18

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

When I came back from the bathroom the following morning, I got the shock of my life. At first, I thought I had walked into the wrong cell by mistake. There were about ten people, sitting around a table, wearing those party hats that are made of coloured tissue paper. They all looked up at me when they heard the door open.

‘I’m so sorry. Perdón,’ I mumbled, backing out into the corridor.

‘¡FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!’ they shouted at the tops of their voices.

It was only then that I recognised Jack, sitting there with his dark sunglasses on. And there was Carlos, with his wife next to him. And Ricardo. And most incredibly, up the far end of the table, sat Sylvia Venables, my ‘angel’ from the Anglican Church. She smiled at me and blew on her plastic party whistle, the type with paper that unravels when you blow into it.

Without warning, Yasheeda sprang out from behind the door. ‘Surprise!’ she yelled, kissing me on the lips and pushing me into a chair. ‘You get to sit here at the head of the table, since you’re the guest of honour.’

On the table in front of me sat a massive birthday cake. It was my birthday! I had completely forgotten about it. My birthday had always been important to me on the outside, but the thought of celebrating it in prison that year had made me deliberately wipe it from memory. However, Yasheeda hadn’t forgotten. I couldn’t remember when I had told her.

‘I’m sorry, Tommy,’ she apologised, lighting the candles. ‘I didn’t know how many candles to buy. How old are you?’

I still hadn’t said a word. I was too stunned. I just sat there, looking around me.

In the time it had taken for me to walk down the stairs, take a shower and then return to my room, Yasheeda had completely transformed the entire space. She had put all my clothes away, made my bed, cleaned and tidied everything and moved all my furniture around to new positions. The bed was now up against the opposite wall, the table was in the centre of the room, the posters had been swapped over, and there were streamers and decorations dangling from the roof. It was no wonder I hadn’t recognised my own room.

On top of that, she had managed to have all my friends arrive without me so much as suspecting. She could hardly speak Spanish, so I don’t know how she had organised for the guests to be there exactly on time, or how she had known where to contact Sylvia. But she had.

‘So. Do you like it?’ Yasheeda asked, pointing at the new furniture arrangement. However, I still couldn’t answer. I was speechless. Luckily, Ricardo came to my rescue.

‘Well. Come on, Thomas. What do you think of your new décor?’ he demanded, doing his gay interior designer act again.

Everyone laughed, but my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t know what to say. No one had ever done anything like this for me before. Whenever I’d had a party on the outside, I’d had to buy the cake, invite the guests and do all the organising. But here I was, in a prison on the other side of the world where I barely knew anyone, the least likely place for anyone to celebrate my birthday, and Yasheeda had done all this for me.

‘Happy birthday, Tommy,’ she said when she had finished lighting all the candles, kissing me again.

‘But … but how did you know?’ I finally managed to stammer. No one in the prison knew.

‘Oh, come on! Where’s your memory gone, Mr Scorpio?’ she teased. Then I remembered the conversation we had had about star signs on the night we’d met. ‘That’s right. Now you remember?’ she said, seeing the recognition register in my eyes.

‘Now, blow out the candles and make a wish,’ urged Sylvia. ‘And don’t tell anyone, or it won’t come true.’

I did as I was told and made a wish. Then they made me cut the cake. When the knife came out with crumbs on it, I had to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. I stood up and went around to give Sylvia a big kiss. Her pale cheeks turned bright red. The other guests thought this was hilarious.

‘Stop it, Thomas,’ she protested. ‘Get your hands off me. I’m a religious woman and I’m old enough to be your mother. I don’t dare to think what you may have wished for when you cut that cake.’ Sylvia had a wicked sense of humour for someone who was the wife of an Anglican bishop.

We were all in high spirits after that, laughing and making jokes, but no one was higher than Jack, who I suspect was having an extra party of his own on the side. When I took the dirty plates back into the kitchen, he followed me. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he was too nervous.

‘Thomas. I … I just wanted to tell you that … well … you know what I wanted to tell you,’ he said, reaching into the secret pocket sewn into the lining of his jeans. ‘I got you a little present.’

‘Not here, Jack!’ I warned him, as he started opening up the small packet of cocaine.

‘No one will see us,’ he whispered. ‘Just a quick little puntito. It’s good stuff.’

‘Not while everyone’s still here. Try and be a bit considerate, Jack.’

Jack looked down, completely ashamed. ‘No. You’re completely right, Thomas. It’s very rude of me. I’m sorry. It was very selfish of me.’

‘That’s OK. You don’t have to apologise. I was mainly thinking of Sylvia.’

With that, Jack pricked up his ears. ‘I didn’t know Sylvia did coke!’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s probably enough for her, too. But only her. There’s not enough for everyone. So, we’ll have to do it carefully. Don’t tell Ricardo. You give Sylvia the signal and I’ll –’

‘Jack!’ I interrupted him.

‘Oh. I’m sorry. OK. Yes, you’re completely right. Sorry. I thought you meant …’

The party itself was a quiet affair. Because of Sylvia, we didn’t buy any alcohol. She was now like a mother to me, so I didn’t want her to think that I drank or did drugs in prison. Besides, we managed to have a lot of fun without drinking.

The guests departed just before lunchtime, and then everything went back to being really quiet. Jack stayed behind for a few minutes, wanting to do some coke, but I was already happy and didn’t want to risk ruining it. He told me I was an ungrateful friend and took back the present he’d given me. He even did a few lines in front of me to show me what I was missing out on. Eventually, he took the hint and left also, leaving Yasheeda and me alone in the room at last. We lay down on my bed.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t afford to get you a proper present, Tommy,’ she said. ‘I’m running out of money. I don’t know how I’m going to afford Peru. But did you like your party?’

I nodded and looked around the room again, noting with approval all the changes she had made. With only a minimum of effort, Yasheeda had succeeded in making the whole place feel new. Once more, I didn’t trust myself to speak. It was the best present anyone had ever given me.

Yasheeda didn’t need much sleep. From the moment she first opened her eyes in the morning, she was wide awake and full of energy. I, on the other hand, was always sleepy. Even when I didn’t drink or take coke, I liked to sleep in. The morning after my birthday was no exception. We had gone to bed early, but I was still tired and wanted to catch up on some rest. However, she wouldn’t let me.

‘Tommy. Are you awake?’ she asked, leaning across my body in order to light the candle. I never let her turn the lights on or open the window until I was ready.

‘Mmmmm. I wasn’t. But I am now.’

‘Well. Come on then. Tell me!’

‘Tell you what?’ I was still half asleep.

‘What you wished for.’ It was way too early to play her guessing games, but that was another of her tricks; she would sometimes wake me up by asking me lots of questions that I had to think about.

‘What I wished for when?’

‘When you blew out the candles.’ She was always doing that. Her mind went all over the place and often she’d come out with something that she was thinking about, assuming that I would automatically know what it was. Or she would suddenly decide to continue on from the middle of a conversation we’d had hours, or even days, before, but hadn’t mentioned since.

‘I can’t tell you. Remember? Or it won’t come true.’ She had succeeded – I was awake now.

‘That’s OK. You don’t have to tell me, Tommy. I already know anyway.’ Now that she had my eyes open, Yasheeda clambered on top of me, kissing my ears playfully.

‘All right. What was it, then?’

‘To get out of prison.’

‘No. Wrong.’

‘Yes. Right. Don’t lie to me, mister.’ She slapped me lightly across the face, pretending to be angry. ‘What else could you possibly want more?’

‘No. Wrong.’ I grabbed her wrist to stop her hitting me again and rubbed my cheek where she had slapped me, pretending it was sore.

‘Yes! Right. Of course, I’m right. I know you, Tommy. That’s what you would have wished for. And I can tell when you’re lying, too,’ she reprimanded me, shaking her finger in my face. ‘So, don’t even try it.’

Yasheeda could often guess what I was thinking, but on that occasion she was wrong. However, I couldn’t tell her the truth. My wish hadn’t been to be released from prison – I had wished for the first thing that had come into my mind and it was something I wanted even more than being allowed to go free. I had wished that she would stay with me forever. I didn’t care where we were. Even if it meant being in prison, I just wanted her to be there next to me.

I couldn’t say anything, though; in three days, she was leaving for Peru with Sharon. Seeing Machu Picchu and doing the Inca trail had been the whole reason behind them choosing South America. They’d had the trip planned for months and she couldn’t break her promise.

‘How long will you be gone?’

‘I don’t know, exactly. Maybe a month or two,’ she answered, cautiously. Then, sensing my reaction, she added, ‘But don’t worry. I’ll come back for you, Tommy.’

‘Do you promise?’

‘Of course, I promise. I came back last time, didn’t I?’