‘The Beatles,’ agrees Ibrahim. ‘My English was good; I had learned at school. I got along with my fellow students well enough, I liked to eat out in cafés, and sometimes I would go to hear jazz. If it was free.’
‘That sounds enjoyable,’ says Bob. ‘Might I help myself to a biscuit?’
‘Please,’ says Ibrahim, motioning to the plate. ‘One evening I met a man named Marius.’
‘I see,’ says Bob, through a chocolate digestive.
‘He liked jazz. Not as much as I liked jazz, but he was happy enough with it, and I met him in a pub just off the Cromwell Road. It was called the Cherries.’
‘Mmm hmm,’ says Bob.
‘It’s not there any more,’ says Ibrahim. ‘It’s a Tesco Metro now.’
‘Isn’t everything?’ says Bob.
‘I would always sit by myself,’ says Ibrahim. ‘I’d take the newspaper with me, although I would have read it already, but just so I felt less embarrassed to be on my own. And Marius was at the next table, also with the newspaper. Do you think we ought to think about heading over to Joyce’s?’
Bob looks at his watch. ‘We have plenty of time.’
Ibrahim nods. ‘Yes, I suppose so, Bob. He was German, Marius, I discovered. You wouldn’t know it, didn’t look it. Looked Finnish, if anything, and he said to me, his first words to me were “You have already read that newspaper, I think,” and my first words to him, “I’m afraid I don’t remember,” but he bought me a drink. I didn’t really drink back then, but I asked for a pint, because it’s nice to fit in, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ says Bob. ‘People like it when you fit in.’
‘It took me a long time to drink,’ says Ibrahim. ‘He drank very quickly. Or normally quickly, I suppose, just, you know.’
‘Just in comparison,’ says Bob.
‘Yes,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And we spoke, and he told me he was studying chemistry at Imperial College, that is also in London.’
‘I know it,’ says Bob, reaching down for another biscuit. ‘You can never have just one, can you?’
‘It is the combination of sugar and fat,’ says Ibrahim. ‘It drives us quite mad. The jazz band started to play then, they were a quartet, very gentle, but they knew their business, so I started listening, and Marius started listening, and before you knew it we were listening together.’
‘That sounds pleasant,’ says Bob.
‘It was very pleasant,’ says Ibrahim. ‘That’s the word. I don’t know that I had done anything
‘Did you have other plans?’
‘I never had other plans back then,’ says Ibrahim. ‘So I had spaghetti vongole, and Marius said he would have the same.’
‘And what happened next?’ asks Bob.
‘That’s a very good question,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Every story must have a “What happens next”. He walked me back home, we said goodnight, and he said that if it were of interest, he would be in the same pub at the same time the next week.’
‘And was it of interest?’
‘It was,’ says Ibrahim. ‘So I went back, still with a newspaper, you know, just in case?’
Bob nods. ‘Mmm.’
‘And this time I asked for a glass of wine,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Because I felt I could be honest. And it was the same quartet, and we went to the same restaurant, and we talked about Germany, and we talked about Egypt, and we talked about why we found ourselves so far from home, and I spoke a little about my father, which I hadn’t done before, and I haven’t done since, and, underneath the table, his hand found my hand. You had to be careful, of course.’
‘Of course,’ says Bob.
‘We moved in together, after a month or so, into a two-bedroom flat,’ says Ibrahim. ‘In Hammersmith. Do you know it?’
‘I know of it,’ says Bob.
‘And Marius got some work as a cycle courier for one of the newspapers, and I got some work in a shop selling umbrellas, just so we could afford it. And I continued my studies, and he continued his. He had a job waiting for him. Bayer – they were a chemical company, perhaps they still are. He was so strong and so vulnerable, and I became myself, which I hadn’t thought possible. And I talk a lot of nonsense about love sometimes, Bob, but we were in love. I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before.’
‘No,’ says Bob. ‘No.’
‘His course was about to come to an end,’ says Ibrahim, staring at the boat on the wall, ‘and his job would take him to Manchester. So a decision was going to have to be made. Make or break. I couldn’t quite see what the future might hold for us. It wasn’t like today. That’s not complaining – you are born when you are born. I looked into changing my course, to a university in the North, and I was told it wouldn’t be a problem. I had good grades. So I thought, you know?’
‘Give it a go,’ says Bob. ‘Hang the consequences.’
