“Wow,” he says.
She runs her hands over her hips, ostensibly smoothing the fall of the dress. “You like?”
“I like,” he growls. He moves towards her, his hands following the path of hers. “Do you think anyone will notice if we’re late?”
“Yes. I’ve scarcely met your mother. I’m not going to leave her twiddling her thumbs alone in a restaurant because her son was feeling horny.” Jasmine slides out of his reach, but she is gratified by his reaction. She does not want to bethatwoman – one who prizes appearance over substance – but she cannot help feeling thrilled Ben finds her physically attractive, that he likes the “pudginess” that seems so repugnant to her own mother.
Jasmine need not have worried about being late, for when they enter the restaurant, Ben’s mother is nowhere in sight. It is another ten minutes before she arrives, swaying on her stilettos and obviously squiffy from afternoon drinking. Jasmine is both fascinated and appalled as her idol drops heavily into her seat.
“Is it just me or is it hot in here?” asks the Right Honourable Hannah Green, shadow cabinet member, as she pulls forward her satin shirt and blows on her breasts. Before she can undo the buttons on her front, her husband leans over to trap her hands.
“I think we need to get some food in you,” Asim says fondly, then signals to a waiter for bread and a coffee.
Asim, himself, sticks with water. Despite Asim being a lapsed Muslim, Jasmine notes he avoids alcohol and she thinks he would probably pass on a bacon sandwich if the family weren’t already vegetarian.
“Ms G?” Jasmine says, offering Ben’s mother the bread basket when it comes.
“I like that,” she says. “Makes me sound like a female rap artist. Ms G.” She launches into a classic Cardi B, expletive-laden, rap song. She is loud enough to attract the attention of some of the other diners, and Jasmine can see phones being lifted.
“Or maybe Missy G?” suggests Jasmine, heading off a social media disaster of epic proportions. She starts thesupaflychant,and hopes Hannah will take the hook and sing the overlay of the rain against the window.
Hannah manages one verse and then erupts into giggles. Finally, she notices the bread basket that Jasmine is still holding and grabs a piece.
“Oh good! I’m starving,” she says. “The gannets ate all the party food before I even got there!” A statement that goes some way to explaining her intoxication.
With the bread sopping up some of the alcohol and the coffee providing a sobering counterpoint, Hannah manages to get through the meal without further incident. She falls asleep in the taxi on the way home, and Asim and Ben carry her into the house together.
Later that night, Ben holds Jasmine close and says, “Thank you.” He plants a kiss on her forehead before continuing, “Jasmine Mortimer, I think you are pretty much perfect.”
Her soul burns with pride at the praise, but she can’t help deprecating the compliment. “I’m far from perfect. You’re the one who’s perfect. Handsome, clever, passionate.”
He scoffs. “I’m not handsome. My nose is too big.”
“I think it is just right.” Jasmine kisses his chest and those are the last words either of them speaks for quite some time.
The following morning, a delicate-looking Hannah gives Jasmine her own quiet thanks. “No problem, Ms G,” she replies.
Hannah shudders at her words and says, “Please, call me Hannah.”
“Of course,” Jasmine says with a smile.
Jasmine has never spent Christmas anywhere other than with her family so, naturally, she finds aspects of the Khans’ celebration alien. She is surprised when all the gifts are opened before breakfast and not necessarily communally. Ben bestows his gift, a beautiful pair of ethically sourced, silver earrings, as soon as she wakes. And she is flummoxed when Asim seats them all in front of the television mid-afternoon to watch the Queen’s Speech, an experience she is not keen to repeat. But that night, lying beside her comatose lover, Jasmine looks back on the day and realises it was perhaps one of the happiest Christmases she can ever recall.
An Unexpected Request
As soon as the Christmas and New Year festivities are finished, Jasmine returns to the flat she shares with Sean. The time spent conducting her love life has inversely impacted her studies and her goal of a first-class honours degree is in jeopardy. She has done almost no work on her dissertation and once term starts, she can expect the available time to shrink rapidly. She and Ben agree to spend their days apart studying, even as they spend their nights together.
By the time term begins, by dint of long hours and focused application, she has made up lost ground. She has completed her literature review and even has a rough plan. All in all, she is more confident she is back on top of her workload and making progress. It helps that the apartment is empty. A barrage of texts from Sean on Christmas Eve proclaiming he had met his soulmate explains his absence. The lucky man is apparently a mechanic called Georg who works for his dad’s business in Hayburn.
It is not until Sunday that Sean arrives, bringing with him such an overload of joy and an incessant chatter about his new man that Jasmine is forced to consider,Is this what I was like last term?
Having spent an hour filling her in what Georg wears, what Georg does and what Georg says, Sean finally remembers to ask Jasmine about her Christmas holiday.
“It was lovely, thanks,” she says.
“And your man is still shitting sparkly poop?”
“Yes. Ben is perfect.”
