Chapter 45

Foreign Shores

Lindiwe

2068

Even when she had to do something as simple as making a phone call, Lindiwe was nowadays reduced to having to trade her body for the privilege. At least, Larry wasn't a client as such—those days were behind her—but neither was he exactly her lover. He was actually rather more considerate than most of her clients had been, though he didn't give her the kind of respect that she'd expect from a real lover. Lindiwe hadn't had one of those since the days she'd been working at the Reigate Refugee Centre. In fact, she felt so compromised by her year or so of working as a prostitute that she wondered whether she could ever again enjoy something as uncomplicated as a love affair.

"You know how to use the internet phone?" Larry asked after he'd switched on his computer and loaded the right application.

Did the man think she was a total idiot?

"I think so," said Lindiwe. "I just hope my Mum's in."

"Your mother's got a computer?" said Larry with slight surprise.

"Nan has," said Lindiwe. "My grandmother. Granny Lakeisha. She works for a foreign agency as a doctor. Not everyone in Lesotho is starving and poor."

"I don't know about that," said Larry. "What you see on television makes you think everyone in Africa is as a poor as shit. It's just all wars, famine, plague, all that shit. No wonder you wanted to get out."

"That may be so, Larry," said Lindiwe as she nodded meaningfully at the computer screen. "But if you don't mind..."

"Oh, of course, Linda," Larry said, as he walked out of his study and discreetly closed the door behind him.

Lindiwe composed herself. At least she was wearing a relatively smart blouse and had brushed her hair. She'd even had a shower, even though modern technology hadn't yet advanced to the extent that she could be smelt as well as seen. On the other hand, Lindiwe wanted to remove every last trace of Larry's body odours before she got dressed again. He was a gentler lover than most, but Lindiwe could never describe what they had as a loving relationship. For a start, Larry was some twenty years older than her. Furthermore, it was unlikely that any of his neighbours would welcome a black girl into the neighbourhood if he were ever to ask her to live with him. The few years of the Government of National Unity and the many more years of strict immigration control had wiped clean any pretence England might once have had of being a harmonious multicultural society.

Lindiwe would much rather be living in Larry's nondescript semi-detached house than the rundown squat in Redhill where she shared a room with three other women who were also illegal immigrants from Africa. She'd much rather have the benefits of central heating, wall-to-wall carpets, electricity, running water and well-sprung beds than have to sleep on bare boards and share a duvet with her roommates. In fact, she would much rather enjoy the luxury of the studio flat she'd once rented with Jiao-Jie, but this was something she could no longer afford after she'd worked her notice for Empire Cleaning Services. More to the point, she didn't want to be constantly reminded of her former life by the constant presence of a flatmate who was still employed by the same company. It was better for her to make a total break, even if she did now have to live in unspeakable squalor.

Lindiwe settled in the office chair, adjusted the desk lamp so that it didn't shine directly into her eyes and waited for the dialling tone. Then there was the agonising wait while the phone rang at the other end. Surely her mother would be there. Lindiwe tried to arrange her phone calls home on a regular basis although it was difficult for her to keep her appointment. To do so invariably involved having to agree to have sex with Larry or Mark or Derek or any of the other older men that Lindiwe had got to know on a casual basis. She hoped that her mother wouldn't draw too many conclusions from the variety of different backgrounds that accompanied her daughter's calls.

There was always an element of tension in these conversations. Her mother had never been happy when Lindiwe had escaped Lesotho's misery by running all the way to England. She'd be even less happy if she knew what Lindiwe had had to do to make a living so far north. She never told her mother that she'd worked for Empire Cleaning Services. She was evasive about what she'd been doing since she'd been forced out of the Reigate Refugee Centre. And she couldn't really say much about the squalid hand-to-mouth day-by-day existence she now had to live as a result of not being able to find a reliable source of employment since she'd handed in her notice.

Was this her reward for her principles? But then again they weren't so much principles as an accumulation of disgust.

Lindiwe glanced back at the door. It was still closed. Larry had probably retreated to the living room to watch television although there would be no problem if he happened to be eavesdropping. Larry didn't speak Sesotho.

"Hello, Nan," said Lindiwe when she'd made a connection and her grandmother's face was displayed on the screen. "Is my mother there?"

"That's Lindiwe, isn't it?" replied her grandmother. "No, she isn't. She's not been feeling very well."

"Oh dear, what is it? Not the plague, I hope."

"Your mother's got some kind of illness of the liver, dear. It might be one of those new strains of Hepatitis. Her doctor doesn't think it's especially serious. But enough of that. How are you, dear? How is England? Where are you living now?"

"I'm living just outside London. It's a town called Redhill."

"Really dear," said Lindiwe's grandmother. "I know Redhill. I used to live in Reigate once upon a time, you know."

"Did you?" said Lindiwe in genuine surprise. She'd forgotten that her grandmother had once lived in England. In fact, she'd lived there over ten years before Lindiwe was even born. She was reminded that the prospect of following in her grandmother's footsteps had been a factor that had originally attracted her to England.

"I remember Reigate very well," her grandmother continued. "That was between the two nuclear wars. It was a very affluent Surrey town."