Don't Let Him Know (17 page)

She laughed and shook her hand. ‘What? I just barely put it on.’

‘No, give it back. It’s mine,’ he said, reaching out.

She laughed and stood up holding her hand above his head. ‘Get it,’ she taunted.

‘Give it,’ he said, trying to yank her hand down.

‘Careful, it will break,’ she said, slipping out of his grasp.

‘Don’t break it,’ he cried agitatedly.

‘Stop pulling my hand then,’ she said, waving her hand at him and grinning.

Just then Mangala walked into the room and said, ‘What is all this noise?’

‘Mangala-di,’ complained Amit, whirling around, ‘Durga won’t give my watch back.’

‘What? Give it back at once,’ said Mangala.

Durga hesitated. Seeing her hesitation, her grandmother stepped forward and cuffed her on the head. ‘Give it back, I said. Why are you playing with other people’s things? Haven’t I told you a hundred times to stay out of trouble?’

Durga scowled and pulled the watch off and handed it to Amit. Amit hurriedly put it on. Mangala looked at him for a moment and then told Durga sharply, ‘If you have nothing better to do than create trouble you can go wash the dishes. And send Amit upstairs to sleep.’ With that she turned around and left.

Amit and Durga stood there looking at each other. Finally Durga said, ‘I have to go’ and started walking towards the door.

‘Wait,’ said Amit.

She turned around.

‘I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,’ he said quietly. She said nothing.

‘Look,’ he replied, ‘you can wear my watch for a little while longer. I won’t mind.’

‘I don’t want your stupid watch,’ she said. But she didn’t leave.

‘We can play dress-up if you like,’ Amit pleaded.

Durga said nothing.

‘Meena-pishi has lots of old lipsticks. I’ll get you one,’ said Amit.

She shrugged. But she stayed.

One afternoon after lunch Amit was going downstairs with his colouring book in search of Durga when his mother stopped him. ‘Amit, Amit where are you off to?’

‘To find Durga,’ he replied. ‘We are going to draw.’

‘Oh,’ said Romola. ‘I forgot to tell you. Durga can’t play with you today. I want her to help me make fish chops. Your father really likes them and I thought it would be a treat for your aunt as well.’

‘What treat is that?’ asked his aunt coming out of her room.

‘Fish chops. I was telling Amit not to bother Durga. I need her to help me make the filling.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know you needed Durga. I should have checked with you. I needed to get my blouses picked up. The tailoring shop said they would be done today. And my shawl that I gave in for dry-cleaning as well. I had asked Durga if she could get them for me.’

At that moment Durga came up the stairs dressed in one of her two going-out frocks.

‘Durga,’ said Romola. ‘Did you completely forget about my fish chops?’

Durga said, ‘But Meena-didi asked me to . . .’

‘I had already told you about the chops yesterday.’ Romola frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell Meena-didi that?’

Durga stood stricken looking from one woman to the other.

‘Can your brother pick them up tomorrow?’ Romola asked Meena placatingly. ‘Or the day after tomorrow I want to go shopping at New Market. Maybe I can pick them up then.’

‘No no, the tailor is going away. Don’t you remember? I told you that. That’s all right. I’ll just go myself. I am sorry, I had no idea you needed Durga now.’

Durga looked at Romola silently.

‘No, no. It’s not important,’ said Romola though she looked annoyed. ‘I’ll manage. Durga, you go do what Meena-didi needs.’

‘Here, Durga, let me give you something for your bus fare and a little extra.’ Meena-pishi opened her handbag and pulled out several notes.

‘There’s no need for that. I’ll give her bus fare,’ Romola said a little sharply putting her hand on Meena-pishi’s arm.

‘I insist,’ said Meena-pishi with a smile. Durga stood frozen between the two. Eventually Romola just dropped her hand. Durga took the money and walked out of the room.

‘Maybe we can make the chops together, the two of us,’ said Meena-pishi brightly after Durga had left the room. ‘I can teach you my mother’s recipe. It was Avinash’s favourite.’

‘Of course,’ said Romola politely. ‘But I had wanted to treat you to my recipe, the way my mother used to make them.’

Amit knew someone would notice it sooner or later. He was actually surprised it took as long as it did. He was sitting near the window drawing in his sketchbook when his aunt came in from her bath. Towelling her hair vigorously she said, ‘Amit, what time is it?’

‘I don’t know,’ shrugged Amit without looking up from his drawing book.

‘What do you mean?’ said his aunt, still rubbing her head with the towel. ‘Where is that watch of yours? It was like a second skin.’

Amit did not say anything.

‘Huh?’ said his aunt. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve gone and lost it.’

‘Umm, I don’t know,’ he said looking up.

‘Really, Amit, you had better find it and find it soon. Otherwise you know how upset your mother is going to be.’

‘I know,’ said Amit miserably.

‘Where could it go? It can’t just fly away. When did you see it last?’

‘I don’t know,’ stammered Amit. ‘Maybe yesterday. Or the day before.’

‘Day before yesterday?’ cried his aunt. ‘And you haven’t said a word about it. Have you looked for it even? Does your mother know?’

‘I looked,’ Amit said defensively.

‘Have you searched under the bed? Maybe it fell there. Did you ask Durga or Mangala if they found anything while sweeping the floor?’

Amit shook his head and said, ‘No, but they would tell me if they found it.’

‘But have you even told them you can’t find it? I have seen how that Durga sweeps. A little jab here and a little jab there. The dust just stays right where it is.’

Amit said, ‘Well, I’ll ask her to look for it. Properly. She likes that watch a lot too.’

‘Does she?’ said his aunt. ‘I hope you find it. Otherwise you know you will be in big trouble.’

When Amit came back from the park that evening he knew the cat was out of the bag. His mother came downstairs with a pinched expression on her face. She saw him, frowned and said, ‘Amit, why didn’t you tell me your watch was missing?’

‘What?’ said Amit.

‘Yes, yes,’ said Romola sharply ‘I overheard your aunt telling Doctor Basu on the phone. This is my house, after all. I need to know if something is missing. I cannot have thieves and robbers living under my roof eating my rice.’

‘Oh, Romola,’ said his aunt appearing on the landing behind his mother. ‘I would have told you. It’s not such a big deal.’

‘I am sure it is not for you,’ said his mother turning around. ‘But that is not the point. You practically grew up in this house. I can’t have you thinking it’s turned into a den of thieves now that your aunt is gone.’

‘I never said that, Romola,’ his aunt replied, sounding tired.

‘I know what you said. You said this would have never happened in your aunt’s time. I am not my mother-in-law. But I can discipline the servants too.’ She came down the stairs rapidly and shouted, ‘Mangala, Mangala, where are you?’

Mangala emerged from the kitchen, saying, ‘What is the matter?’

‘Where is that granddaughter of yours?’ said Romola.

‘Now what has she done?’ said Mangala wearily.

‘We will soon know,’ said Romola, her tone grim. ‘Remember Amit’s new watch – the American watch? I hear your granddaughter took a fancy to it. Now it’s gone. Gone for two days, apparently. But no one bothers to tell me. Something disappears in my own house and I’m the last to know.’

‘What are you saying, Bouma?’ said Mangala, aghast. ‘My Durga might be a little hot-headed but she is no thief. Why, the other day while sweeping she found a coin and picked it up and gave it to you.’

‘This is no coin,’ said Romola. ‘This is an American watch. More expensive than six months’ pay.’

‘Well, I am sure there is some other explanation.’

‘I hope so. And I will get it out of that girl.’

‘Ma,’ said Amit feebly, ‘I think I might have lost it somewhere.’

‘It cannot just fall off your wrist,’ said his mother. ‘And I tell you – if you can’t take care of expensive things, you shouldn’t wear them.’

‘Romola,’ protested his aunt. ‘Let’s not get too carried away.’

‘Really, Meena, perhaps things like that are fine in your Boston,’ his mother shot back. ‘Why give it to boys here so that others can die of envy?’

‘But—’ said Amit.

His mother cut him short. ‘Come upstairs, Amit, and wash your hands.’

The she turned to Mangala and said, ‘As soon as that girl gets home send her to me.’

‘I will, I will,’ grumbled Mangala. ‘We are poor. But never have I taken a ten paisa that was not mine.’

As soon as Durga came home, Amit wanted to run to her. But his mother got to her first. He could hear her raised voice, sharp as a knife, cutting through the summer air.

‘Meena-pishi,’ he said fearfully looking at his aunt as she sat reading the newspaper.

His aunt just shook her head and said, ‘I told you to take more care of that watch.’

Amit hung his head.

Just then he heard his mother at the foot of the stairs. ‘Come down, Amit. I want you to see for yourself.’

He glanced at his aunt. She said, ‘Go on’ and nodded towards the door. He opened it slowly and looked down the stairs. His mother was standing downstairs, gripping Durga by the elbow. Durga’s face was dark with anger. Or was it fear? Mangala stood behind them with her hand on her head.

Amit started down the stairs though he felt his feet were made of lead. He could see the cracks on the steps. Each looked big enough to swallow him. He saw a big black ant crawling up. It disappeared into a crack. He glanced up and saw Durga looking at him baffled and sullen.

His mother took Durga to the little room at the bottom of the stairs. She pushed the old green door open and shoved the girl inside. He could see the rolled-up mattreses where Durga and Mangala slept. There was a little pitcher of water in the corner and a small picture of the goddess after whom the girl was named. On an old rack on the side hung some of Mangala’s white saris and a couple of dresses. In one corner were Durga’s favourite red-and-gold slippers. The gold was fading but it was still the brightest splash of colour in the room. At the other end of the room was a battered suitcase.

‘That,’ said his mother pointing at the suitcase. ‘Open that.’

‘Why?’ said Durga sharply. ‘Those are my things.’

‘Your things?’ retorted his mother. ‘I will show you your things. Living off my charity and a big mouth too. Open it at once.’

‘This is too much,’ protested Mangala.

‘Mangala, this girl will come to no good because you don’t discipline her enough. I hear people speak about how she’s been talking to the next-door driver in the alleyway. And I think – it’s not my daughter, not my business. But now it is my business: open that suitcase.’

Durga flashed a look at her and slowly walked over to the suitcase. She snapped it open and held it out. ‘See,’ she said.

There was not much in it – old containers of cold cream. Some bangles and hair clips. A little locket. Some small boxes and cans, their labels long faded away.

‘Look at all those cosmetics,’ said Romola trying to snatch the suitcase out of Durga’s grasp. Durga jerked her hand away. The suitcase fell – the contents tumbling on to the floor. Little containers rolled under the rack. A necklace tore as it fell, the beads scattering on the floor like fat grains of rice. One of the plastic containers popped open and its contents rolled across the floor towards Romola.

Durga lunged after it but Romola grabbed it first.

‘What’s this?’ she said, picking it up. ‘Lipstick. Just a girl and make-up already!’ She held it up to the light and said, ‘Oh my goodness, this is a Revlon. Isn’t this yours, Meena?’ Amit stared at the lipstick as his mother unscrewed it – it was almost all gone. The coral tip poked out of the coppery container like a stubby crayon.

Meena-pishi who had been watching the unfolding drama silently was suddenly galvanized as if she had received an electric shock.

‘Oh, it is mine,’ she said. ‘Though it was almost finished. I was about to throw it out anyway. But how did she get it?’ Now she too started looking through Durga’s possessions. ‘And my old Maybelline eyebrow pencil,’ she said picking it up from the floor. ‘Have you been rummaging through my things?’

‘I didn’t take them,’ protested Durga looking at Amit.

‘Then how did they come here? Did they grow wings?’ demanded Meena-pishi.

‘But it’s not the watch,’ said Mangala.

‘She’s probably sold it on the black market. What else have you taken?’ demanded Romola.

‘I swear I didn’t steal anything,’ said Durga. Much of her defiance had drained away from her by now. ‘I thought you were done with those cosmetics. I was just playing with them. I thought Meena-didi had thrown them away.’