Read Online Another Country by Anjali Joseph - Free Book Online

greyness. She sat on the bag. An elderly man in a long collarless coat passed, seemingly raising an eyebrow; his white geometric beard turned away from her. She saw the hem of his kurta emerge from his coat, and felt embarrassed. Another pair of younger, bearded men. Leela looked away.

    â€˜Ah!’ Amy’s cry was all of pleasure; it was nonetheless formidable. Leela allowed herself to be swept into a hug, then led to the door.
    â€˜Oh no, oh no,’ Amy murmured as she attacked the door and rummaged in her bag. ‘Aaah. Thought I’d lost the keys again.’
    They went in, Leela behind her friend, a flurry of voice and red hair, and then the house, surprisingly modern: steel and leather furniture, expensive sofas.
    â€˜It’s very plush,’ Leela said.
    â€˜Uh, well, I think it’s a bit fucking expensive. I’d rather live somewhere grottier and cheaper, but the boys found it.’
    â€˜Well, at least it’s nice.’
    â€˜Let’s get a cup of tea. I told them I was sick at work, to get out in time for you, and now I think I actually am feeling sick.’
    â€˜Oh no!’
    â€˜Boring, boring,’ agreed Amy viciously, whacking tea bags into not very clean mugs. ‘It’s disgusting here, disgusting. No one’s washed up in weeks. We’re paying a cleaner a hundred quid to come round and sort it out. I’d do it myself for that much money but I can’t suggest that.’
    They took their mugs up the stairs, into a room that was warm and furnished with all the items Leela recognised as characteristic of her friend: a thick duvet, crumpled into a strange shape; clothes on the floor; black shoes of two types, either high-heeled and intimidating, or flat and mannish, all scuffed and tossed on the ground.
    Amy stooped, dived into a pile of laundry, emerged with something frilled and pink and used it to tie up her hair: a pair of knickers. ‘They’re clean,’ she said.
    Leela grinned. ‘I’ve got a present for you in my bag.’
    â€˜Oh, lovely! I don’t have your Christmas present yet, but I’m doing my shopping at home.’
    They were spending Christmas at Amy’s parents’. Leela looked forward to it: as much to the warmth and adult conversation, the sense of an ordered world, as to the comfort.
    â€˜I’m feeling really sick, Leela,’ said Amy pathetically.
    â€˜Get into bed,’ she suggested. Amy climbed under the duvet.
    â€˜I’ll get you some aspirin,’ Leela said.
    â€˜Think I just need to sleep,’ she said, rolling herself in the covers. ‘Talk to me for a bit.’
    Leela sat on the other side of the bed, hugging her knees, and they began a conversation; Amy fell asleep within minutes. The room filled with her smell: a mix of musk, tea, and yoghurt.
    Leela went downstairs, feeling she was on a stage set, waiting to be found. The others knew she would be there, but only for a couple of days before she and Amy went away.
    She opened her book, Moon Park . She was reading about cunnilingus in a lift when the door opened, introducing a man in a brown suit and loafers, James, and a blast of cold air.
    â€˜Hi Leela,’ James said. He gave her a big grin. They hugged. ‘How was your trip? Did you get in today?’
    â€˜In the afternoon.’
    â€˜Is Amy here?’ James was getting a pouch of tobacco out of his jacket pocket. He put down a leather briefcase, sat in an armchair near Leela, and began to talk, rolling a cigarette. Tobacco fell on his corduroy suit. He worked in art publishing. How grown up everyone had become.
    â€˜How’s work?’ Leela asked.
    James lit the cigarette. Smoke filtered into his blondish hair. ‘Huh?’ he said.
    â€˜How’s work?’
    â€˜It’s all right.’ He grinned, showing yellow teeth. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’ He sighed, shoved his hand in his hair, smoked again.