Monsoon Memories (11 page)

Oh no. Busted.
What if Aunt Anita told Preeti she was returning her call? Her mother’s chagrin— ‘Do you know how expensive STD calls are? We trusted you, Rinu…’
Courage, Super Sleuth.

‘Could you get her for me? Tell her it’s urgent.’ Aunt Anita sniffed loudly. She really did sound odd, like she had a bad cold.

Ask her now.
Reena sprinted to the front door, opened it wide, yelled, ‘Mum! Aunt Anita on the phone for you,’ and went back to her noodles, eating to drown the serpent.
Chicken. Your one chance and you waste it.

‘Don’t you like Maggi anymore?’ Preeti asked as she picked up the receiver, eyeing Reena’s full plate.

‘This is my second helping,’ Reena mumbled, staring at her plate to avoid having to look at Preeti.

‘Oh, Rinu! Will you have any space left for dinner?’ And then, into the receiver, ‘Hello? Anu, what’s the matter?
What
?’

Oh no. I’m in for it.

‘It’s okay, Anu. Really, it’s fine. You come here. Yes, I’ll talk to him.’

Her mum, ashen-faced, holding on to the arm of the sofa and lowering herself down like an old woman.
Something’s wrong.
‘Mum, what’s happened?’ Reena asked, fork halfway to her mouth.

‘Shh...’ Preeti mouthed at her, and into the phone, ‘Don’t you worry about him. You come here, Anu. As soon as you can. Tomorrow? Yes. Book the ticket now. Take care. Yes, I’ll talk to him. He’ll be fine. We’ll see you tomorrow.’ Her voice soft, very gentle. The same tone she used when Reena had one of her nightmares and needed soothing.

Preeti stared at the receiver for a few moments and then gently laid it down on the table. Slowly, she walked across the living room to the front door, made sure it was closed and locked it for good measure. And before Reena could ask the question forming on her lips, she said, ‘I don’t want Mrs. Gupta getting wind of this.’

‘Getting wind of what?’ Reena asked.

‘Your Aunt Anita is coming tomorrow. She’s getting a divorce, Rinu.’

‘What?’ Aunt Anita actually coming here?
Part 1 of
Plan C—a success
, she thought, and immediately felt guilty as she watched her mother collapse onto the sofa and cover her face with her hands, as her mother’s words sank in.
Aunt Anita getting a divorce?

‘I should have called her. Can’t remember the last time I spoke to her,’ her mother said. ‘I need to talk to your dad.’

‘He’s not going to be pleased.’

‘Yes.’ Her mother sounded defeated. And then she squared her shoulders, stood and picked up the receiver, her fingers flying over the buttons as she dialled.

‘Hello, Deepak?’ she walked to the bedroom, mouthing ‘You eat’ to Reena. Reena stared at her plate of noodles, her appetite gone. In the bedroom, she heard her mother’s voice, soothing, as she talked Deepak into accepting his delinquent sister into his home: ‘I know, Deepak, but she’s very upset. She needs the comfort of family…’

What about your other sister?
Who does she have?

Her mother walked back in, ‘Right. I have to get the guest bedroom sorted, wash the sheets, but first... You look as bad as I feel, Rinu. We need cheering up.’ She disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with a box of mithai: soan papdi, laddoos, halwa and pedas. They flopped on the sofa, pigging out on the sweets and watching the local news.

‘Shh... Listen. Did they say Mangalore? Put the volume up, Rinu. Oh no, fights between the Hindus and Muslims in Mangalore. Ten people killed...’

Reena looked at her mother. Preeti’s hair was loose, in soft waves around her neck and shoulders. She looked worn out. There were lines around her eyes that Reena hadn’t noticed before.

‘This is near Taipur, Rinu.’ In a whisper.

‘Oh! Mai was saying there’s trouble brewing in Taipur as well, wasn’t she?’

‘It’s scary. I hope they don’t start on the Catholics next,’ Preeti said just as the key turned in the lock and Deepak arrived.

Preeti went up to Deepak, cupped his stubbly cheek in the palm of her hand. ‘Come and have dinner first. I’ve made your favourite mutton curry. Then we’ll talk.’

Afterwards, when they had finished the mutton, the pulao and plump, juicy rasagullas, and after they had worried about the Hindu-Muslim unrest in Mangalore, Deepak leaned back wearily in his chair. ‘What is happening to my family, Preeti?’

Preeti reached across and laid her hand on Deepak’s. ‘She sounded so distressed, Deepak. So unlike herself.’

The sniffling. Aunt Anita didn’t have a cold. She had been crying.

‘Divorce. How could she even think about it? After everything that’s happened…’ Deepak ran his fingers through his hair.

An image of Mrs. Gupta, her button eyes bulging, ranting on about the pathetic decline of Indian morals flashed before her eyes. The cloying scent of rasagullas mixed with the spicy smell of congealing mutton curry rose to her nostrils, making her uncomfortably aware of her heavy stomach, too full of pulao and mithai and noodles.

‘I didn’t know anything was wrong. Last time I spoke to her, she and Uttam seemed so happy and were planning so many things together. Mind you, that was a year ago...’ Preeti sighed. ‘I should have called her. But you know how it is; you blink and a year’s flown by...’

‘This will be the last straw for Ma… She’s already so fragile…Whatever happens, we should try and keep it from her. Reena, when you talk to Mai, not a word, okay? Don’t even mention that Aunt Anita is staying with us.’

‘Okay.’ Reena nodded her assent vigorously.

Preeti laid a hand on his arm. ‘Deepak, Anu’s in a state. She’s turned to you for comfort. Be nice to her. No lectures about how she’s destroying the family name—promise?’

‘I’ll try.’ Deepak looked sheepish.

Preeti’s voice, tentative: ‘Family name, honour… It doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does, Deepak. People will talk for a bit, and then forget, move on to the next thing…’

Bang. Deepak brought his hand down on the table, hard, making the dishes clatter, the congealing curry spill. ‘It does to me. To Ma. In Taipur, it is a big deal. We, the Diaz family, are a big deal.
You
know that, Preeti. We cannot allow anything to sully our name. Not a whisper of a rumour. Nothing. As it is, Anu caused enough talk, insisting on marrying Uttam, upsetting Ma, reducing her to half of what she was, leaving her open to insults and barbs. Anita took after Ma, they said. Da married beneath him, they said. Do you know what it did to Ma, being voted out of the parish council committee when Anu married Uttam? She doesn’t show it, just holds her head up high. But I know… I know… And now…’ He laid his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, what a mess...’

From where she was sitting, Reena could see the top of her father’s head, and it shocked her to find a little bald patch around his crown. ‘What does it mean to marry beneath you?’ she asked.

Her dad looked up at her, eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he was going to fob her off. Then, he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘You are growing up; you need to know,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Preeti? Shall we tell her Mai’s story?’

Her mother nodded.

‘Come, sit here,’ her dad said, patting the chair beside him. ‘Your Mai’s father was an alcoholic, her mother a shrew. Her family was the laughing stock of the whole village. Her father used to drink and sleep on the street. When she was ten, a bus ran over him. Her mother was so grief-stricken that she went mad, literally lost her mind. Your Mai had to grow up in a convent.’ Her dad paused to take a breath.

Poor Mai, thought Reena. To lose her parents like that when she was just a year younger than Reena; to be sent to live in a convent, of all places!

‘The nuns kept bees and used to sell honey, the sweetest honey in all of Mangalore,’ continued her dad with a faraway look in his eyes. ‘Your Ab saw your Mai when he went to buy honey and fell in love with her. His parents were not happy with his choice as his family was one of the oldest and most revered in Taipur. They wanted him to marry a girl from a good family and not Mai. They thought he was marrying beneath himself—you understand?’ Her father’s eyes met hers. She nodded.

‘For your Mai, this was the best thing that had ever happened in her life. She had found respectability. She vowed that she would never do anything that would sully the name of Taipur Diaz; that her family would be the pillars of society.’ Her dad smiled gently at her. ‘And that is why status is so very important to your Mai.’

This close up, Reena could see the dark circles under his eyes. ‘And why is it so important to you, Dad?’

‘I love your Mai,’ he said simply. ‘I do not want to see her hurt. She has suffered enough in her life. If status is what matters to her, then status is what I will strive for.’

Her dad sometimes spoke like a character in a book, thought Reena.

Preeti reached across and stroked Deepak’s arm. ‘Ma won’t find out about Anita wanting a divorce, Deepak. This is Bangalore, not Taipur. News doesn’t get around as quickly. And these legal proceedings, they take so long anyway. It will be a couple of years before they are divorced. Anything can happen by then. They may decide not to get divorced at all.’

Deepak looked up. ‘You think? Maybe once she has calmed down...’

‘When she comes here I’ll have a chat with her, find out if she still loves Uttam. She must do. It must have been a lovers’ tiff, strong words exchanged. The word
divorce
would have been bandied about. You know how fiery Anita is, how proud. Things must have ballooned out of proportion...’ When her mother put it like that, Reena could almost believe the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Her father seemed to think so too. He reached across and gave her mother a hug. With his other arm he pulled Reena close.

‘I am lucky to have you, you know,’ he murmured.

‘You are,’ smiled Preeti, ‘Well, there’s a lot to be done before she arrives. Spare room to be made ready, sheets to be washed, excuses to be thought of to give nosy Nupur next door before she starts spreading rumours. Bedtime for all, I think.’

As Reena walked to her room, she heard her dad whisper, ‘Thank you, Preeti. You are so special.’ She turned just in time to see her mother blush before she disappeared into her dad’s bear hug. At least, she thought, her mum and dad were not in danger of divorcing any time soon.

UPDATE: Aunt Anita’s love marriage caused a huge furore. But
she
wasn’t expelled from the family,
she
wasn’t forgotten. So what did Shirin do that was even worse than marrying a Hindu? (NOTE: Word ‘furore’ which sounds like something a lion would make, copied from the new
Thesaurus
—eleventh birthday present. Eugene Ma’am, this detective’s English teacher, who’s always urging this detective to use different, better words, will be pleasantly surprised when she slips this word into her next essay.)

Plan C: Find Aunt Anita and ask her about Aunt Shirin. Find Aunt Anita—Achieved. (She’s coming here!) Ask about Aunt Shirin: See below.

Next Stage(s): Show Aunt Anita the picture and ask her about Aunt Shirin. Find cause of rift and try to fix it. Reunite Aunt Shirin with family,
especially niece
who was instrumental in bringing about the reunion. Hitch: Aunt Anita may not be in the mood to answer questions, on account of wanting to divorce Uncle Uttam. Note: Proceed with caution taking into account Aunt Anita’s fragile emotional state.

She dreamt of a little girl in pigtails with mournful eyes and a face that Reena shared. The girl hovered in a corner, scared, covering her ears with the palms of her hands, as a couple argued relentlessly beside her. The couple was Aunt Anita and Uncle Uttam and they were shouting at each other, hurling insults. Suddenly, Aunt Anita turned and the girl realised it was not Aunt Anita at all, but a monster with gleaming eyes and a mouth that breathed fire. The girl screamed and screamed...

‘Shh... Reena, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s all right, sweetheart...’ She was being enveloped in her mother’s arms; a warm, safe haven, soft as cotton candy. Her mother smelled of the sandalwood talcum powder she smothered herself in after her shower every night. Her hair was loose, messy. The bindi that she had worn last night and forgotten to remove was awry on her forehead. She was wearing her favourite housecoat, a canary yellow one with faded blue flowers. Reena snuggled deeper into her arms. She wished she could stay there forever, but already she didn’t fit as neatly as she had the last time she had had a nightmare, and at the thought, the sobs which had died down to hiccups started afresh.

‘Shh... Rinu, it’s all right, shh...’

‘Mum,’ between hiccups, ‘will you sleep here tonight?’

‘Of course, sweetheart. I’m here, right next to you, okay? Shall I sing you a lullaby?’

‘No,’ Reena interjected quickly.

She felt her mother grin as she settled down beside her. ‘Surely I can’t be that bad? When you were a baby you quite liked my lullabies’

Reena smiled despite her tears. ‘I used to fall asleep as quickly as possible just to escape having to listen to your singing efforts.’

‘That settles it then,’ her mother laughed, ‘Sa Re Ga Ma...’

‘Preeti, stop that,’ shouted Deepak from the other room. ‘Can’t a man get some peace in his own house, without having to endure his tuneless wife break into song in the middle of the night?’

‘That’s it. You’ve hurt my feelings, you two. From now on, even if you beg me to sing, I won’t.’

‘There is a God!’ sang Deepak. ‘Goodnight.’

Reena’s sobs dissolved into giggles and she fell asleep in the warm cocoon of her mother’s embrace.

The next afternoon, Bangalore experienced freak thunderstorms which caused havoc in the city and perplexed the weathermen.

And Aunt Anita arrived.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Blue-Tinged Shadow

‘S
hirin, do you have a minute? Marie wants a word.’ Kate was businesslike, preoccupied.

‘Yes, of course.’ A shiver of apprehension tickled Shirin’s spine. Marie was Kate’s boss, the deputy head of Utilities, the division they all worked for. She was the one who had handled the issue with Ian.