they were about to start from their spheres.
“I promised to buy you a coffee,” he said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.
“A coffee!” squawked Manjit. “This young woman does not rate herself very highly if all she charged you —”
“Manjit!” shouted Jinnah. “For God’s sake! This is about work!”
“I don’t know about work,” returned Manjit. “But it certainly has to do with being on the job!”
“Hakeem,” said Crystal. “Hakeem, put Manjit on.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Trust me. I’ll tell her the truth.”
“Which version?” asked Jinnah quickly.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be in trouble anymore.”
I won’t be in trouble any less either, thought Jinnah, but shrugged and, with that sense of fatalism peculiar to those born under African skies, handed the phone to his wife.
“She wants to talk to you,” he said.
“Now I have to talk her down, hmm?” Manjit said, eyeing the phone suspiciously.
“Other way around, actually,” said Jinnah and made for the dining room.
“Where are you going? You’re not leaving!” shouted Manjit after him.
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he said, opening the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a triple scotch. “I’m merely having a small drink.”
“What are you doing that for?”
“To dull the pain of the knife,” muttered Jinnah and collapsed onto the couch.
Five minutes and four ounces of scotch later, Jinnah heard a sound emanating from the kitchen that made him jump. He listened for a few seconds and heard it again.
Name of God. His wife was laughing.
“Et tu, Manjit?” he groaned.
“Hakeem!” Manjit called brightly from the kitchen. “Crystal wants to talk to you.”
For a terrible instant, Jinnah thought perhaps the receptionist had told his wife the whole truth and Manjit was waiting for him behind the kitchen door with a knife. He stuck a hand timidly through the archway. For if thy left hand offend thee, then cut it off…. But nothing happened. He edged inside. Manjit was on the phone, moving around the kitchen, tidying things as she chatted, smiling. Oh God, what has she told her?
“Here you are,” said Manjit happily, handing him the receiver.
Jinnah looked at the thing with revolted fascination. His instincts were telling him to hang up now, he didn’t really want to hear whatever sordid news Crystal had for him. But, like Ahab, something pushed and dragged him on, he knew not what. He put the thing to his ear.
“If you want to inform me of my pending divorce or Bobitization, speak now.”
“Oh, Hakeem! You really don’t understand women, do you?” said Crystal.
“Madame, I hardly understand myself.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. We got you ‘sussed.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
“It’s what you want. I know what Grant’s writing for tomorrow’s paper.”
“Shabash, Crystal!” cried Jinnah. “What lies and half-truths has he managed to fabricate into a semblance of a story?”
There was a pause at the other end of the line.
“You’re not going to like it,” said Crystal finally.
“That, Madame, is a given. Tell me.”
“Okay. But don’t you want to know how I got it and why I’m telling you?”
“Again, I thought that was a given.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Grant told me.”
“Why would he tell you?”
“Honestly, Hakeem! I would have thought that was a given!”
“Of course. I apologize. And you’re defying Blacklock’s ban because?”
“Because right after he told me what he was writing, he tried to pick me up.”
“Has the man no shame!”
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