my wage. I give you a manicure; you pay me. That makes sense. Whereas what Jakey does…”
“What does he do?” I ask, because it’s something I’ve often wondered. “I mean, his MBA course, obviously….”
“Oh, he dropped out of that months ago,” says Leila. “He said the tutors were all useless.”
I should feel shocked, but somehow I don’t. Not now.
“He talks as though he’s still doing it,” I say. “Mum thinks he’s still doing it. Everyone does.”
“I know.” Leila bites her lip. “I’ve said to him, ‘Jakey, you should tell your family.’ ”
He dropped out of his MBA but he didn’t volunteer to do any more work at the shop, I silently register. Yet he’s taken all these loans from it.
“So what does he do all day?” I persist. “How does he make all his money?”
“He made a lot out of those nude knickers,” says Leila, her brows winged anxiously. “That was a good deal. They were a good product. I wear them myself!” she adds, with a brief show of brightness. “But ever since then…” She trails into silence.
“But that was two years ago.” I stare at her. “Hasn’t he done any more deals since then? I thought…”
Jake talks as though he’s made a million deals, each more profitable than the last. He drops constant references to “export” and “my latest venture” and deals which are “on the horizon.” We’ve never questioned him, we’ve only listened, awed.
Leila still hasn’t replied. She’s busying herself with bottles of topcoat.
“Leila?” I say more urgently. “Has he?”
“I don’t think so,” she whispers at last. “He just has lunch with people. That’s what I don’t get. How does having lunch earn you money?” she says in sudden bewilderment. “I like a job I can see.” She pats her manicure case. “I like work. So, if you give me your right hand again…” she adds, in her manicurist’s voice.
I watch silently as she starts filing my nails. The rhythmic action of her file is kind of mesmerizing and soothing. It’s reassuring. For both of us, I suspect.
“I knew he was stressed out,” I say after a while. “But I had no idea…”
“He’s secretive,” says Leila. “He doesn’t even tell me everything. He wants everyone to think he’s…” She pauses as though thinking how to put it. “Winning. Master of the universe.”
“I thought maybe he was burned out from too many deals.”
“It’s the opposite!” Leila replies, her voice wavering between a sob and a laugh. “It’s not enough deals! It’s no income! Nothing to pay the mortgage!”
“But you’re still with him?” I blurt out the question before I can stop myself. For a moment Leila stops filing my nails and I worry that I’ve offended her. But when she looks up, her gaze is nothing but wistful.
“Jake’s been good to me. I’m not going to abandon him, just because…” She hesitates, her eyes dimming slightly. “I know some people find him a bit…much. But he’s got a softer side, you know.”
“I know.” I nod.
“Jakey talks about life. He has interesting ideas. He’s fun. He wants to do things, you know? Some men, they don’t want to do anything or go anywhere.”
“Jake’s never had that problem,” I say in wry tones, and Leila smiles, then wipes her wet eyes and resumes filing.
When both my hands are done, she pats them dry and starts to apply a base coat.
“Did you choose a color yet?” she asks, and I point randomly to the lilac nail polish.
“Lovely choice!” says Leila, and she starts to unscrew the pot. And we’re both so calm and peaceful now, I almost don’t want to ruin the atmosphere, but I have to ask one more question.
“So what’s Jake going to do now?”
Leila exhales in a shuddery breath and stares down at the nail-polish pot, blinking hard.
“Get some money from somewhere,” she says at last. “I said to him, ‘Jakey, get a job! A job!’ But you know what he’s like….”
“Where will he get more money?” I say bluntly.
Slowly, Leila’s skinny arms and shoulders rise up in the most hopeless shrug I’ve ever seen. For a few moments we’re both silent, because what is there to say? Then Leila’s eyes brighten.
“I could put a shimmer on top of the lilac,” she says. “I’ve got a lovely new product, shall I show you?”
I know displacement when I see it. Her hands are trembling as she reaches for the pot and her eyes are shadowy and I decide we’ve talked enough about Jake.