Henry sat with me. “You didn’t tell me Ajita would be so beautiful.”
“Is she the most beautiful of my girlfriends?”
“She might well turn out to be, but it’s still early days for you. Why don’t we go for a stroll?”
“I’m well embedded here.”
“I’ve got something to tell you,” he said. “It isn’t a secret I want to keep.” He put his arm around me. “Show me where to go.”
I followed him. At the door of the kitchen we put on Wellington boots. Outside, I laughed as he stared at the sculptures. Before he could say anything, I said, “They’re Alan’s art.”
I noticed, beside another barn, a studio made of glass and new wood. The doors were open and I could see two drawing boards; on the floor there were pieces of cut and uncut metal, some of them painted-Alan’s workshop.
“That looks good,” I said. “Maybe I should suggest the architect to Mum and Billie. They’re looking to get a studio built in their garden. Did they tell you?”
“Yes, I heard about it,” said Henry.
Miriam had taken him to lunch with Billie and Mum not long ago; and Henry had taken the two older women to the opera on another occasion, when he had been offered tickets. Far from being the anticipated and necessary wedge between parent and child, Henry, the new lover, characteristically failed Miriam-to her irritation. He not only liked Mum and Billie and shared their interest in the visual arts, he didn’t take Miriam’s complaints seriously. “Oh, she’s far better than most mothers,” he’d say. “You can talk to her about anything! You should have met my mother, a woman whose hysteria and depression could have infected Europe!”
Now Henry said to me, “I saw a woman last night, at Kama Sutra, a place we’ve started to go to. It was dark. She attracted me, I have to admit. But I couldn’t stop thinking that I recognised her. She was wearing heels and a mask and some other skimpy stuff. She was thinner than I remembered, but it was her posture, her hair that reminded me of Josephine.”
I sighed. “My Josephine?”
“Jamal, I had no idea what she was doing there, whether it was her first time or whether she was a regular.”
Josephine had always had a leisurely walk, daydreaming as she went, swinging her arms. I had often wondered, How can anyone walk so slowly and still move forward? We would go separately to parties, so as not to have to walk at different speeds.
I said, “It’s quite a change for Josephine, to go to a place like that. But most of her friends are just people she feels sorry for, and her boyfriend dumped her. At least that’s what I guessed. He was around for a while, then seemed to disappear. I asked Rafi, who said she found him boring.”
Henry said, “I went into a bit of a panic. Miriam was busy. I lost my excitement. I knew it would be a big deal for you-for anyone. I followed her from room to room. She seemed completely distracted.”
“Did you talk to her?” He shook his head. “Did she recognise you or Miriam?”
“God, no. Even I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. I tell Miriam everything and hope for the same from her. But this was private.”
Like most people in the house, I’d been drinking since before lunch. There had been coke too, brought around by the staff with drinks, which sobered me up briefly and enabled me to keep on drinking. The wind was fresh and the day was clear. I was beginning to take to the countryside. I had a joint in my pocket, which Henry and I smoked as we trod across the fields. By the time Henry had finished, I was pretty gone, feeling as sad and empty as I had when Ajita, Valentin and Wolf all left me.
He said, “I guess there’s no going back now-if you ever thought about that. And I suspect you did.”
“Yes, I did. My wife still fascinates me.”
“Jamal, I’m worrying about you!”
“You’re a good friend, but don’t let it spoil your day. I guess I should be looking after her. It’s what she always wanted, but she made sure I failed at it, over and over.”
“Will you say something to her?”
“I doubt it. All I heard was that she was speed-dating.”
He laughed. “Thank Christ you never worked as a therapist with couples.”
“It’s lucrative work, I hear. Plenty of demand.”
Henry said, “Mind you, what am I saying? A cursory glance at the early analysts and their disciples and colleagues will show what a bunch of perverts, suicides and nutters they were, apart from Freud. Completely human, then. But at least they knew one true thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You either love or fall sick.”
That night most of us were too coked up to eat much, but Miriam and Henry were hungry, and I sat with them and Ajita at supper. Henry hardly noticed that he was being served by uniformed staff, but Miriam insisted on helping with the washing up.
That Saturday evening, in one of the barns a low stage had been constructed. The staff had set up lights and brought in numerous instruments. Crates of wine and beer as well as bottles of vodka and tequila were placed at the bottom of the stage. People sat around on chairs, and those, like me, who found it difficult to stay upright lay on cushions on the floor.
However close to unconsciousness I might be, I didn’t want to miss Charlie Hero playing an acoustic version of “Kill for Dada,” which he’d first recorded in the 70s with the Condemned.
Alan pushed Mustaq forward. There was much applause and excitement. Mustaq didn’t want to play, but he would obey Alan. So Mustaq, now becoming George, sat at the piano. He was quiet for a moment and then began to doodle, waiting to see what might come. When the notes took shape, they became a terrifyingly honest and personal account of Neil Young’s “Helpless,” as good as the version of that song I preferred, sung by k. d. lang. I was beginning to see why the former Mushy Peas was a famous pop star.
Ajita, now in a little denim skirt, joined him for the chorus with a tambourine, swaying and laughing. When she pulled me up to join her, even I couldn’t resist. My dance moves hadn’t evolved since the 70s. The difference between then and now was the ghost standing between us, her father.
Later, after Ajita and I had smooched-“Smooch, my darling, is a word I haven’t used for some time”-Karim and Charlie harmonised on “Let’s Dance,” Karim playing some groovy bass, and Karen throwing her thong and then her Manolos at him. I think I saw her later with a servant, trying to retrieve a Manolo from a tangle of wires behind the stage.
Ajita had danced with Henry and Miriam, and we shared a bottle of champagne on the lawn as we smoked and cooled down. Then we went back to hear Mustaq play “Everyone Has Their Heart Torn Apart, Sometime,” which he dedicated to me, its only begetter.
Don’t ask me when, but the party turned into a rock’n’roll session with anyone who could play anything jamming, and Mustaq beating the piano like Jerry Lee Lewis. Henry couldn’t wait to get naked, dancing as though swatting away killer bees, as if he’d wasted the 60s and needed to catch up. Miriam danced next to the speakers in bra and pants, wanting everyone to see her tattoos. She’d shown them to Ajita, explaining the idea and provenance of each one. Ajita, appalled and fascinated, had seemed to think, by the end, that her life would be improved by the addition of a “tat.”
I can remember watching Mustaq help his sister out of the room and upstairs, and seeing a haunted, exhausted look on her face, one I’d never seen before. I cannot recall what time the staff carried me up to bed. Apparently, they were busy with bodies all night. I know I couldn’t even spark up my lighter to hold it aloft.
“It was a major catastrophe,” Mustaq laughed, the next day.