A sly look passed between the women, just a flash, before Arvinder said, ‘Oh yes. We did a lot of learning today.’
The women beamed. Kulwinder considered asking them more. Perhaps they needed a reminder that their learning was the result of her clever initiative. I do everything for you, she used to tell Maya, sometimes with pride and at other times, with frustration. The women looked desperate to get back to their conversation. Kulwinder was reminded of Maya and her friends huddled together, their hushed conversation often punctuated with giggles. ‘What was so funny?’ Kulwinder would ask later, knowing the question was enough to make Maya dissolve into giggles again, and then Kulwinder couldn’t help laughing along. The memory was accompanied by a stabbing pain in her gut. What she would give to see her daughter’s smile again. She bade the women farewell and continued her journey. She had never been close to these women and she knew they had signed up for her classes for lack of anything else to do. She had loss in common with them, but losing a child was different. Nobody knew the ache of rage, guilt and profound sadness that Kulwinder carried with her every day.
This main road had some shadowy patches where walls of hedges and parked cars could easily hide a crouching assailant. She reached for her phone, wanting to ask Sarab to come and pick her up but standing still seemed just as risky. She set her sights on the junction of Queen Mary Road and marched onward, aware that her heart had started pounding. After the caller had hung up last night, she had sat up in bed, alert to every creak and shift in the house. She had drifted to sleep eventually but this morning, exhausted and alone, she found herself inexplicably furious, this time at Maya for putting her through all of this.
Laughter broke like fireworks into the air. Kulwinder whipped around. It was the women again. Manjeet waved but she pretended not to see. Kulwinder craned her neck as if she was checking something on the building. From this distance, the glow in the window reminded her of flames. She turned her back on the building and walked so briskly she nearly broke into a run.
Chapter Five
Around the corner from the car park, Nikki had discovered a spot where she could hide and have a cigarette before class. Here the temple was completely cut off from her view. She shook a cigarette from its pack and lit it. Her shift at O’Reilly’s last night had felt longer than usual and she found herself looking forward to tonight’s lesson.
Nikki finished her cigarette and entered the community centre building, running straight into Kulwinder Kaur on the stairwell.
‘Oh hello,’ she said.
Kulwinder’s nose crinkled. ‘You’ve been smoking. I can smell it on you.’
‘I was standing near some smokers, and …’
‘Maybe these excuses work on your mother, but I know better.’
‘I don’t think my smoking should be your concern,’ Nikki said, straightening her shoulders.
There was heat in Kulwinder’s stare. ‘The behaviour of an instructor is my concern. The women look to you for guidance. I don’t know how they’re supposed to respect any instructions that come from the mouth of a smoker.’
‘I’m doing everything that’s expected of me in the classroom,’ Nikki said. She made a mental note to cut short the storytelling session in favour of a grammar lesson in case Kulwinder did a spot check.
‘Let’s hope so,’ Kulwinder said. Nikki wedged past her uncomfortably on the stairs and found that all the women had arrived promptly. Tarampal had chosen a seat a noticeable distance from the others. ‘Nikki!’ Sheena called. ‘I’ve written a story. It’s a combined effort from all of us.’
‘Wonderful,’ Nikki said.
‘Can you read it aloud to the class?’ Preetam asked.
‘I think Nikki should read it,’ Sheena said.
‘In a minute,’ Nikki said. ‘I’ll just set some work for Bibi Tarampal here.’
‘Don’t bother with me,’ Tarampal sniffed. ‘I’ll just be working on my A-B-C book.’
‘For what?’ Arvinder asked. ‘Don’t be such a spoilsport.’
‘I’ll learn to write soon and you’ll still be illiterate,’ Tarampal shot back.
Nikki pulled up a chair next to Tarampal and searched for the page on linking vowels and consonants. There were pictures representing each simple three-letter word. CAT. DOG. POT. ‘I don’t know all of these letters,’ Tarampal complained. ‘You haven’t taught them all to me.’
‘Do the ones you know,’ Nikki said gently. ‘We’ll work on the others together.’
Nikki was aware that the women were watching her very closely as she began to read their story. Her Punjabi was rustier than she expected and Sheena’s rushed handwriting was unlike the careful print in the books she had learned from. ‘I’m not sure if I can read this, Sheena,’ Nikki said, squinting at the page.
Sheena shot up from her seat. ‘I’ll do it then.’ She took the papers from Nikki. The other women sat up in their seats, their faces wide with anticipation. Watching them, Nikki had the dreadful sense that somebody was out to play a joke on her.
Sheena began to read. ‘This is the story about a man and a woman taking a drive in a car. The man was tall and handsome and the woman was his wife. They didn’t have any children and had lots of free time.’ Sheena paused for effect and glanced at Nikki before continuing.
‘One day they were driving along a lonely road and they were running out of petrol. It was dark outside and they were scared. It was also cold, so the man stopped the car and hugged the woman so she would stop shivering. She was actually pretending to shiver. She wanted to feel the man’s body. Although she had felt his body many times before, she wanted to be with him in this dark car.
‘He began to feel quite like a hero because he was protecting his wife. He moved his hands down her back to her bottom and gave it a squeeze. She leaned closer to him and gave him a kiss. With her hands, she also moved down—’
‘Okay that’s enough,’ Nikki said. She took the story from Sheena and told her to have a seat. All of the women in the class were giggling except Tarampal, whose face was buried in her book. Nikki scanned the page. A sentence caught her eye: His throbbing organ was the colour and size of an aubergine, and as she gripped it with her hands and guided it towards her mouth, he became so excited that his knees began to shake. Nikki gasped and dropped the pages on the desk.
The women were laughing loudly now, and their voices had begun to echo down the corridor. They reached the doorway of Kulwinder Kaur, who turned to listen but the sounds just as quickly settled down.
‘What’s the matter?’ Sheena asked.
‘This is not the type of story I had in mind,’ Nikki said.
‘You can’t be too surprised. You read stories like this yourself,’ Manjeet said. ‘You bought us an entire book of them.’
‘I bought the book as a joke for my sister!’ That said, Red Velvet had graduated from the charity shop bag to Nikki’s bedside table, from where she had no intentions of removing it.