Mary had a cut on her thumb from a tin of corned beef. Mary had seen the Nyantakyis next door take delivery of a trampoline for their garden because their grandson was coming over from the US and would love it. Mary had held Driver’s filthy tools while he fixed the Mercedes; Cynthia had been scared of spoiling her smock. Mary was annoyed that Afua was able to do the splits, but she could not. Mary had watched Carpenter kill and cook a whole goat to celebrate the birth of his first son. With her spine resting against the wall, Belinda sat cross-legged on the landing, listening, her nose twitching at Doctor Otuo’s sugary aftershave that remained in the air even though he had left for his Saturday stroll hours ago. In her hand, she held a small sheet of paper softened with sweat. On it, to help control her thinking: a list of safe and interesting topics to talk about. Belinda’s eye drifted near ‘– Victoria Line & the Tube in general – Tattoos’ when Mary coughed wetly and gulped for air.
‘Adjei! Nasty!’
‘Eh? Mary? Mary?’
‘Me ba, me ba.’ Mary’s breath strained and her receiver clapped against something.
Unsure what to do with the silence fizzing down the line, Belinda dropped the paper and rubbed the yellow patches on the sandblasted jeans Nana called trendy. Her palms became painful so it was good that Mary soon came back sounding steadier. Belinda felt confident that the rubbing could stop.
‘Thanking you for the patience, sister. Sorry,’ Mary giggled. ‘I am too too accident prone. Is as the rhyme goes.’
‘Rhyme?’
‘I swallow a fly. I’m not an old lady but the rest is the same. I swallowed a fly.’
‘Oh.’
‘I don’t care. I’m fine now. And – don’t tell – but I had some of their water with the bubbles in it to get the insect down? I don’t see why our Madam and Master fuss for that water so. We have to drag crates of it from the A-Life! supermarket shop and they do a “mmmm” noise like is golden or like they are on a advert whenever they drink. Why? It tastes same as a normal water to me. Maybe even a little bitter. Perhaps is only poor children like us who enjoy sweets as much as we do.’
‘You shouldn’t steal their belongings, Mary.’
‘What steal? The sparkling water was the nearest one to hand. And it’s an emergency, not so? I could have choked to death but now I am saved, all praise and thanks to their San Pellegrinos. Halle, halle, hallelujah. I bet they will get an extra reward in heaven for it. They should even come to thank me.’
Quick feet moved below. Through the banister’s spindles Belinda saw Amma coming up, holding her 3310 like it was too precious, the loose bun on her head wiggling, whistling the ‘freak-on’ song from the party in a bouncy way. When Amma reached the landing, the whistling stopped. Her dark forehead, spotty at the hairline, squashed itself at the sight of sitting Belinda. Then Amma smiled, saluted and put the Nokia away before walking off to her bedroom. Belinda’s shoulders jerked.
‘I don’t mind,’ Mary said.
‘What?’
‘If you want to do like this? I will even be happy to stay here quiet with you like this, with no words and hear you only breathing. You breathe quite heavy, actually. I bet some people will find it a bit disgusting but I quite like it. Is normal to me.’
‘I got distracted by something, that’s all. Pardon. I’m here now.’
‘Your mind always drifting to some other place.’
‘It isn’t.’ Belinda pulled at the split bits of her thumbnails. ‘Is it?’
‘Of course. I. I thought you will stop now that you are there. Because, because when you did it here in Daban, when you have these small moments with the face still like the world has stopped, I sometimes thought in my head she is imagining a beautiful place for herself. Daydreaming. I wanted sometimes to ask you what you thinking on but I felt a bit shy to. Even though I know you cannot believe that shyness of me. Seems to me like you still doing it, this daydreaming or whatever. Like, like your London is not even enough.’
Belinda stroked one of the spindles, following its ladylike dips. She thought about her new room. She really liked her marble mantelpiece. It had the same olden days feel about it as the spindles in front of her and the lampposts out on the street. She carefully wiped the mantel’s grey swirls with Cif twice a day and, like an altar, put special things on it. At the end closest to her wardrobe a Hello Kitty pencil case sat, bursting with more felt-tips and rubbers than she had seen in her life; next to that her passport. Also, Penguin copies of Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest and Lord of the Flies for Abacus. A Lambeth Borough Library Card that Mrs Al-Kawthari had helped her apply for. Things Fall Apart and White Teeth for fun. To the left of those, the Coca-Cola money box for change from her pocket money. Then a letter about a class trip to the British Museum. And her keys with the peg doll key ring Amma didn’t want but that Belinda thought was so beautiful: a little Chinese lady with pink blossom trailing down her thin wooden back.
‘No. I will like to stay here for a long time. I think. As long as I can. To get myself a future security. One day I will come home. Maybe come for you, take you to some different places, show you some new things.’
‘Little me? You will return to collect Miss Mary for adventures? I don’t believe in it.’
‘I would do it. I would, whyever not? And also I would like to do something good and big in the place where we are from. Something important. Charity or a school perhaps. Something to help. I’m not clear on, like, like, what it will be. But I will like to … to try.’ Belinda smiled to herself, remembering Amma at Lavender’s. She shook her head. ‘I suppose that doesn’t even make much sense anyway.’
Mary’s voice was stern and careful. ‘In a fact, I think it is a great and good answer.’
‘Oh. Oh. Thank you.’ Belinda shifted her weight on the carpet, its rough weave digging at her bottom. For a second Belinda wondered if such dreams were useless; how many days until the inevitable, when Amma let slip and it was over? Her next, tired sigh rippled like one that comes before crying. But then Mary started up about the long lack of a replacement housegirl and did an impression of Aunty and Uncle moaning that none met the standard Belinda set. The crumpled list stayed by Belinda’s knee, untouched, as Mary kept on and on and on, speaking as if to please only herself, as if no one would be able to stop her, laughing at her own jokes and answering her own questions. So Belinda went back to humming agreement sometimes, tutting disapproval at others, offering suggestions soon batted off. And as Belinda listened, spoke, listened, she saw that she gripped the banister’s spindle like she had held up her shoe at Monique; tight and certain.