The Delhi Deception (18 page)

Carla tried to read, but she couldn’t concentrate.
When should I go back to the study?
She realized that it would have to be before Harry tried to unlock the back door. The realization that he might come back with the peon and try to unlock it made her feel quite ill.
I have to go in soon
, she decided, and got up, but as she was about to leave her room, Elouise knocked gently on her door. Carla jumped back onto the bed and lay down.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“Should I call the doctor?”

“There’s really no need. I’ll be OK.”

Elouise smiled and said, “Good, try to get some rest. Kishan will bring you some kichry for lunch. Not the tastiest of meals, but the best thing for Delhi belly.”

“Thanks. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I called one of the moms on the fundraising committee to come for tea to discuss the fashion show. This evening, Harry and I are going to the Habitat Centre for a piano recital—you’re still having dinner with George?”

“Let’s see how I feel; probably better if I stay home.”

“OK, but shout if you need anything. I’ll check on you later.” Elouise left, and Carla lay back against the cushions breathing with slow deliberation.

The shrill ring of the phone made her jump. It was George. “Hello, Carla.”

“Hi, George, all OK?”

“Yeah, where are you?”

“I’m home. I was about to call you; I can’t have dinner with you tonight.”

George’s voice was guarded. “Is everything OK?”

“I’m a little under the weather, but I think an early night will do the trick. Elouise and Harry are out, so I’ll just have an early supper in bed.”

“Yes of course, I understand. If you’re better in the morning then maybe we could take a walk in Lodhi Garden?”

Carla realized that George had understood exactly what she had meant, which gave her an odd thrill.

“Sure, at about eight?”

“Looking forward to seeing you. And, Carla, take care.” George hung up.

Carla spent the rest of the day corresponding with friends, but when some of them started asking too many questions about Andrew, she stopped. She had too much to think about right now; Andrew, it surprised her to realize, was the least of her worries. Kishan brought the kichry, a bland rice and lentil dish. She asked him casually whether Harry was coming back for lunch.

“No, Madam. Sahib take tiffin lunch to office.”

After lunch she walked around the back garden, but the mali was working in his vegetable patch with a good view of Harry’s study. The dhobi was also scuttling back and forth with the family’s washing. Realizing that it was impossible to enter the study undetected with the army of staff on the property, Carla went back to her room, where she tried to read. The advocate returned her call, and after she explained who she was, he said he’d meet her on his return the following week from Calcutta. Carla wondered whether she’d still be there and realized her trip to India had not been very successful.

Elouise brought her a cup of tea in the late afternoon. “Feeling better?”

Carla took the tea and smiled. “Yes, thank you. This tea smells divine. What is it?”

“It’s Darjeeling, but with added secret spices. It’s supposed to take away nausea. Harry told me that it was his ayah’s recipe, and he swears by it. Made me promise not to ever give it away.” She laughed.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Good, I think we’re almost set. We need to find a few more models. We’re using some of the moms. They have great figures. Hey—what about you? You’d be perfect, and it’s all for a good cause.”

“No way. You must be mad.”

“Come on, it will be fun. You’ll still be here. Go on, do me a favor?”

Laughing, Carla said, “I can’t, really; I might not even be here.” She was trying her best to feign embarrassment. She knew she couldn’t model in front of a crowd of strangers—what if someone from the auction attended?

Elouise gave her a kiss and said, “OK, I’ll let you off. Are you fine staying in tonight?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to watch the History Channel and get some beauty sleep.”

Harry returned just before seven, and Carla was so nervous that she thought she was going to gag—terrified that he would discover the changed padlock. She had left her door ajar so that she could hear the goings-on of the household. It sounded like they were running late for the recital, Elouise fussing and hurrying Harry and the kids. At last the house was still. Carla’s heart was pounding violently, throbbing in her ears—cutting through the palpable silence. After a light dinner of bland chicken soup, she dismissed Kishan, and to her relief he retired to the servant quarters.

Carla walked around to the front veranda and pretended to select some magazines from the rack while her eyes were scouring for the whereabouts of the chowkidar. He was standing at the front gate chatting loudly to a passerby on a bicycle. The back garden and veranda were quiet. The outside light was off—
Hopefully fused
, Carla thought, pleased with the semidarkness outside Harry’s study. She went back to her room to retrieve the lock and USB flash drive George had given her. Turning up the volume on the television, Carla closed her door and hoped that she had succeeded in giving the impression that she was in her room.

Her hands were clammy. With slow, deliberate steps she made her way back to Harry’s study. Holding the small flashlight in her mouth, she unlocked her brass padlock on the door and swapped it with the original one, which she left open. She pushed open the double door, and it creaked loudly. Glued to the spot, she listened, but nobody else seemed to have heard, as laughter and chatter continued to filter through faintly from the servant quarters. Hunching her shoulders, Carla crept into the room.

It was dark, and after placing her padlock in her trouser pocket she used the flashlight to look around. Dark wooden bookshelves, overcrowded with books, covered the walls. Piles of books were even stacked on the floor. She inspected them briefly, but they were mostly textbooks ranging from quantum physics to algebraic topology. A large wooden desk, also covered in books and files, took up most of the space in the room. She couldn’t find a laptop, but three separate monitors sat buzzing on the desk. The computer was in a glass and steel cabinet with a couple of routers; it looked as if it was locked. Carla felt like crying but tried to open it anyway. To her surprise, it opened, and she almost shrieked with joy.

It wasn’t a standard computer, and Carla remembered Elouise telling her that Harry always built his own computers. It didn’t take her long to find the USB slot. She removed the bejeweled flash drive, hanging on a chain from her neck, and slotted it in. The middle monitor lit up, and to her relief no password was required. Using the keyboard on the desk, she started the cloning process. With a groan she saw that it would take about twenty minutes. She clicked continue and opened the drawers on the left-hand side of the desk. They were messy and filled with stationery and papers. The bottom drawer was locked. There was a bunch of keys in the top drawer, but none of them unlocked the drawer. Remembering a movie where a key was stuck to the underside of a desk, she went down onto her hands and knees. With the flashlight she examined the underside of the desk but found nothing. Irritated, she bumped her head as she started crawling out from under the desk. The dust made her nose tickle.

Halfway out, she froze on hearing Elouise’s daughters screaming at each other in an obvious childish argument.
They’re back. So soon!
She had to clamp her nose and mouth closed, as her eyes had started streaming and she had the urge to sneeze. The light was switched on in the children’s bedroom, and then, the stiletto rays of light coming through the blinds on the glass door dividing the study from the master bedroom cast menacing beams on Carla’s body. She could see movements in the bedroom and guessed it to be Harry, as she could hear Elouise’s raised voice coming from the girls’ bedroom, admonishing them for not getting to bed.

She jumped up from under the desk and saw that there were four remaining minutes on the cloning process.
What do I do now?
With an iron will that surprised her, she controlled her reflexes to run. There was no movement in the room. Her hand poised at the USB slot, she whispered softly, “C’mon, c’mon.” She sensed rather than saw the shadow in the doorway. The door was opening. As Harry’s head poked through, Carla ducked behind the desk.
Oh no, oh no, I’m going to be caught
. The perspiration was cold against her skin. Closing her eyes, she waited for the light to be turned on.

Then Elouise said something to Harry. Carla could only make out the last words, “They’re not listening to me; please do something.”

Carla opened her eyes and heard Harry retreating to the bedroom. “Thank you, God, thank you,” she prayed silently. As if hypnotized, she watched the final seconds of the cloning, yanked out the USB, and cleared the screen. She hurried outside, closed the door, and latched the brass padlock, which clanked uncomfortably loud. As she crossed over from the back veranda, she ran into Kishan who, surprised by Carla, breathed something in Hindi. She smiled and said, “There you are, Kishan. I was just looking for you. I am desperate for a cup of Horlicks. I can’t sleep.”

Kishan looked at her for a split second, his expression puzzled, but then to Carla’s relief he smiled broadly and said, “No problem, Madam. I bring to your room.”

Once inside her room, Carla washed her face with cold water and, after staring at herself in the mirror for a minute, started laughing quietly. “I did it,” and then, with obvious triumph in her voice: “I did it!”

Kishan knocked and placed the cup of steaming Horlicks next to her bed on the pedestal. “Something else you need, Madam?”

“No thanks, Kishan. This is wonderful. I’m sure I’ll sleep like a baby now.”

“Good night Madam.”

“Good night, Kishan, and thank you.”

Carla sat on her bed, wanting to phone George and tell him about her victory, but she decided to wait until morning. Elouise called out softly to her as she knocked gently on her door. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes, come in—it’s unlocked.”

Elouise looked tired as she sat down at the foot of the bed. “Kishan said you couldn’t sleep?”

“I guess I slept too much this afternoon. How was the recital?”

With a sigh Elouise replied, “It was OK, but the kids were bored and started acting up. Harry was so annoyed that he insisted we come home at intermission.” A despondent look flitted across her face.

Suddenly, Carla felt desperately sorry for her friend and asked, “Is everything all right between you and Harry, Elouise?”

Elouise’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Oh, Carla, I wish I knew. I love him so much, but it is as if he wants to push me and the girls away. He has even suggested that we go back to the States without him.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

“No, I wish I did. He changed after we came back to India. The first few months were fine. It was like a great adventure for all of us, but then he just changed. He never has time for us anymore; he never stops working.”

Carla reached for her friend’s hand and held it tight. “Have you tried talking to him?”

Elouise grimaced. “And how. He’s not interested in talking. A couple of weeks ago he presented me and the girls with first class tickets back to the States. He said I should visit my parents and check out the schools for the girls.”

“What did you say?”

“We had a huge fight, and I told him that I was not going without him. We haven’t spoken about it again.” Elouise suddenly stood up and said, “I’m keeping you from your sleep. We’ll chat tomorrow, OK? Good night, my friend.”

She kissed Carla lightly on the cheeks and left.

An uneasy feeling of guilt and disquiet clutched Carla. She picked up her phone and sent a text message to George that she wouldn’t meet him the next day in Lodhi Garden. “I can’t do this,” she whispered softy to herself.

The idea of betraying Elouise became unbearable. If it hadn’t been for her support, years ago, Carla wouldn’t have had the guts to get to know her grandfather.

Carla shared a last name with a set of Indian twin girls in her economics class. They were curious to get to know Carla, as her appearance wasn’t obviously Indian. Delighted that her father was from Delhi, they introduced Carla to their parents, both medical doctors from India. Carla was often invited to their family dinners. At one of these dinners, she met a relative visiting from India. The middle-aged woman questioned Carla about her father and realized that they were related. She must have told Carla’s grandfather, because not long after this meeting, Carla received a rather formal introductory letter from him. Carla responded and a month later he flew over to meet his granddaughter. After their first meeting, Carla was confused and racked with guilt for not telling her father. Elouise advised her to continue meeting him and told her that an opportune time for telling her family would come later. Her grandfather, whose second wife had family in the States, visited her every year. Unfortunately, her paternal grandmother had passed away shortly after her parents got married. Her grandfather had remarried a year before Carla started college. His wife had accompanied him on his second visit. She was much younger than Carla’s grandfather and seemed sweet on the surface. It was Elouise who noticed the jealousy and the control she had over Carla’s grandfather. So when Carla suggested they join her in South Africa for the Christmas holidays and surprise her dad, her grandfather was, at first, excited, but then suddenly changed his mind after having discussed it with his new wife.