The Other Hand

democracy,” I said. “If you did not have it, you would want it.”
    We sat and watched the prime minister’s lips moving.
    “What’s he saying?” said Charlie.
    “He is saying that he will make ice-cream snow.”
    Charlie spun round to look at me. “WHEN?” he said.
    “About three o’clock in the afternoon, if the weather is cool enough. He is also saying that young people who are running away from trouble in other countries will be allowed to stay in this country so long as they work hard and do not make any fuss.”
    Charlie nodded. “I think the prime minisser is a goody.”
    “Because he will be kind to refugees?”
    Charlie shook his head. “Because of the ice-cream snow,” he said.
    There was a laugh from the door. I turned around and Lawrence was there. He was wearing a bathrobe, and he stood there in his bare feet. I do not know how long he had been listening to us.
    “Well,” he said, “we know how to buy that boy’s vote.”
    I looked at the floor. I was embarrassed that Lawrence had been standing there.
    “Oh don’t be shy,” he said. “You’re great with Charlie. Come and have some breakfast.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Batman, do you want some breakfast?”
    Charlie stared at Lawrence and then he shook his head, so I switched through the TV channels until we found the one that Charlie liked, and then I went into the kitchen.
    “Sarah’s sleeping,” said Lawrence. “I suppose she needs the rest. Tea or coffee?”
    “Tea, thank you.”
    Lawrence boiled the kettle and he made tea for both of us. He put my tea down on the table in front of me, carefully, and he turnedthe handle of the mug toward my hand. He sat down on the other side of the table, and smiled. The sun was lighting up the kitchen. It was thick yellow—a warm light, but not a show-off light. It did not want the glory for the illumination of the room. It made each object look as if it was glowing with a light from deep inside itself. Lawrence, the table with its clean blue cotton tablecloth, his orange tea mug and my yellow one—all of it glowing from within. The light made me feel very cheerful. I thought to myself, that is a good trick.
    But Lawrence was serious. “Look,” he said, “I think you and I need to make a plan for your welfare. I’m going to be very clear about this. I think you should go to the local police and report yourself. I don’t think it’s right for you to expose Sarah to the stress of harboring you.”
    I smiled. I thought about Sarah harboring me, as if I was a boat.
    Lawrence said, “This isn’t funny.”
    “But no one is looking for me. Why should I go to the police?”
    “I don’t think it’s right, your being here. I don’t think it’s good for Sarah at the moment.”
    I blew on my tea. The steam from it rose up into the still air of the kitchen, and it glowed. “Do you think you are good for Sarah at the moment, Lawrence?”
    “Yes. Yes I do.”
    “She is a good person. She saved my life.”
    Lawrence smiled. “I know Sarah very well,” he said. “She told me the whole story.”
    “So you must believe I am only staying here to help her.”
    “I’m not convinced you’re the kind of help she needs.”
    “I am the kind of help that will look after her child like he was my own brother. I am the kind of help that will clean her house and wash her clothes and sing to her when she is sad. What kind of help are you, Lawrence? Maybe you are the kind of help that only arrives when it wants sexual intercourse.”
    Lawrence smiled again. “I’m not going to take offense atthat,” he said. “You’re one of those women who has a funny idea about men.”
    “I am one of those women who has seen men do things that are not funny.”
    “Oh please. This is Europe. We’re a little more house-trained over here.”
    “Different from us, you think?”
    “If you must put it that way.”
    I nodded.
    “A wolf must be a wolf and a dog must be a dog.”
    “Is that what they say in your country?”
    I smiled.
    Lawrence frowned. “I don’t get you,” he said. “If you understood how serious your situation is, I don’t think you’d smile.”
    I shrugged.
    “If I could not smile, I think my situation would be even more serious.”
    We drank tea and he watched me and I watched him. He had green eyes, green as the eyes of the girl in the yellow sari on the day they let us out of the detention center. He watched me without blinking.
    “What will you do?” I said. “What