Chapters (41)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Nadim Rub’s Most Magnificent Deception
- The Alchemic Conception of
- The Puppy Love of Parvez Khan
- The Crushed Rose Petals of a
- The Relative Cost of Gold
- The Beginning of the Double Life
- The Triumphant Return of Ricky
- Of Sunflowers and Sunny Side Ups
- A Glorious Spring Wedding for
- The Importance of Not Forgetting to
- The Middle-Naming of
- The Married Life of Ricky Karim and
- The Musical Memories of Sharif Khan
- The Balti Ballads of Tooting Broadway
- Parvez Khan Mourns the Loss of Love
- Shona Khan Discovers Photos
- The Octopus in the Garage
- The Academic Pursuits of Omar Khan
- Between Greek Tragedy and
- The Balti Ballads Play Brick Lane
- The Trouble with December Evenings
- Châteauneuf du Pape in a
- Burnt Cookies and Driving Lessons
- Becoming Accustomed to a Face
- Ricky-Rashid Makes a Damning Discovery
- Shona Khan Makes a Damning Discovery
- Sharif Khan Meets an Angel in Tennis Shoes
- The Romantic Memories of Sharif Khan
- Omar Khan Celebrates May Day in Oxford
- Mrs Henna Karim Extends a
- The Dhaka Tea Party
- A Performance, a Bookmark and a
- Sharif Khan and the Terrifying Truth
- Won’t Let Us Have a Breakdown
- Confessions Across a Hospital Bed
- The Mother and Child Reunion
- Party in the Park
- Acknowledgements
- AN INTERVIEW
‘Puppy, if it doesn’t work this time, what are we going to do about the next stage?’ Shona asked delicately. She didn’t need to say any more; if simply stimulating Shona’s hitherto unproductive ovaries to ovulate didn’t succeed, the next stage of assisted conception had a long waiting list, and after that there were only procedures which would most likely have to be done privately.
Parvez sighed and pushed his eggs away. ‘I’ll sort out something for us. I might be able to get a loan.’ Shona didn’t say anything in reply. There was no way he would get a loan; he had already taken one out to buy a share in the restaurant business across the road from the sweet shop, and it was all he could manage to pay the interest and the rent and their meagre housekeeping. Seeing her face, Parvez got up and walked round to her side of the table, kneeling at her side, and stroked the wedding ring on her hand. ‘I promise, my Shundor Shona, that I’ll work something out. I’d sell my soul to make you happy.’
Shona smiled a small hard smile, unconvinced by his expansive offer. Parvez squeezed her hand and, to lighten the mood, started one of their little in-jokes, delivering a corny chat-up line that usually made her laugh.
‘Hey there, gorgeous, how do you like your eggs in the morning? Scrambled or Fried?’
‘Unfertilized,’ answered Shona automatically, although with little joy. She was already thinking how they might raise the money for private treatment and, not for the first time, she felt some resentment of their impoverished circumstances. She could perhaps sell her jewellery that had safely arrived from Bangladesh, but she didn’t know how much it was worth, and it was all she had to pass on to her children, if they ever had any. If she was still at home her father would have been able to pay for all her treatment - but he was no longer responsible for her, and that had been her choice, not his. Perhaps she could remake that choice and ask him to take care of her once more in this one sensitive matter.
Shona thought about alternatives, but all roads and possibilities led back to one incontrovertible truth - her father was the only one who both could and would lend her the money for treatment; he was the only one who could help. She decided to visit her father’s London apartment; she would go that very day.
