The Family Tree by Sairish Hussain

Author:Sairish Hussain [Hussain, Sairish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Six

A few days later, Amjad arrived home from work to find Ken’s upper body buried underneath the kitchen sink as Ammi chopped onions into a frying pan. The sound in the kitchen was deafening. Ken clinked and clanged his tools, his elbows and knees arranged at odd angles. The onions sizzled loudly suggesting Ammi had heated up the oil too much. The room was too small for the three of them to fit in there and Amjad felt claustrophobic immediately.

‘What the—’ he began, but Ammi noticed him and cut him off.

‘Bloody useless,’ she said, jabbing her knife towards him. A bit of onion was still stuck to it. ‘How many times have I told you to fix this?’

‘Oh, the leak,’ Amjad sighed.

Ken pulled himself out of the cupboard and grinned at Amjad as Ammi shouted at him in Urdu.

‘Yeah,’ Ken said, yelling over the sizzling onions and pointing the screwdriver at his friend. ‘What she said!’

‘And how did she tell you what needed to be done,’ Amjad asked, taking off his coat. ‘Or have you taught her how to speak English?’

‘Nah,’ Ken replied, standing up and moving his tools out of the way. ‘She just pointed to it and shouted, “Fix!”’

Amjad rolled his eyes. ‘Sounds about right.’

‘All done and dusted for you there, Ammi,’ Ken said, winking at Amjad.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Ammi replied in English. She turned to Amjad and switched back to Urdu: ‘Tell him to eat before he goes.’

Amjad relayed the message to a delighted Ken. He walked over to the cooker and rubbed his hands together.

‘What you got cooking there, Ammi?’

‘Paya.’

‘What?’

‘Feet,’ she said.

Ken turned to Amjad with a blank look. ‘Trotters?’ he asked. ‘Like pig’s trotters?’

Ammi’s smile vanished. She swelled in size. ‘Not pig!’

‘It’s sheep, I think,’ Amjad said, quickly.

‘Oh, I see. Lovely!’ Ken touched his belly. Ammi tutted and turned her attention back to the pan.

‘Let’s leave Ammi to it, eh?’ Amjad suggested. Ken nodded and they both hurried out of the kitchen. Amjad closed the door behind them. He sat down and quickly told Ken about the whisky nearly burning his throat the other night.

‘Did you drink it neat?’ Ken asked, stretching on the sofa.

‘Neat?’

‘You’re supposed to mix it with the ginger ale.’

‘You didn’t tell me that,’ Amjad snapped.

‘Yeah, I did. In fact…’

Ken stood up and went back into the kitchen. ‘I got you the bloody thing,’ he said, clutching the chilled bottle.

Amjad blinked. ‘I don’t remember.’

Ken frowned at him. ‘Well, not to worry. You know for next time,’ he said. ‘Did it put you to sleep?’

‘Maybe three hours in total. I drifted off downstairs and Zahra found me, she nearly saw the bottle. I’ve locked it away in my bedroom now.’

‘Oh no,’ Ken said, placing his hand on his forehead. ‘See, that’s why I wasn’t so sure about this—’

‘And I woke up with a banging headache—’

‘Don’t have any more—’

‘Shhh!’

Amjad lashed out and silenced his friend. They both listened as Zahra stomped down the stairs.

‘Hi, Uncle Ken,’ she said.

‘Hiya, love.’

She threw on her jacket and slipped on her shoes.

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