. Why would I be worried?’
Except that she was and she didn’t quite know why.
‘Anyway,’ she added. ‘I should get home.’
‘Let me drop you home.’
‘Are you kidding? I mean, my parents will have to get used to this but it’s still a bit soon. They’re … you know.’
He nodded. She was about to leave when he said: ‘I asked you to marry me, you know, and you’re just going to leave? No answer, no explanation.’
Why did everything have to be so hard? Mae shrugged.
‘I don’t have an answer. Or an explanation.’
‘What do you want, Mae?’
So many things. Everything and nothing at all. She wanted to be with Abdul-Raheem without committing to him for an entire lifetime. She wanted to learn something new and make a go of university, if only she could be herself there, and if only she knew what to actually study – Media Studies just didn’t interest her any more. And now that her parents were against her going to university at all, how would she pay for it? She’d have to get a loan. She wanted her family to be speaking to her and accept that she had a black boyfriend without having to justify anything. She wanted her sisters to stop being so selfish and have the same kind of closeness with them as she did when they were younger. But the younger Mae had accepted being the afterthought in everything and this somehow didn’t feel right to her any more. Something would have to give, only she wasn’t sure what.
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
‘Do you want me?’ he asked.
She nodded.
He seemed relieved. ‘Then? Why are you hesitating? Are you scared of what your parents will say? Maybe do?’
‘I don’t know.’
His question felt like the logical explanation, but it just didn’t entirely ring true. She looked up at him.
‘Listen, I just need some time to think about it. I’m only nineteen.’
‘I know. But in the end, it’s just a number, like they say it is.’
‘It feels like a bit more than that,’ she replied.
Abdul-Raheem nodded. ‘All right then. Fine. Take some time.’
‘Are you mad?’
‘No.’
‘Then?’
He took a deep breath. ‘I just … I thought you’d want this too.’
She wished she could say that she did want it. But the words couldn’t come out. Mae took his hands and squeezed them but he gave her a sad smile before turning around and walking away.
On the way home Mae got off the bus, picked up a doner kebab, and ate it on the rest of the journey home. She’d been left several messages on her phone from each of her sisters. They all probably missed having an on-call babysitter.
Marriage. Marriage. The idea made her feel claustrophobic and yet she knew Abdul-Raheem wasn’t controlling, the type to tell her what to do or what to wear, so why was she not happy when someone she loved proposed to her? Maybe it was the fact that he’d done it in a horse’s costume. No. Mae didn’t care about that, though she probably should have. The look on his face doubled up the guilt she had for not saying yes immediately. As she entered the house she heard her sisters’ voices quietly settle, but she didn’t go into the living room, instead she walked straight up to her room. It didn’t take long for someone to knock on her door.
‘I’m sleeping.’
‘It’s only eight thirty,’ said Bubblee, opening the door and entering the room.
‘Did I say you could come in?’
‘If I waited for that I’d be outside for ever.’
‘Yeah, maybe you should get the hint.’
Mae had just changed into her pyjamas and began to fold her clothes, pretending to sort through them.
‘How long are you going to ignore us?’
‘As long as you’re all racist.’
‘Jeez, you need to stop with that. We are not racist. At least I’m not.’
Mae stopped folding her black T-shirt. ‘Truth hurts, huh?’
‘Okay. Our reaction wasn’t exactly … admirable. But it doesn’t follow that we’re racists. You shouldn’t go bandying that word around, you know. It means something.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘You’re being a real brat right now.’
Mae turned to her sister and folded her arms. ‘And you’re being a really bad older sister. The one time you guys should’ve stood up for me in front of Mum and Dad and instead you just stayed quiet.’
‘There was a lot to process.’
‘Since when have you ever needed time to process things? And, you know, I was there, having cancelled my own plans just to babysit for you and Farah so you could both have your evenings out and I didn’t even get a thank you.’
By this point Farah had come up behind Bubblee.
‘I thanked you,’ replied Bubblee as Mae looked at Farah.
‘You were so relieved I’d agreed to it you’d have said anything in case I changed my mind. What were Farah’s words? “You were meant to be looking after Zoya.”’
‘Well, you were,’ replied Farah.
Mae shook her head, wondering how she’d ever got along with her sisters in the past. Had they always refused to see her point of view? Maybe it was because she’d never had a solid point of view.
‘Yeah, well, forget that ever happening again. You know, when was the last time any of you asked me about uni?’
Bubblee and Farah paused.
‘We do ask you,’ said Bubblee.
‘When was the last time?’
Fatti had now also come upstairs and stood next to Farah.
‘Look through our group chat,’ added Mae. ‘When have you ever really asked me how it’s going, who my friends are, how I’m finding it? And even when you have, you don’t wait for two seconds before launching into some story about your babies or whatever.’
‘Mae, when you’re a mum, then you’ll understand what it’s like,’ said Farah.
Bubblee closed her eyes and sighed.
‘Right,’ said Mae. ‘That’s exactly what I’m talking about. No wonder Bubblee can’t stand to be around you, Faar. If becoming a mum turns me into someone like you I’d rather not have kids, thanks. Do the world a favour.’
‘Mae,’ said Fatti.
‘Whatever,’ said Mae. ‘Leave my room. I don’t want to see or talk to any of you. You can all think I’m a brat, or selfish or whatever, but it’s not as if you lot are any better. Just because you’re mums you think you have this higher purpose and so all that matters is what you do and forget everyone else. Fine.’ Mae shrugged. ‘Get on with it. You might be great mums, but you can know for sure that you’ve been pretty crap sisters.’
A strange kind of detachment came over Mae. Anger had fizzled and its after-effect was numbness. She didn’t even look at her sisters as she folded more clothes. They all hovered, waiting for more, perhaps wanting to say something, but in the end it felt like there was nothing much to add.
‘Mae,’ was all Fatti managed as Bubblee turned around and walked out of the room.
Mae closed the door without a second look. As she folded her khaki cargo trousers they blurred so that the room was just a haze. She sat on her bed, trousers in hand, and wiped her eyes. Her phone beeped and she thought it might be Abdul-Raheem as she went to grab it.
Ji Su: Hey. How are you?
Mae had to take a minute and make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Ji Su was online but Mae didn’t respond. It wouldn’t be enough to just message her – how was she meant to be normal over WhatsApp when so much was going on? She might not have known Ji Su long, but she knew her and hopefully that meant that the message was her way of saying that Mae had been forgiven, which was good timing because what Mae ne
eded more than anything else right now was a friend. She couldn’t stay in the house any longer. Instead of pretending to go to bed she grabbed some of the clothes she’d folded, stuffed them in a bag, along with a few other necessities, and wrote her family a note:
Gone back to uni. Will be back when I’m back. Mae.
They were too busy nattering in the living room to notice her creep down the stairs and place the note in the hallway. She prayed that her dad’s keys were hanging by the doorway and there they were. Her mum and dad might kill her, but she’d worry about that tomorrow – in for a penny and all that. She flung her things into the car and was sure her family were too busy to even hear the engine start as Mae pulled out of the driveway.
Mae drove for four hours, stopping once to fill the car with more petrol and use the bathroom. And get some fish and chips. There was a downpour of rain at one point, which stopped as abruptly as it had begun. She didn’t even know if Ji Su would be home, but she’d get a room at the Travelodge or something and look for her. All Mae knew was that she had to get away from home and everyone in it. Even Abdul-Raheem.
In the end, Mae knew she’d been silly driving up on a whim. It was almost one in the morning when she checked into the Travelodge and she messaged Ji Su.
Mae: Meet me outside r café if u can.
A few moments later her reply came.
Ji Su: It’s the middle of the night …
What had Mae been thinking? A few seconds later another reply came.
Ji Su: Fine. I’m coming. Be there in 20.
In the meantime, Mae walked around the quiet town, which felt strangely desolate now that it wasn’t teeming with students, falling out of clubs and bars. The light of the street lamps fell onto the wet, empty cobbled streets, a few plastic bags drifting around. Mae picked them up and put them in one of the bins. She felt a strange fondness for the place, even as she walked past the club where she’d had the incident. What would it mean if she never walked these streets again? Or, if she walked them with Abdul-Raheem? How would the scope of the place change? How would she change? Being here only made her increasingly aware of how small Wyvernage was, how tiny its life – the roads as narrow as the minds of her family. Eventually, she reached their café and Ji Su was already waiting there. She was in a pair of Converses, zebra-print pyjamas and a white T-shirt, a red shawl draped around her shoulders. Mae hadn’t prepared for it. What did she even want to say to her? Now they were face to face, all the things that had happened over the summer clogged up in her throat.
‘Hi,’ said Mae.
‘Hello.’
Mae walked up to her, wondering if she should hug Ji Su, but she was standing there with her arms folded, refusing to move. She had been the one to message Mae, after all. Why did she look so stony-faced?
‘I was glad you messaged,’ said Mae.
‘Yeah, well …’
‘Sorry I dragged you out of bed.’
‘Bit random. And late.’
‘Guess so,’ replied Mae.
There was a long pause.
‘Well?’ said Ji Su. ‘Are we going to stand here all day or are we going somewhere?’
‘Riverside bench?’ suggested Mae.
Ji Su shrugged as they both began to walk towards the riverside. It took around ten minutes to get there and it was spent in silence. If the silence had been awkward then Mae didn’t feel it because she was too busy thinking about what she was going to say. By the time they sat on the bench, still damp from the rain, Mae was none the wiser.
‘I really missed you, you know,’ she said eventually.
Silence.
Mae looked at Ji Su’s profile. She was still so pretty, her hair bunched up in a high, messy bun, eyebrows furrowed.
‘How’ve you been?’ she asked.
‘You know. Busy,’ replied Ji Su.
‘Saving the world?’
‘Failing the world.’
Mae smiled. ‘At least you’re failing at something worthwhile.’
Ji Su looked at her. ‘What are you failing at?’
Mae looked at the dark ripples in the river, feeling the quiet of night-time. ‘We’ll talk about that later, if you still want to be friends, but first, I just want to say sorry.’
‘Please, don’t. It’s embarrassing,’ replied Ji Su, looking sterner than ever.
‘No. Not sorry that we didn’t go through with anything …’
Ji Su turned to her and raised her eyebrows.
‘Can’t apologise for something that I didn’t feel at the time,’ replied Mae.
Even she was shocked at all this forthrightness, but she was beginning to learn that honesty was better than just carrying on pretending that everything was fine, because that had a time limit.
‘I’m sorry I had to lose you as a friend because of it.’
‘I just thought … You gave me all the signs, you know.’
‘Did I?’
Mae looked back and wondered what the line between friendship and something more than that was. She couldn’t lie, she had felt something for Ji Su, but in the end it was more to do with wanting to be like her than wanting to be with her.
‘I guess I did. You’re right,’ added Mae.
‘I’ve met someone now. At a protest.’
‘Really? That’s great.’
Mae felt a mixture of happiness for her friend that was tinged with an unexpected pang of jealousy. Perhaps it was because Ji Su had someone with whom she was sharing her day-to-day life; someone other than Mae. Ji Su told her about Leila, showed her a picture of a girl with long brown hair, coming down in waves, a smile with a slightly crooked front tooth and Mae thought what a good-looking couple they made.
‘She’s very pretty.’
‘And smart,’ Ji Su added. ‘Doesn’t take any crap from anyone.’
‘Hmm. Sounds like someone I know.’
Ji Su laughed. ‘Yeah, well. Arguments aren’t that much fun between us but, you know.’
There was another long pause as Mae looked at Ji Su. ‘Can we be friends again?’
Ji Su nodded. ‘Yeah. I think we can.’
Mae breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that because that could’ve been really awks.’
They caught up on other stuff that had been happening, then Mae began to tell her about Abdul-Raheem as she watched Ji Su’s expressions change at each turn of her story.
‘He’s holding out on you?’ Ji Su shook her head. ‘What’s wrong with people? Men and their whole religious thing. Ugh. It’s so last century. Hope you told him where to stick it.’
For a moment Mae wondered what Abdul-Raheem would make of Ji Su. Whatever his opinion might be, she knew he’d be polite and civil.
‘No. He’s a good person,’ said Mae.
‘Sounds like a drip. Making you follow his way of life.’
How had Ji Su got it so wrong? She told her that he never forced her to do anything she didn’t want, that he seemed to accept her just the way she was.
‘Yeah, until you’re married and then watch,’ said Ji Su. ‘Then it’ll all be, “I’m your husband, you have to listen to me”.’
Mae sighed. ‘You know, for someone who’s meant to be liberal you’re being kind of narrow-minded.’
‘What? No, I’m not. I’m just telling it how it is.’
‘No. You’re telling it how you think it is. You’ve not even met him.’
‘I’ve met his type.’
Mae paused and looked at Ji Su. ‘I’d have thought that for someone who’s struggled growing up, you’d get his struggle too.’
‘You seem to have made up your mind about him, so why don’t you just marry him? Why do you need to ask me about it?’
‘I’m not asking anyone.’
Mae looked at the river again and realised how much growing up there was to do in life. That even the people she respected and loved couldn’t see how skewed their vision could be.
‘All I’m saying is that he’s a twenty-eight-year-old man w
ho pretends to be a horse for a day job and refuses to have a physical relationship because he thinks he’ll burn in hell if he does. I mean, please.’
Of course, Mae supposed there was nothing untrue about Ji Su’s assessment but that was just him on paper; you’d have to know Abdul-Raheem to see how kind and caring he was too.
‘He’s the one who keeps saying I should come back to uni. That I should try to do something I love and try to make a go of it. He wants to get back to studies as well.’
‘So, you want to marry him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why not? If he’s so great?’
‘Loads of people are great,’ said Mae. ‘Doesn’t mean I want to spend the rest of my life with them.’
‘Exactly. And you have to ask yourself, what do you want?’
Mae knew that. The question had been flitting around her head for however many months now and she’d got no closer to the answer.
‘I want some sleep right now,’ she replied.
‘Yeah. You must be tired.’
They walked back to town, Mae asking about Ji Su’s plans in the new term and hearing about the things she wanted to achieve and how she was going to pave the way to work for an NGO after university. Mae’s excitement for Ji Su was only matched by her sense of panic for herself. They got to the middle of town where Mae had to turn left and Ji Su right.
‘Thanks for meeting me,’ said Mae, hugging her friend.
‘Well, you did drive all that way. Couldn’t stay mad at you for ever.’
Mae turned around and began walking towards the Travelodge when Ji Su called out to her.
‘And listen.’
Mae turned around.
‘You’ll figure out what you want,’ said Ji Su. ‘If it’s Abdul-Raheem, then you’ll know. And if you’re still unsure then that’s another kind of answer too.’
‘Thanks,’ Mae called out.
‘Just … whatever you do, don’t change.’
Mae nodded and thought about that as she walked through the town centre. The point was, Mae did want to change. She wanted to be a better version of herself and she wouldn’t be able to do that in Wyvernage, that was for sure. She turned around, looking at the barren town, and wanted to see it when it was alive again, brimming with people and students. Mae was unsure of many things still, but one thing she now knew: she’d have to return here and finish what she had started. She may have failed her first year at university, but what was failure other than a sign that you just had to try again? This time, she’d just have to try harder.
The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters Page 22