You're Not Proper by Tariq Mehmood

was, but I knew I was meant to keep well away from Karen.
    â€˜I hate her Dad, I hate her!’ I snapped. ‘I don’t know why she came.’
    Dad released me from his stare and I looked out at a woman pushing a baby in a pram. The baby was crying. The woman gently lifted it out, kissed it and hugged it. I wanted to be in a pram with Mum pushing me.
    Dad parked the car outside our house, leaned over and looked at me. I was expecting him to tell me off, like he’d read my thoughts, but he had a warm look in his usually cold, black eyes. His thick, raised brows showed the grey roots of the blackened brows.
    â€˜I’ve been meaning to buy you this,’ Dad said leaning back to the space in front of the front passenger’s seat.
    â€˜You’ve finally got me a new laptop, Dad,’ I thought, ‘you’re so transparent.’
    â€˜I know you might not believe me, but I am so proud of the fact that you came top in the school chess tournament,’ Dad said putting his hand into the bag. ‘That was last year Dad,’ I thought with a sinking heart.
    â€˜We invented
shatrange
, chess, and not the
goray
.’ Dad paused to look at me for a reaction.
    I gave him the best false smile I could muster thinking, ‘Yes Dad, you’ve told me this a thousand times.’
    Dad continued, ‘Chess is such a great way to learn about strategy and planning. And I still remember how you taught me that the quickest check, what do you call it, is foolish mate…’
    â€˜Fools mate, Dad.’
    â€˜Yeh, fools mate, that’s in four moves.’ ‘Two, Dad.’
    â€˜Yes, the old mates of mine are getting into a bit of chess and I want to show them how it can be done in four.’
    â€˜It’s in two, not four, Dad.’ ‘No, that’s impossible.’
    â€˜Come on, hurry up,’ I thought. I think I know what’s in that bag. Handing me a chess set, Dad said, ‘These pieces were hand-carved in Pakistan.’
    â€˜That’s really great, Dad,’ I said taking the chess set from him. ‘Just what I wanted.’
    â€˜Really! I knew, I just knew,’ Dad said. ‘Will you show me the moves?’
    â€˜White pawn to F3. Black pawn to E6. White pawn to G4. Black Queen to H4. Check mate!’ I said quickly. Dad smiled, a stupid
Ireallydontunderstand
type of a smile.
    â€˜The great thing about playing chess is that you have to plan out what you want to do. Life is like that. It requires hard skills. We have to set our goals and follow them. Do you understand, Shamshad?’
    â€˜Yes Dad, I understand.’
    â€˜Love is a soft thing, and to survive in this world we need hard things, strength, thinking tactics. Love is beautiful, but it is not enough. Though I do love you, Shamshad, I want you to be strong.’
    â€˜I understand, Dad. And did you just say you love me?’ Dad smiled. ‘I did.’ He looked as astonished as me.
    Just then, Dad’s mobile rang. I went inside. As I opened the door, I saw Mum walking out of the living room, heading for the kitchen. Skype, I thought. If it was just me and she noticed I had come in, she would have shut the door and carried on. But when Dad came back, she always turned the computer off and entered into the kitchen.
    Dad walked in. He was still talking on the mobile, his face beaming.
    Giving me a twenty-pound note, he said quickly, ‘Second sale in two days. Things are picking up for Medina Estates.’
    I took the money and stepped aside as he walked into the living room. My Dad’s company, Medina Estates, was the oldest estate agency in Boarhead East. It wasn’t just an estate agency. We did money transfers to Pakistan and sold airline tickets, rented property and sold insurance.
    He was in such a good mood today, I saw my chance. Mum was bringing in his tea. I took the tea from Mum and gave it to Dad. He was still on the mobile. Putting the tea on the