EPISODE ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY
Numb with shock, Pran
sat on his sofa, staring into space. He
remained immobile for a good hour, his thoughts swirling like garbage in a
gale. His radio was playing the Pop
Master quiz, hosted by Ken Bruce, but Pran was unaware of anything other than
his own suffering. The doorbell
rang. Wondering who it might be, but
also relieved that it was a diversion from his depression, he struggled to
stand up, switched off the radio, then went out into the hall and opened the
front door.
Her smile greeted him, and her hand came out from behind her back, waving a
bottle of champagne in his face.
‘Celebration time, kiddo! We made
it. And it was all down to your
appearance at the tribunal. I think your
evidence swung it in my favour, Pran.’
‘Hi, Tina,’ said Pran, his voice heavy with gloom.
Tina looked concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’
Pran shook his head, unable to answer her immediately. ‘You’d better come in.’
She followed him into his cramped living room, sank into an easy chair, and
watched as he dropped back onto the sofa, her brow furrowed with concern for
her new-found friend. She waited,
knowing he would tell her as soon as he was ready. His eyes were glassy and he stared at the
floor. Eventually, he looked up, his
expression lost, like a small boy appealing for help.
‘I don’t expect you’ve seen the Daily
Mail.’
Tina shook her head.
‘They did a full page on the tribunal. A
big splash. I suppose that’s because it
was such a big payout. A record payout,
they said.’
Tina stretched forward in her chair.
‘And you can go down the same route, Pran. It’s not too late. I’ll back you up. You said so yourself. You can take them to the cleaners. It’ll give you a fresh start.’
Shaking his head gravely, Pran said, ‘No money’s worth what I’ve had to go
through. My father buys the Daily Mail. He read about me being gay. He doesn’t want to see me again. Ever.
I’m no longer his son, he said.’
Tears suddenly ran down Tina’s cheeks.
‘Oh, Pran.’
‘He telephoned,’ Pran went on. ‘He was
ranting and shouting. I can’t believe
the terrible things he said to me. I
hung up. I couldn’t take it.’
‘Oh, Pran,’ Tina sobbed. ‘I’m
sorry. So sorry. If I’d known, I...Oh, God! I feel terrible. I should never have dragged you into
this. Never.’
‘It’s not your fault, Tina. I had to do
it. If my father has a problem with my
sexuality, then...Well, it’s time I stopped blaming myself.’
Tina rummaged through her handbag, blew her nose in a tissue and wiped her
eyes, smearing her eye make-up. ‘I can’t believe it. Your own father. Perhaps if he’s given enough time, he might
eventually come to accept it. Maybe it’s
just the initial shock of finding out the way he did. I mean, in this day and age, surely...’
Pran broke in. ‘Maybe. Who knows? But my father’s living in another, more
traditional age.’
Tina tried to stop further tears bursting to the surface but failed. ‘I’m so sorry, Pran. So very, very sorry.’
*
As soon as Ted came home from work he heard Tracey bawling. He dashed upstairs and into her room. Marjorie was leaning over the cot.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘She’s got colic.’
‘Oh my God! What’s that?’
‘Griping stomach pains. According to
Freda, her Kevin had it really bad when he was a baby.’
Marjorie picked up the screaming, red-faced bundle from the cot and thrust her
at Ted. ‘Here! See what you can do. I’ve tried everything. She’s driven me mad.’
Ted held the baby against his shoulder and rubbed her back but she continued to
scream in his ear. ‘It’s all right,’ he
crooned softly. ‘Daddy’s here, Miranda.’
Marjorie’s sharp ears picked up on the name.
‘What was that?’
Ted winced. It had slipped out without
thinking. He put on a dense expression,
something at which he was quite accomplished.
‘What?’
‘What you called her?’
‘I’ve no idea. I must have been thinking
of someone else.’
Marjorie scratched her chin thoughtfully and suspiciously. ‘Miranda you said. Who do you know who’s called Miranda?’
‘Nobody!’ Ted yelled above the baby’s cries.
‘I don’t know anyone called Miranda.’
‘You must do. Else you wouldn’t have
called her it.’
Becoming thoroughly exasperated, Ted bounced the baby up and down. ‘Oh, can’t you do anything to stop her?’ he
pleaded to his wife, who was stony faced.
‘I want to know who this Miranda is.’
‘Oh, she’s just a character in a Shakespeare play. The Tempest.’
Marjorie over-reacted, as if Ted had just told her that Miranda was someone
with whom he was having a wild affair.
‘Stupid bloody name!’ she screamed. ‘I
won’t have you calling her after some little tart in a Shakespeare play.’
Ted was nonplussed. ‘I only...’ he
began.
‘Her name’s Tracey!’ Marjorie
shouted. ‘Tracey!’
‘Yes! All right! I just thought she might like a middle name,
so that she can choose for herself when she’s older.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake take her out for a walk.
I can’t stand that screaming no more.’
Ted looked confused. ‘A walk?’
‘Yes! A bloody long walk. The movement of the pram’ll soothe her. Calm her down.’
‘How d’you know?’
‘Freda told me.’
‘Oh,’ said Ted, taking the screaming bundle towards the door. ‘Freda.
If that’s not a stupid bloody name, I don’t know what is.’
‘What was that?’ snapped Marjorie.
‘Nothing. I’ll see you later.’
*
When the doorbell rang again, Pran looked across at Tina and frowned. ‘I’ve no idea who that could be.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘Maybe it’s one of my father’s Muslim
hit-men. He’s probably got a gay-bashing
contract out on me.’
Tina shuddered. ‘Oh, don’t joke about a
thing like that. Answer the door.’
She waited while he went out to the hall, holding her breath as she listened to
the door being opened.
‘Alan! What are you doing here?’
Tina registered the way Pran’s voice had leapt energetically.
‘I thought I’d look you up. I was just
passing in the old neighbourhood.’
‘You’d better come in.’
Alan entered the living room. Tina
smiled and nodded at him, especially as he looked so taken aback at finding
Pran with a girl.
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you had company,’ he began.
Pran gestured towards her. ‘This is
Tina. Alan.’
As they shook hands, Pran added, ‘Alan’s my old flatmate.’ Then laughed foolishly. ‘Er – partner,
actually.’
Sensing that Pran wanted to be alone with his ex-partner, she stood up. ‘Well, I must be off. Good to meet you, Alan.’
‘You don’t have to dash off on my account,’ he said.
‘No, I’ve got to get back to London. I said I’d meet my boyfriend.’
‘Congratulations on winning the case.’
‘Yeah, it’s been a long hard struggle.
But thanks to Pran here.’ She
looked at her friend and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks again, Pran.’
As soon as Pran had seen her out, and returned to the living room, they both
stared at each other in silence for a while.
‘So how’ve you been?’ Pran asked, after inwardly analysing the silence, and
realising they were both comfortable with it.
‘Oh – not so bad. I read about the
tribunal. I thought you might need some
moral support.’
‘You’re right, as it happens. My father
knows about it. And he confirmed my
worst fears. Goodbye family.’
‘Sorry, Pran. It was brave of you. To do what you did. It really was.’
‘Either that, or foolhardy. So how’s
life with...?’
‘Vance?’
‘Vance!’
Alan grinned. ‘He was American. And he wanted me to go back and live with him
in the States. But I couldn’t. So we
decided to split up.’
Pran frowned thoughtfully. ‘When was
this?’
‘About two months ago.’
‘You mean you’ve been on your own that long?
Why didn’t you get in touch?’
‘Kept meaning to. Then, when I read
about the tribunal, I guessed you’d need someone who once meant as much to you
as family.’
Pran felt a warm shower washing away his depression. He grinned hugely at Alan. ‘You guessed right.’
‘So how about coming out with me for dinner tonight?’
‘Try and stop me,’ Pran said, his eyes suddenly alive and optimistic. ‘And I promise I’ll watch the intake of
wine.’ He giggled. ‘A gay Muslim who
drinks alcohol. I must remember to do
the lottery this week.’
Alan laughed. He had been dreading this
meeting. But now he was confronting his
old partner, and saw how he had missed his sense of humour, he suddenly wept
tears of relief.
Pran threw his arms around his ex partner, saying, ‘It’s okay, Alan. It’s going to be okay. I know it is.’
IN EPISODE 121
Mary reveals to Dave the circumstances of her father’s death.