Page 72 of Knowing You
She sits on the bed.
‘Can you ever forgive me?’ I say. ‘Last night – Casey, Lenny, it’s made me realise – I’m so sorry if I’ve upset you.’
‘And I’m sorry for not realising just how hard it hit you – about Lenny and Beatrix. Whilst I was worried about this new regime of yours, I don’t think I fully understood just how much… how much you’ve been struggling.’
‘I’ve messed everything up,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t even know who I am anymore. I thought I was so empowered, taking charge of my life and turning it around, but now I’m not so sure.’
Farah takes my hand. ‘I’ve never talked to you much about my life before meeting Irfan.’
‘You grew up in Leicester, didn’t you?’
‘Yes – although, as you know, I was born in Pakistan. We moved here when I was six. I loved growing up in Leicester. It’s home to the widest number of religions of all the cities in this country. I really felt at one with the diversity. I got a job in a coffee shop in the sixth form and went clubbing with colleagues. My parents were great. They understood that I needed to embrace English culture in order to be happy and make friends. Yet I knew it was always part of their plan that one day I would have an arranged marriage. As I got older, we would have trips back to Pakistan. Very sociable ones where I met extended family and respected locals. My parents did their best to compromise and let me go to university. I moved back home for a while afterwards. My idea was to save and become financially independent.’
I nod.
‘I loved – do love – my parents very much and had managed to swerve the subject of an arranged marriage for years. However, the pressure really started when my older sister got married. Everyone kept saying I was next, but I wasn’t interested. At the same time I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. I saw the joy my sister’s union had brought them and they were so thrilled when the family of a successful businessman, Adeeb, showed an interest. I just couldn’t bear to let Mum and Dad down and somehow found myself pretending to go along with it.’
‘But you didn’t love him?’
‘No. He was a kind man, but not my type. He didn’t even read novels.’
We exchanged looks and both managed a smile. I took a mouthful of the strong tea.
‘The pretence started to take its toll – the weeks of acting as if I was this perfect daughter, happy to do things the traditional way. I’d stopped eating all the Western junk food and drinking alcohol. My dress style became more modest. I was only a size ten back then.’
Heat flushes into my cheeks. ‘Farah, I never meant—’
She pats my arm. ‘All I’m saying is, I modelled myself to be the perfect obedient, pretty-little-wife material. Over time, I became fond of the man Adeeb, but just as friends, and the deceit started to eat away at me even more. We didn’t meet often. He still lived in Pakistan, but when we did, I play-acted with him too. Things had gone so far I didn’t know how to call things off. I didn’t know how to tell him or my parents that I wanted a career and my own flat – that I wasn’t ready to settle down yet and when I did, that I wanted to choose my own partner. I just wanted to be myself.’
‘What happened?’
Farah smooths down the duvet. ‘I had a breakdown. Ended up in hospital. I didn’t know who I was anymore… just like you now. Mum and Dad were horrified.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m so lucky that all they wanted was for me to get better – even if that meant the marriage being called off. That was a massive thing for them and I’ll never forget it. And Adeeb was very understanding. I think he felt the same way too. He works in Dubai now and is married.’ She pauses. ‘The thing is, Violet – all the time I was pretending, I thought of myself as doing the right thing and being so strong and such the role model daughter. But I was living a lie. It nearly killed me.’
‘How come you’ve never talked about this before?’
‘Because it’s a part of my life I don’t care to remember. And it’s so long ago. I can’t relate to being that person anymore. These days, it sounds corny, but I just follow my heart. I eat too much. I’m not always smartly dressed. I enjoy a glass – or three – of wine. I have my own bank account. I’m not perfect, by any means, but my head’s straight because I’m being true to myself.’
She takes my tea and puts it on the table next to the digital clock. She leans forward and embraces me.
‘That’s all that matters, Violet, that your conscience is happy. It’ll tell you if it’s not. Anyone else’s opinion of what you should look like or how you should behave is irrelevant. That includes this Bella, even if she is trying to help. Perhaps if I met her and—’
I shake my head violently.
The doorbell rings. Farah backs off about meeting my friend and instead we chat about the party. Someone knocks at the door. Irfan.
‘Everything okay in here?’
Farah and I nod.
‘Violet, you’ve got a visitor. Apparently Lenny went to your flat to find her.’
2001
‘Violet, please don’t be scared, I’m here to help.’
I stop shouting and my breathing slows a little. At least the woman sounds friendlier than she looks. I clasp my hands together. Must be brave. Must be my own hero.
She loosens her collar. The uniform doesn’t look very comfortable. ‘In fact, we can take you home right now.’
