The Nothing by Hanif Kureishi

Author:Hanif Kureishi [Kureishi, Hanif]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571332038
Publisher: Faber and Faber
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

I have a cold and am draped in several blankets like a broken sofa. But at least Anita has got back to me.

She brings news of the fabulous fabulist. We must talk. She is coming straight over. She has organised a picnic. A driver will take us to the Serpentine, which was one of my favourite places to loaf and goof as a young man.

It is a lovely day, and the park is crowded. The lake shimmers. I like to see people cycling, roller-skating, lying in the sun. This is London: peaceful, pleasure-loving. I enjoy her pushing me. The water calms me. Anita wears cropped jeans with gold sandals, a white T-shirt, big sunglasses and a hat. Still she is recognised and never fails to smile gratefully and keep her head down.

I’m hoping for a last outing in a pedalo.

She finds us a pool of shadow and we sit together eating smoked salmon sandwiches and drinking champagne.

‘Sorry it took so long.’ She’s serious and concentrating. ‘There was a lot. I was surprised.’

‘You believe me now?’

‘My boys and their slaves were busy. You’ve got it going on, Waldo. I was waiting to see what we had. If it was real.’

I turn to her as much as I can. I catch a glimpse of her face. The truth is not deep. It is not even hidden. It is just unbearable. ‘One must dare all things with women,’ Stendhal advises. I’ve long known Eddie was capable of taking liberties. It is in his nature, as a dog must piss against trees.

‘Anita, push me into the water. Watch me go down and hold my head under if I kick. I don’t want to hear more. I love Zee. I can’t help it. She’s a little naive and I’m not sure I can protect her from this man. Or if she wants me to.’

I explain that there are, as I’ve gathered from the diary, at least two other women at the moment, along with several from the past who still take an interest in him. I find ten women’s names under his ‘keep in touch’ list. Love is consuming work. Eddie is generous with his time. He gives the women a lot of himself. No wonder he never finished or indeed started his ‘definitive’ history of British post-war cinema, not something which would take anyone more than a weekend to knock out.

I inform Anita of this. She nods, impressed. Now it is her turn. On her side, as she says, her people have been busy and thorough, and she has a clipboard. There are several pages. With photographs.

She begins. ‘You confirm our work. The most significant is a widow called Patricia Howard. She has had a mastectomy and been alone for five years. She’s keen to be loved. She is hot and wealthy, but has three grownup children who are suspicious of Eddie and protective of their mother.

‘He’s persistent, as you know. He keeps it going, talks to her every day and sits through Wagner for her.

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