Asymmetry - Lisa Halliday Page 0,46
an infinite current and Sami the copper wire through which they wanted to flow. Of course, every now and again he would stumble over a difficult passage and back up to play it again, but this was rarer than you’d expect. And never, not once—I cannot even imagine it—did he growl or drive his fists into the keys with impatience. I have always envied my brother his affair with that piano. You can tell when someone is unbedeviled by time.
WHEN I’D SAT HOLDING my half sheet of paper for a full forty minutes more I stood up and asked the woman in the lavender hijab whether I might be allowed to make a call.
Who’s dealing with you?
I didn’t catch her name. She has blond hair, down to here. . . .
Denise. Let me see if I can find her.
My seat was still warm.
I had some extracurricular reading on post-Keynesian price theory with me, but instead of opening it I was watching the other arrivals as they reached the end of the metal maze. A man wearing a turban and a badge on a ribbon around his neck stood at the terminus and directed each new group or solitary traveler to a desk. People shuffled forward in suits and saris, stilettos and sweatpants, pushing strollers or carrying neck pillows or briefcases or teddy bears or shopping bags festooned with two-dimensional bows and holly. Sometimes only one passport would be stamped; other times you heard two or three or four stamped in quick succession—like library books, once upon a time. And the overall rhythm of people advancing and stamps stamping had a kind of prolonged regularity to it, like a jazz improvisation that, for all its deviations, never loses its beat.
Then a small, unaccompanied woman failed to move on. She had dark shoulder-length hair and stood at the desk she’d been shunted to shyly, as though trying to become invisible. She nodded at everything the immigration officer said. She nodded even when it looked from the officer’s face that maybe she had not understood the question. She did not have any luggage with her, only a small satin-embroidered purse that she held with both hands in front of her hips like a fig leaf. The officer frowned at her kindly, but also intently, as if he were trying to prop her up with his eyes.
When the officer handed the girl a half sheet of paper like mine the girl turned around to sit down and I saw that she was Chinese.
Not five minutes later her officer returned. It piqued me that this should happen so quickly, while my own officer took her time.
To a second officer the first officer said: Tell her that you are here to translate.
The translator tugged up her trousers and crouched down to speak to the girl in short twanging sounds that to my ears could have been the same language played backward. The girl nodded.
Tell her that she’s not in trouble, we’re just concerned about her welfare and need to ask her some additional questions before we can let her through.
Again the second officer spoke and the girl nodded.
What is the name of her school here in the UK?
The girl took a piece of paper out of her purse.
Pointing, the first officer said: Whose number is this?
Her professor’s.
Who is her professor?
‘Professor Ken.’
Professor Ken helped her arrange this visa?
Yes.
But she doesn’t know the name of Professor Ken’s school?
‘Ken School.’
How long is she planning on staying?
Six months.
Does she have a return flight?
No, but she’ll buy one.
Where will she live?
Professor Ken has a house.
Where?
She doesn’t know.
How much money does she have?
Professor Ken has given her a scholarship.
Do her parents know she’s here?
The girl nodded.
Does she have a phone number for them? A number we could call?
The girl produced a pink Nokia and showed it to the second officer, who wrote something down.
Tell her she’s not in trouble; we’re just concerned that she seems to be here without a place to stay and hardly any English skills.
When the second officer had translated, the girl spoke at length for the first time, in a high-pitched rush that seemed to strain against panic. Then abruptly she stopped talking and both officers looked uncertain as to whether she was done.
She says she’s here to learn English, the second officer said. Her family knows she’s here. She got a scholarship from Professor Ken, who arranged for the visa, and when she’s collected her luggage she’s supposed to call this number and Professor Ken will come