No Sex in the City

  ‘Just a few details,’ she explains, probably not wanting Lisa to feel excluded.

  Nirvana and Lisa gape at me.

  ‘It’s true,’ I say, my voice tight. ‘I’m an official sexual harassment statistic.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Lisa reprimands me.

  I fiddle with the sugar sachets on the table and start to tell them the whole story, minus the dilemma of staying on because of Dad’s debt. It’s in situations like these that you realise how unreliable language can be. As I speak I realise that all the words in my vocabulary still can’t begin to convey my feelings over the course of the last year. Words will only get me so far. The girls’ capacity to empathise will take me a little further. But there’s still a gap filled with a complexity and incongruity of emotions that I can’t verbalise. How do I articulate that I’ve felt both confused and flattered? Ashamed and sexually empowered? Enraged and self-pitying?

  And looming over all of this is that my experience makes no sense without the context of the debt. Just as I expected, they’re incredulous as to why I’ve stayed on this long.

  I can’t betray my father, though, even to my best friends. It’s not that they would judge him. It’s just that it would be like stripping him naked when he’s trying so desperately to remain clothed. A tear rolls down my face.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve been going through this alone,’ Nirvana says, a bewildered expression on her face. ‘You should have told us. You’ve been there for us. We should have been there for you. You should have let us be there for you.’

  Ruby looks devastated. ‘Here we are venting about our problems and you’ve been going through this by yourself.’ She suddenly hits me. ‘You idiot, what were you thinking, not telling us?’

  I wipe my nose. ‘I didn’t want to tell you guys because I was too ashamed.’

  ‘Esma!’ Lisa scolds.

  Ruby folds her arms and huffs indignantly. ‘I can’t believe you would put this back on yourself!’ She hits me again.

  ‘Ouch!’ I rub my arm. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, will you?’

  Then Nirvana and Lisa start hitting me and we all succumb to giggles.

  ‘I know it’s ridiculous,’ I say eventually. ‘I know it’s his fault and I have nothing to be ashamed of. But sometimes I felt that I might have let the lines blur ... or that I didn’t speak out soon enough. And I know that blaming the victim is wrong, but I find it so demeaning to even be the victim.’

  Lisa frowns. ‘If you start to doubt yourself, he wins. The fact is that you should never be in a situation where you have to remind a colleague, let alone your boss, what behaviour is acceptable and what isn’t. If you’re put in that situation, then they’ve already crossed the line.’

  ‘Threaten to sue him,’ Ruby says angrily. ‘I’ll help you draft a letter of demand, and if he doesn’t settle we’ll take it all the way. And start looking for another job in the meantime.’

  The beginning of a hopeful smile stirs the corners of my mouth. ‘I’ve already started sending out applications.’

  ‘Good,’ Ruby declares. ‘But we’re going after him too. You’re not leaving without compensation.’

  ‘You could easily find something just as good,’ Lisa says, her voice soothing. ‘I’ve seen enough people who have been harassed and bullied to know it can turn you into an emotional wreck. Don’t let it get to that point, Esma.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’m dealing with it. Trying to work out what I’m going to do.’

  ‘If it’s this bad,’ Nirvana says, ‘and you’re going to work feeling sick every morning, shouldn’t you just quit?’

  ‘I ... I can’t quit ... I’ve got a big personal loan ...’

  ‘No, don’t quit yet!’ Ruby cries, her eyes flashing. ‘You shouldn’t be a cent out of pocket. Wait until we give him the letter of demand.’ Her thoughts wander for a second. ‘What loan have you got?’ she asks. ‘Your car’s a shit-bomb.’

  ‘Um ...’ I search for a plausible answer. ‘I helped my parents out with the renovations.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ She accepts my answer and we’re soon sidetracked when the waiter interrupts to take our order. After we order I can sense Lisa quietly observing me and when I catch her eye she offers me a reassuring and gentle smile. Nirvana, the most tactile in the group, offers solidarity by squeezing my hand. Ruby is on her phone, looking up fact sheets on sexual harassment laws, letting out the occasional ‘uh-huh’ and ‘hmm’ as she reads.

  I put my face in my hands. ‘I hate all this sympathy and pity.’

  Ruby has two words for me: ‘Shut up.’

  Then Nirvana’s phone begins to vibrate on the table. Anil’s name flashes on the screen and Nirvana winces.

  ‘I think the moment of truth is approaching. He was going to talk to his mum.’

  We mouth ‘Good luck’ as she takes the call. The music is too loud and she’s struggling to hear Anil. She walks around the corner and doesn’t return for another fifteen minutes. When she does, and we see her face, we panic.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Anil’s sister is in hospital. Suicide attempt. She overdosed.’

  Lisa jumps up. ‘Oh my God! Is she okay?’

  ‘Yes ... She’s under observation now. They managed to pump the pills out ...’ Nirvana falls into her seat and Lisa sits back down, a stunned expression on her face.

  ‘Sunil came home and found her unconscious,’ Nirvana explains. ‘She left a note.’

  ‘What did the note say?’ Lisa asks grimly. I look at her weirdly, not quite understanding the intensity of her reaction. Her stricken face is so pale it’s almost translucent. Her blue eyes are dilated and gripped with fear. We’re all shocked by the news, but Lisa seems to be taking it very hard.

  ‘I don’t know every detail, but Anil said that the letter explained that she had an abortion last month. She was three months pregnant. Nobody knew. I had no idea. It’s so hard to believe.’

  ‘Why did she have an abortion?’ Ruby asks.

  ‘The letter didn’t say but they’ve spoken to her now. Apparently she didn’t want to bring a baby into a marriage she wanted to leave.’

  ‘Did Sunil know she was pregnant?’ I ask.

  She shakes her head. ‘Anil says he had no idea. Nobody knew. She just went off to a clinic for advice. But then Sunil came home just a couple of days after the abortion. He had a job offer. Suddenly, he was sorry. He was going to quit drinking. He swore he’ d make it up to her.’

  ‘And she believed him?’ Ruby and I both say. We’re unabashedly cynical.

  ‘Well, apparently she was willing to forgive him. But then she felt so guilty about the abortion, especially when he started talking about trying to have a child. Her letter says she couldn’t live with herself.’

  Lisa whimpers and puts her head in her hands. ‘Oh my God,’ she says.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.

  She doesn’t respond for some moments. Finally she calms down and turns to face Nirvana. ‘I have something to tell you.’

  Nirvana’s eyes search Lisa’s. ‘What?’

  ‘Neela came to me for help. She didn’t know where to turn, and after we met at the birthday party and she found out what I do, she contacted me. She wanted to know her options. She was adamant that the baby had to go. She’ d fallen pregnant by accident. She was sick of Sunil’s moods, his nastiness, his drinking. She said she’ d had enough and was going to leave him.’

  My head begins to hurt. I steal a glance at Ruby, who’s frowning, absorbing what Lisa’s saying. Nirvana is still and dangerously silent.

  ‘She didn’t want to bring a child into an unhappy marriage,’ Lisa continues. ‘She wanted to know what her options were. I explained that I couldn’t advise her because of our friendship, but I gave her the names of some abortion clinics and women’s counselling services.’

  Nirvana finally speaks. ‘How could you?’ she hisses.

  ‘How could I what?’ r />
  ‘She had an abortion because of you!’

  Lisa’s face contracts. ‘Are you kidding me, Nirvana?’

  ‘Oh come on, Nirvana,’ Ruby scolds. ‘That’s unfair.’

  ‘No, it’s not!’

  ‘Nirvana,’ I say, ‘it’s pretty clear Lisa went out of her way not to advise Neela either way. She just referred her.’

  ‘Isn’t it her choice anyway?’ Lisa snaps. ‘I wasn’t there to persuade her either way. I was just sending her in the direction of people who could offer her advice on her options. That was where it ended. I didn’t advise her or see her afterwards. She messaged me the day before she was booked for the procedure to tell me about her decision. That’s all.’

  ‘That’s fair enough,’ I say, naively thinking Nirvana will agree.

  ‘You kept it from me!’

  ‘Nirvana, please,’ Lisa pleads. ‘It was her choice. I didn’t interfere and I didn’t allow the lines to blur. I referred her and that was it.’

  ‘You could have told me.’

  Ruby speaks before Lisa has a chance to defend herself. ‘Nirvana, if it’s over between you and Anil, what difference does it make anyway?’

  ‘That’s cruel, Ruby,’ Nirvana says quietly. Then, her voice rising, she says, ‘I was still engaged when all of this happened. This is about Lisa knowing something I had the right to know. This was the family I was marrying into!’

  ‘But I would have been breaching Neela’s confidence,’ Lisa argues. ‘And I would have put you in a difficult situation too. If I’d told you not to mention anything to Anil, you’ d have had to lie to him. I couldn’t ask you to do that. And if you had told him, I’d have been responsible for what would have happened between Neela and her family. I’m a counsellor, Nirvana. It’s my job to keep confidences. That’s what I do and I won’t make exceptions, no matter how much I love you as a friend.’

  ‘This was different! All those times I told you guys about her and Sunil, you knew what was going on. You could have hinted. Some small warning.’

  ‘Hinted?’ Lisa explodes. ‘Hinted that Neela was pregnant? Or that she was going to leave Sunil? Or that she wanted an abortion but was terrified of how her family would respond? That she couldn’t turn to her brother because she was scared he would judge her? You heard him the other week at Bondi. He was unsympathetic to women who knowingly have a child with a violent partner. He seemed to be saying they should accept the situation for the child’s sake. And Sunil was never violent towards Neela. So if Anil thinks you should grin and bear physical abuse for the sake of the kids, can you imagine how he’ d view Neela for wanting to leave because of Sunil’s emotional abuse? I bet that wouldn’t even count as a legitimate complaint to Anil. Neela was convinced he’ d advise her to keep the baby and stay with Sunil. Tell me, Nirvana, apart from my professional integrity, how could I tell you that your fiancé, the guy you were madly in love with, would rather save face than see his sister happy?’

  Nirvana sucks in a deep breath. ‘You’re wrong,’ she whispers. ‘He told me himself that he couldn’t stand Sunil and wished she’ d just leave him before they had a child.’

  Ruby clears her throat.

  ‘Well, there you go,’ Lisa says coolly. ‘You said it, not me. Before they had a child. A child came into the picture, Nirvana, and Neela knew that her family wouldn’t support her decision to leave after she and Sunil had a child.’

  ‘That’s not their decision to make,’ I say.

  ‘I need to leave.’ Nirvana stands up quickly. ‘Can we please just leave?’

  Lisa places a hand on Nirvana’s arm. ‘Look, Nirvana, this is not about you and me. If you make this about you and me, then I seriously wonder what kind of friendship we had in the first place.’

  ‘How about a friendship based on trust?’

  Lisa stands up, her face grim and tense. ‘Exactly. If only you’d see it that way.’

  We walk to the car in silence. And we drive to Lisa’s home in silence. After we drop her off, Ruby and I try to reason with Nirvana, but she stops us almost as soon as we start to talk. She’s not in the mood for talking, she says, and barely manages an audible goodbye when we reach her house.

  ‘Was Lisa wrong not to say something?’ Ruby asks me now that we’re alone.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ I say. ‘I can see Nirvana’s point of view, but if Neela came to see Lisa in confidence, there’s no way in the world she could betray that confidence. Neela’s decision was hers alone, and it was up to her whether she wanted her family to know about it.’

  ‘Nirvana will come round. It must be the shock of what’s happened.’

  We drive to Ruby’s house in silence.

  ‘What about you?’ I say as we approach her driveway.

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Have you come round yet?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I’m meeting him after work tomorrow. He’s called every day, sent me texts.’

  ‘And the other girl?’

  ‘He says it’s over. And I believe him.’

  I smile at her. ‘You’re positive you’re making the right decision?’

  She gives me a firm nod. ‘I think he deserves a second chance. I understand why he didn’t tell me about his girlfriend. He tried to do the right thing and back off, but that night of the party, things were pretty hot between us. I could have held back, shown some self-control, but I didn’t. He told me the truth, and then broke it off with his girlfriend. So he made a mistake, but he’s fixed it, and I think that’s all we can ask of each other, don’t you?’

  I drive. And I can’t explain how it happens but I find myself driving to my dad’s work. As I enter the car park I realise the time has come to take charge of my life, no matter the consequences. Mum and Dad will have to face up to selling the house and buying out west where it’s cheaper.

  He’s delighted to see me, but then goes into panic mode. ‘Is everything okay? What’s wrong?’

  He tells the other guy he’s working with to cover him for half an hour and we walk over the road to a park and sit down. He immediately lights a cigarette.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ he pleads.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dad, but I’m going to quit my job.’

  The colour drains from his face. ‘Quit? Do you have a new job?’

  I shake my head. ‘No ... I’m looking and I have an interview soon.’

  ‘But, Esma, why would you quit without securing another job first? How, Esma? How can we pay the mortgage? We’ll default.’ His face contorts in pain and confusion. ‘I could manage one month, maybe. But not more than that. Without your contribution, the bank will sell ...’

  ‘Dad, listen to me.’

  And I tell him all about Danny. It’s humiliating, but I can no longer be a plaster over a wound he has created.

  He shrinks further and further into the bench as I talk, but he doesn’t interrupt. When I’m finished, there’s a long pause before he speaks. And then he says, ‘You’re right. We can no longer carry this alone, darling. It’s time I told her.’

  Fifty

  On Friday night I sleep over at Senem’s to give my dad the space and privacy to speak to Mum. After dinner, Farouk retreats to the study and Senem and I are left alone in the family room, the latest inane reality TV programme flickering on the screen. I switch it off with the remote and turn to face Senem.

  ‘Hey,’ she says. ‘It was just getting tacky enough to enjoy.’

  ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘Are you going to tell Farouk?’ I ask her, breaking the silence that descends once I’ve told her the whole story. ‘Dad will understand.’

  Senem shakes her head. ‘Do you all have such little faith in Farouk? Do you think he’ d go and blurt it out to his family? Try to score points against us?’

  ‘Actually, no, I don’t,’ I say curtly. ‘I never did, in fact. That’s been Dad’s fear, not mine.’

  She picks at a loose
thread on a cushion. ‘Sorry ... I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘I can say with absolute certainty that not only would Farouk not breathe a word of this to anybody, he’ll try his best to help Mum and Dad find a way through this.’

  ‘Do you think there will be a Mum and Dad after tonight? Once Dad’s confessed?’

  ‘Whatever they decide, we’ll be there for them.’ Senem moves so she’s sitting close beside me and looks me in the eye. ‘You’ve carried this with you for so long and I’ve been such a spoilt brat ... I can’t even begin to imagine the stress you’ve been under.’

  She hugs me, and although we’re both crying, I can’t remember a time this year that I’ve felt so free.

  Some families don’t speak about their grievances; their misery and hurt is hidden by silence or sly digs, so when you walk into their house the tension is palpable. But my family’s never been like that. Before the debt, we were the type of family to scream and shout and rant one minute, and forget and laugh and joke the next. We always let the poison out. No matter how much it hurt, we knew that keeping it in would eventually kill us.

  That’s part of the reason why keeping Dad’s secret has been so unbearable. When I walk into the house with Senem beside me (we thought it best that Farouk stay home for our first visit after Dad’s confession), I trust that our capacity to vent will ultimately be what saves us.

  When we open the door Senem and I can hear Mum yelling.

  ‘I woke up this morning and realised it wasn’t my imagination. It’s real. How could you, Mehmet? How could you sink so low? And with our security? All these years we’ve dedicated to our family, to the girls, to our home, and you threw it all away! Down a machine!’

  My mum’s voice is shrill and hysterical. Senem and I rush to the kitchen where Mum is standing over the worktop, weeping.

  My dad is standing at the other end of the worktop. ‘Please forgive me,’ he says, over and over again.

  ‘What will we do now? We’ll lose the house. Where will we go? Will you have us move in with our son-in-law and daughter? To think they were going to move in with us! They were going to depend on us for help, not the other way round!’