TARIQ. âKinell, Meenah, watch what youâre doing!
MEENAH. It stinks of burnt bacon in here, me dadâll smell it a mile off.
TARIQ. Chuck some curry powder about, thatâll cover it.
She goes into the kitchen and comes out sprinkling curry powder around.
How longâs me mam been at the hospital?
MEENAH. âBout an hour, we got plenty of time. Whereâs Saleem, not like him to miss a fry up?
TARIQ. Said heâd be late, something to do with his model, said to save him some though.
MEENAH. He can piss off, he should be taking the risk if he wants to eat. âKin college boy. Me mamâs mad, she keeps buying him felt-tip pens from the market. Heâs got âem all piled up upstairs. Even Auntie Annie gets them for him now, heâll be able to open a shop soon.
TARIQ. See that dressing gown me dad bought for Sajit, just because heâs getting the chop?
MEENAH (cynically). Yeah right, itâll look great under his parka, you spoke to our Abdul yet?
TARIQ. I tried to, but he wonât say owt.
We hear a knock on the door, they both freeze.
MEENAH. Who is that?
She goes into the parlour, TARIQ picks up the plate of food ready to run.
(Off.) Itâs alright, itâs only Saleem.
She goes out of the parlour to let him in. They both come into the living-room, SALEEM carrying his portfolio.
SALEEM. I hope you saved me some of that?
He grabs some sausage and bacon.
MEENAH. Alright Saleem, itâs not leaving the frigging country, âkinell, heâs like a bleedinâ gannet. (She mimics SALEEM grabbing the food.)
TARIQ and MEENAH laugh.
SALEEM. Oh cool it Meenah, youâre a drag.
MEENAH and TARIQ laugh at this.
MEENAH (taking the mickey). Yeah, right, Saleem, Iâll cool it, hey yeah. Letâs go to college. Cool it! Who the fuck do you think you are?
Suddenly the door opens behind them. They all scream at the prospect of it being GEORGE, but it is only MANEER.
Ahhh!
SALEEM. Ahhh!
TARIQ. Ahhh!
MANEER. I can smell that from outside!
TARIQ. Where did you get a front door key from, Gandhi?
MANEER. Off me dad.
TARIQ. Can you believe that, old enough to get married to some bird who dresses like Sinbad the sailor, with a hole through her nose, and he gives Gandhi his own key.
MEENAH. What a twat!
MANEER. Yours is called Nigget, not Sinbad.
TARIQ. Nigget! Bleeding Nigget! What sort of a come on is that? Nigget my lovely, shed those silken pantaloons and lay your head on my palliasse.
SALEEM. Thought about what youâre gonna do, Tariq?
TARIQ. Not marrying Nigget, put it that way!
SALEEM. Youâve no choice really.
TARIQ. Oh shut up Saleem!
SALEEM. Iâm only stating facts.
MANEER. Whatâs Abdul said about it?
TARIQ. Oh heâs fucking useless.
SALEEM. I still think youâve no choice.
TARIQ. I have. I either stay here and have me dad tell me what to do for the rest of me life, or I do what our Nazir did and go.
MEENAH. You canât do that Tariq, what about me mam?
MANEER. Sheâs right, me mam got a right bollocking when Nazir left.
SALEEM. You canât let her go through that again.
TARIQ. Yeah, alright, I know what happened, but I think she got bollocked âcause he wanted to be a hairdresser, not âcause he didnât get married.
We hear banging on the door.
MEENAH. Who the fuckâs that now?
TARIQ. Go and see, Meenah.
MEENAH. No way, I went last time.
MANEER. If me dad finds me here, heâll kill me.
TARIQ. Heâll do the lot of us if he sees what weâre eating.
We hear GEORGE shout through the letter-box.
GEORGE. Open door!
SALEEM. Oh shit!
GEORGE. Open bloody door!
MEENAH grabs the air freshener and starts to spray round the room, while SALEEM, TARIQ and MANEER hide the food. They run, leaving MANEER alone. He goes to let GEORGE in. Suddenly SALEEM sprints in and grabs his portfolio and sprints out again. ELLA enters the parlour with SAJIT . She lays him on on the couch, which has been made up into a bed. GEORGE is there as well. MANEER is now in the sitting room. He checks for any evidence and sees a sausage on the floor. He picks it up, doesnât know what to do with it.
I go watch the news. You want tea?
ELLA. Yeah go on then.
GEORGE enters the living room.
GEORGE. What you doing?
MANEER has now thrown the sausage under the couch.
MANEER. Just looking for my other shoes, dad.
GEORGE. What time Abdul get back from work?
MANEER. About half past five, dad. Howâs Sajit?
GEORGE. He fine now. Put kettle on for your mam, make tea.
MANEER goes into the kitchen.
You go to mosque today, puther?
MANEER (off). Erm, no dad, tomorrow.
GEORGE (lights fag). You good boy, God will help you, if you live your life believing in God. People who no follow the rules of God, he sending bloody hell. They have no chance in the world, like man we see on Sunday, he say, God say, send money, he bloody stupy, I tell you son. (He clears his throat.) He have nothing because he no understand God. Not educated you see. He say there is no God, we all God. This man bloody pagan . . . bhenchoud badahmarsh, if they no God, what we all bloody doing?
MANEER is completely confused in the kitchen.
MANEER. Yeah, dad.
GEORGE. You see, puther, this country not like our peoples, I been here since 1930, I try to make good life for my family. Your mother is good woman, but she not understand, son. I love my family, but all time I have trouble with people, they not like I marry you mother. Always calling you mother bad name. That why I always try to show Pakistani way to live is good way, parent look after children, children look after parent. English people not like this. All my family love each other. Bradford, Pakistan. All same, nobody different.
MANEER. I know what youâre trying to say, dad! (To himself.) Itâs the others youâve got to convince.
Fade out in the living room and kitchen and up in the parlour.
ELLA sits next to SAJIT on the couch, heâs dropped off to sleep. She hums to him and strokes his hair. ANNIE pops her head round the door. ELLA beckons her in, sheâs got a bag of fruit and some comics for him.
ANNIE. Howâs he doing?
ELLA. Alright, just a bit sore.
ANNIE. Poor little bleeder, whereâs old bothered balls, he happy now?
ELLA. Next door. He bought him a new dressing gown and a watch.
ANNIE. Not much of a swap, but itâs better than nowt I suppose.
Pause.
ELLA. Annie . . . Do you think Iâm a good mother?
ANNIE. What sort of bleeding questionâs that? Course you are. Whatâs put that in your head?
ELLA. Well would you have put one of your lads through this?
ANNIE doesnât answer.
ANNIE. You had no choice.
ELLA. I did though, Annie, I should have put me foot down and said no.
ANNIE. And given yourself a load of bleeding grief, you know what heâs like.
ELLA. I know, but now he wants to marry Abdul and Tariq off. Am I to just stand by and let him throw them out when they say no?
Pause.
ANNIE. Have they said owt to you?
ELLA. Abdul wonât talk about it, I t...