by Bee Rowlatt
OK, May, over and out for now. I hope you’re feeling as uplifted and delirious as I am…
Hugs
B XXX
01.02.08
The shore can be seen
Dizzy is inadequate to describe how I feel… Delirious? No… Dreamy? No… I think I am going crazy. We keep talking about future plans, past sorrows and how we are going to leave them behind. I think the journey is nearing the end. The shore, though distant, can be seen, in my mind. Do you think that I will one day put my feet up (metaphorically) and sleep the whole night without being awakened by the sound of explosions and bullets?
Will I bid farewell to the sight of blood, chaos and damage? Farewell to those ignorant and uneducated traditionalists who wander around trying to get their revenge from anyone who is even slightly well-off or educated?
Will I be able to take a shower whenever I want, and dry my hair when I choose without having to put the generator on and then turn it off to save on fuel?
Will I be able to go out for a walk and breathe fresh air?
All I want from life is to be able to live and talk freely without any fear. I don’t really know what I’m saying. The words keep tumbling out. I have no control over them. I am so happy that it is making me scared. Nothing so good has ever happened to me since my return to Iraq. I’ve told you it has always been my dream to leave for a better world. A place where I can have peace of mind before anything else.
There are other things I would like to tell you about the Old Man, but they are taboo. Sometimes I think it is like this wizard in Harry Potter who is described as ‘He who must not be named’. Yes, we have always been scared. But to tell the truth, we are still scared in one way or another. I will write about it later.
Time to go now, lovely Bee.
May XXX
11.02.08
Our anniversary
Hi, May
I’ve just come back from the perfect romantic break. It wasn’t our wedding anniversary but the anniversary of us actually meeting for the first time, eight years ago. Swinton Park is a rambling country mansion with wooden floors, soaring gold-patterned ceilings and oil paintings glowering down. You enter via a long sweeping drive, and the grounds go on for miles with deer and woodland. But instead of being stuffy and posh inside everyone is friendly and Yorkshire-y. The food was amazing and we were greedy. Justin said if I got pregnant there we could call the baby Swinton Rowlatt. I said no, both to getting pregnant, and to having a baby that sounds like the villain in a Hardy novel.
There was a moment when we had tea in one of the splendid rooms. I looked into my teacup and saw the reflection of the chandelier in my tea. With any small movement the image splintered, shaken into random sparkly lights and bits of rainbows, then gradually resolved itself back into the chandelier again. This happened over and over again. I was hypnotized by my own teacup.
By Saturday afternoon I’d got used to pretending that I actually lived there, but we had to leave and go back to my mum’s. We stayed a night and left yesterday after a bit of a row with my mum. I’d got all bottled up about feeling that she always has to take me down a peg or two, and as though I have to downplay the good things that happen to me in case she thinks I don’t deserve them. I don’t know what brought it all on, but I got very emotional and shrieky. She just didn’t know what I was on about. It wasn’t good. Well, it was awful actually. But I hope it’s OK now. As my family is so small I get very upset about family arguments. Still digesting it in my mind.
Hope you’re well – and how’s Ali?
Write soon
Bee XX
PS I’m sitting here writing with a big bit of toast with pâté on and slices of raw onion that are stronger than I thought and v smelly, HAHA! You’re lucky you’re so far away.
11.02.08
Flames of love
Dearest Bee
So glad you enjoyed the mini holiday. I think it is kind of refreshing to a marriage and rekindles the flames of love.
We’ve been having the mid-term holidays and will be back on Sunday. I haven’t been out of the house at all. Not even to the garage. I’ve been hearing all kinds of explosions and gunfire. They are quite close but I don’t really know where. A couple of nights ago there were searches and arrests in the area but, thank God, no one knocked on our door. They probably know who they are after and know that we are just ordinary people.
Ali has bought a game of snakes and ladders and we play all the time to combat the boredom. I usually win, and you should see his face and how he starts to stamp his feet and call me a cheat. I laugh so much at him. It is really not so much the game that I enjoy as Ali’s reaction. We make all kinds of bets. Some of them are unrepeatable and we laugh and laugh at one another.
I made chicken with tomato sauce and rice for lunch and a huge bowl of salad to go with it. Work was dreary and I don’t have much energy today. I don’t know why. I slept for 10 hours last night so I should feel very energized, but that’s how I am: always contrary.
Is there any news about the book? What happens now that Penguin have said yes? Do we now have everything we need for me to start thinking about visas? This is the best news we’ve had and I want to start planning, but I don’t want us to go through the pain of planning only for our hopes to be dashed. Please let me know what I should do next.
I can’t stay long now because I have to go and take a shower. We haven’t had electricity for the past four days, and so no hot water for a complete wash. I leave the rest to your imagination…
Love you, dearest
May XXXX
19.02.08
By the fireside
Hello, lovely May
You’ll be back at work now, and probably exhausted, but I just love hearing your news. Is everything OK?
First things first. Adrian tells me all the details of the deal have been settled, but then the contracts have to be drawn up and signed so that there is money available to cover your living costs when you and Ali get to England. The money from the book makes up a big chunk of the money that we need to raise, but Justin and I are thinking about ways to raise the rest – as soon as we hit that £30,000 mark, CARA can confirm all the details and you can start applying for your visas. It’s feeling a lot closer.
It’s freezing here. I’ve dragged the heavy sofa across the room so it’s right in front of the fire, which is banked up and glowing. Now I’m cold on one side of my face but hot on the other. There’s a programme on TV about lizards by the wonderful David Attenborough. (When I was little we didn’t have a TV and the only thing my mum let us watch was his nature programme Life on Earth. We’d go round to a friend’s house.) It’s been freezing all day; really beautiful and clear too, but so cold, and I can’t stop eating.
We had a small gang of the girls’ friends over today after school. They dressed up in some weird clothes Justin got from work. There was a charity sale of celebrity clothing from reality shows at the BBC. He bought some for fun, and came back laden with tacky items that look like prostitute’s clothes: a sequinned red dress, silver high heels, a gold sequinned miniskirt, and finally the real shocker – a pair of knee-high shiny bright red extremely high-heeled boots. They’re like transvestite boots.
Naturally the girls fell upon this inappropriate bounty; they think it’s some kind of exquisite princess clothing. Even Elsa tried to totter about in the red boots. So this is what the girls and their friends most enjoyed, and luckily the parents didn’t come back in time to find their children freakishly dressed up in my house. Elsa has been a bit ill (high temperature and not eating) but when the girls were all playing she really cheered up and tried to join in with them.
May, do you ever get sick of me rambling on about the kids? I don’t talk this much to anyone else about them, and you don’t even have kids yourself. Well, I’m quite sleepy now; I quite want to go to bed but the fire is so nice, I always feel it’s a shame to leave it still glowing. I’ll wait up for Justin, I guess. He’s doing a speech somewhere and w
ill be back late.
I hope you’re well, May.
Write soon
B XXX
PS OK… I’m going to tell you a SECRET: I’ve decided to get pregnant. I’ve hinted at it with Justin and reached the final decision in my own mind. I feel a lot of dread about it; I truly hate being pregnant and look on it like a jail sentence. But I adore babies. When I see them I get tears in my eyes. It means the world to Justin (he’s obsessed with having another one, as I’ve told you) and I think if I’m going to do it I should hurry up, as I’m 37 this year. But am I crazy? I think people will think it madness to have four kids. Three is just about OK, but with four I will be a freak show. Oh dear, oh dear, now I’m talking myself out of it…
27.02.08
My mum
May, I’m not feeling great. My mum called and she’s got a small lump in her breast (it’s called a ductal carcinoma in situ). I can’t get it out of my mind. She is going into hospital on Monday to have a lumpectomy and will go home on Tuesday. She has a deep terror of hospitals and anaesthetics so that makes it even worse for her, but she said the doctors were very nice. I asked Dave if I should go up and visit but he thought I might just add to the hassle. After the lumpectomy I guess they should know how serious it might or might not be. It makes me feel awful and I’m very gloomy at the moment.
Have to head out to the shops now with Elsa and buy loads of food. It’s my book group tonight and we’re having it here for the first time, so I have to cook for everyone. I’m nervous because Justin always does the cooking, so I hope it goes OK (plus the book is Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, a maudlin monotonous book with sentences so long and tedious you can’t keep your eyes on the right word).
Hope you’re enjoying your work.
Love
B XX
28.02.08
Yesterday’s email
Dear Bee
Sorry to hear about your mum. At the same time, thank God she found out about it early enough. It is much better to check the growth at an early stage. Tell me about any developments; I feel really worried about her.
The funniest thing happened today when I was cleaning upstairs with the mop. I accidentally hit a wooden block the size of a fist. It fell right on Ali’s bald head and I just couldn’t stop laughing. He was cursing and calling me names and I just giggled and giggled. After that there was a small lump on his head.
As for your little secret, dear, I don’t think you should be scared. Go on with it BUT go to a clinic to make sure it is a boy, if this is possible. You will be much happier if you have the two sexes. As for age, well, this is nothing; you are still very young. We have women of 50 here having babies – sometimes both mother and daughter get pregnant – so age is really nothing, especially as it is not your first pregnancy. I love the idea and I think you are a good mother, so why not? Go ahead and do it. But what made you change your mind?
Tomorrow is Friday, my day off. The house is clean and there are no dirty clothes, so I think I’ll just rest and mark some papers, that’s all. I don’t really mind but my joints and bones hurt and my body is not as flexible as it used to be. Well, I hope this will end soon when I start exercising again. The thought of being able to walk around freely in England keeps me going and, yes, you are right, it feels so close now but I know that it will take time. I cannot thank you and Justin enough for everything you are doing for us.
OK, love, must go now. Kisses to you all.
Love you always
May XXXXX
03.03.08
My weekend
Hi there, May
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Eva and Zola made me breakfast in bed (it was toast). Zola put honey on it but forgot the butter, then added the butter on top. Eva put heaps of Marmite. They’d made very sweet cards and brought some daffodils to put next to my bed too. We all squeezed in and ate toast in bed; there were crumbs everywhere and Elsa thought it was very funny. Then we went to Whipsnade Zoo, where we saw a baby rhino playing with its mum and skipping about. Imagine a rhino skipping! We ate a picnic even though it was freezing.
It’s so cold I have to keep moving, so end up doing silly things like clearing out cupboards, ‘aerating’ the lawn and so on. Last night I went to our local Neighbourhood Watch meeting. We meet once a year to discuss security – burglaries, that sort of thing. All the neighbours are furious about some gates to an alleyway behind our houses being taken down. We’re campaigning to get them put back. I’m only telling you this as it must seem quite comical, given how it is in your neighbourhood.
Justin’s filming in Scotland. My mum is in hospital and I haven’t heard from her yet but she should get sent home later today or tomorrow.
Bbrrrr, I’m off to make more tea. I’m going to make a big shepherd’s pie tonight. Sometimes I think my life revolves almost entirely around food. But that’s a good thing.
Write soon
Bee XXX
PS Thanks for asking about my mum. Still feeling a bit strange, May. To be honest, since she told me about this operation I’ve been really distracted; it’s in the back of my mind constantly. We’ve chatted on the phone a couple of times and she sounded her normal self. The worst bit is that the last time I was up in Yorkshire we had that huge row. That’s so typical, isn’t it? Now I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. But then feelings have to come out, don’t they?
04.03.08
Holidays all year long
Lovely Bee, love
Couldn’t write for various reasons, but the most awful thing happened yesterday. As you know, we’ve had the mid-term holidays. These were followed by the fortieth commemoration of the Imam Al-Hussein’s death (he was killed in a battle between Moslems and from this incident the Sunni–Shia conflict originated) during which college was also closed for a week, as was everything else. To top all this we have had President Ahmadinejad of Iran on a two-day visit and so there has been no school or college.
Yesterday my hairdresser called; I haven’t had a haircut for as long as three months and it looked awful. She said she was in her shop, so I asked if the road was OK and she said yes. I took my mum with me because her hair was looking frightful. On the way back I stopped to buy a takeaway lunch for Ali and me. As I got close to our neighbourhood a bomb exploded; it was so near that it shook the car. The soldiers were everywhere and they started shooting in the air and shouting at us in a very rude manner to all get out, turn our cars round and drive back to where we’d come from.
I did, and decided to take another route. As I got close to our area again, I saw that there was a roadblock. The soldiers came and told us to return to wherever we’d come from. In the end, we didn’t get home for over four and a half hours. I arrived home exhausted and almost in tears, and my mother was just a nervous wreck.
I didn’t work on my translation article and went to bed early.
I have to go now – starting work. Say hello to your mum from me if you get in touch with her.
Love you lots
May XXXX
PS I am now researching a topic I’m thinking of working on for the PhD. I want to work on ‘fallen women’ in nineteenth-century English literature. I need to know how journalism tackled this during that period. Can you help?
05.03.08
Dangerous hairdo and PhD thoughts
May, thanks for writing. Please don’t risk your life again for a hairdo! I’m sure your hair didn’t look that bad. I can only hope you got your highlights done too, seeing as you went to that much trouble.
Yesterday it was awful – on the radio I heard the most gruesome reports from Baghdad about people being assassinated INSIDE hospitals, actually in the treatment rooms, by Shia militia groups. The reporter said, ‘If this was in a movie, it would look too far-fetched.’ So don’t let Ali go into hospital for any reason.
My mum came out of hospital yesterday. The lumpectomy went OK and she has to go back in next week, on Thursday, to talk to them about the results of the tests. I’m going to catch a
train up for the day and go along with her. I thought I was OK about it all, but yesterday afternoon I was out running on the Heath. I was listening to a song called ‘Hey Mama’ by Kanye West and I just started to cry; I had tears pouring down my face as I ran along. It’s a song I listened to a lot when Elsa was born. The thought that if my mum died soon then Elsa would not remember her came into my head, but I tried to banish it. Of course she’s not going to die. She is a tough one, as I’ve told you, so there’s no point in me being all tearful about it.
Let’s change the subject. I’m delighted at your idea for your PhD. You’ve chosen one of the best and juiciest eras of literature. The person who springs to mind is Christina Rossetti. She actually worked with so-called ‘fallen women’ at her sister’s nunnery, and her poetry combines strange religious fervour with quite overtly sexual imagery (‘Goblin Market’). At our wedding my friend Alice read a Rossetti poem, ‘A Birthday’. Does it have to be the nineteenth century? Mary Wollstonecraft is the century before, but is of course the original feminist in literature. Her life story is unbelievable, daring and tragic.
How exciting. It’s a good distraction for you too. What a luxury to sit and think about great literature and amazing women. I’ve just glued a load of marshmallows on to small cakes; that’s my contribution to humanity for today. (It’s Eva’s class tea today, and cakes with icing and sweets stuck on fetch a much better price.)
Take care
Bee X
PS This is the one from my wedding.
A BIRTHDAY by Christina Rossetti
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water’d shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.