Secret Keeper (18 page)

“Why aren’t more coming?” Grandmother asked. “We’re a good family. And she’s still a lovely girl. Plenty of boys these days don’t require a large dowry, or any at all. What about that Mitra fellow who wanted to marry her some time back?”

“He won’t have anything to do with her. Apparently …” Auntie hesitated. “There’s some terrible gossip going around town. I only hope it doesn’t get to Madras before the marriage is fixed.”

“Gossip?” Ma asked quickly. “About us?”

“About the train ‘accident.’ ”

“If you mean that people are implying it wasn’t an accident, then say that, please. I can’t afford to play games. This is my daughter’s future we’re talking about.”

“All right, then. That’s what they’re saying. That the girls’ father was mentally unstable, gave up, took his own life.”

Reet grabbed Asha’s salwar to restrain her. “Ma’s handling it,” she hissed, and Asha subsided.

“My husband died
accidentally.”
Ma’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was so full of anger that Asha felt like applauding. This was their mother in full glory with no sign of the Jailor, at least for now.

“Well, nobody around here wants to risk bringing that kind of instability into their family line,” Auntie said. “I’m afraid it’s going to hinder my own daughters’ chances when the time comes for them to receive proposals.”

Grandmother spoke up. “If we start acting as if something else might be true, we’ll end up feeding this terrible gossip instead of stopping it. Let’s wait awhile before accepting this proposal. Maybe something else will arrive for our Shona. In the meantime, hold your head high, Sumitra. My son was a good man. He would never have done that to us.”

“I know, I know. Now, where are those daughters of mine?”

Hurriedly, the girls grabbed their buckets and backed away from the door. When their mother came out to find them, they tried their best to seem as though they were just strolling up the garden path.

Ma scanned their faces. “Did you hear our conversation?” she asked.

“What conversation?” Asha asked.

“We were washing our rags, Ma,” Reet added.

“I hope so,” Ma said sternly. “Now come inside and stir this paneer while I run to the bathroom and change my own cloth. It’s my time, too, believe it or not.”

Asha stayed in the kitchen while her sister stirred. “What do you think?”

Reet shrugged. “At least Ma sounded like herself. That’s good.”

“Yes, but what about Mr. Madras with the sickly sister-in-law?”

Reet handed her sister the wooden spoon and reached for the peas. “Here, you stir. I’ll shell these. Listen, I have to trust Uncle. He and Grandmother and Ma will make the right choice for me. What else can I do? Everything Auntie said is true-except for the part about Baba, of course. A girl like me doesn’t get to pick and choose.”

Asha scooped and turned the paneer so it wouldn’t burn. “Well, the good news is that Ma was right there speaking up for you. And Grandmother sounds reasonable, too. Let’s hope for the best.” She put down the spoon and wiped her hands on a towel.

“Where are you going, Osh?”

“Er … up to the roof.”

“Not yet, sister of mine. It’s only been two days.”

“Are you keeping a record now?”

“No, but the little girls are. I’ve caught them on the roof twice now when you’re not there. They’re definitely snooping. ‘Why does Tunidi come up here so much?’ they asked me. ‘She likes to write in her diary,’ I told them. But you haven’t written much lately, have you?”

“No, not much. He’s waiting for me, though, Reet. I know it.”

“Let him wait. It’s good for him.”

Asha sighed. “How’s
my
story going to end, Reet?”

“I have no idea. Hopefully, we’ll both live happily ever after.”

I'm going to make sure we do,
Asha thought as their mother returned to start peeling potatoes.

TWENTY-SEVEN

N
O OTHER PROPOSALS CAME FOR
R
EET.
M
A DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING
to her daughters directly, but Asha noticed that their mother made sure Reet was always dressed in a good saree and that she opened the curtains as wide as they could go. Weeks went by, and the girls heard nothing more about the potential husband in Madras. Reet stayed calm, as though she really trusted her uncle and grandmother, but Asha’s anxiety grew daily.

“We’ve been in Calcutta for more than a year now,” Asha told her sister one night when the twins were asleep. The hot season was coming again and the ceiling fan whirled overhead; it was easier to talk under the sound of it.

“More than a year since we saw Baba’s face,” Reet said wistfully. “I’m eighteen now, Osh. My birthday was last month.”

“Oh, Reet, I’m sorry. I totally forgot. Of course, we couldn’t celebrate it.”

“We forgot yours, too, in December. Who cares about birthdays, anyway?”

“I remembered it was mine that evening. And I thought about how Baba always gave me a new diary.”

“I’d have gotten you one if I could, Osh. But you haven’t written in your old one much, it’s probably only half full.”

“I know. I’m seventeen, Reet. That sounds so grown up, doesn’t it?” She wanted to add:
The proof is that when I'm on the roof, and sense Jay's eyes on me, my whole body aches for him
…

Her roof visits were fewer and farther between, and although Jay complained, he understood that they couldn’t chance getting caught. Besides, lately he was missing again, cloistered in the servants’ quarters, immersed once more in finishing a painting. This time he’d told Asha before disappearing, which she’d appreciated.

“Ma seems a bit better these days,” Reet said. “Don’t you think?”

“A bit. But she hates it here so much.”

“Maybe Mr. Madras will let you move in with me.”

“Sounds like he’s got a mother of his own,” Asha answered. “And a brother with a wife and a son. They won’t want two more stomachs to fill.”

“If he’s as rich as Auntie made him sound …”

“I doubt it. Anyway, rich people can be stingier than anybody. We have no idea what this man is really like, Reet.”

“Uncle said he’ll travel there to meet them before arranging the marriage. He’ll do the right thing, Osh.”

“I wish I could go with him,” Asha said. “Hey, maybe Raj could go.”

“That’s a great idea! We’ll ask him to be our spy. We can definitely trust good old Raj.”

When his cousins asked him to accompany his father on a fact- finding mission to Madras, Raj agreed immediately. “You can be sure I’ll go. I’ll get the true story about this fellow, don’t you worry.”

Asha felt better after that. She did trust Raj; he had proved himself more than once.

One night after dinner, Uncle did that throat- clearing thing that Asha had come to recognize. It meant he wanted to talk about something big.

“No other proposals have come in for Shona,” he announced. “And this man in Madras is growing tired of waiting for our answer. What should I tell him?”

“Is it time to take a trip and meet him?” Grandmother suggested.

“Train tickets cost money,” Auntie said. “We should accept the proposal first. Then maybe
he'll
send the ticket.”

“What?” Ma asked. “Accept the proposal sight unseen? We can’t do that. The girls’ father would certainly never have acted in such a careless manner.”

Grandmother tilted her head in agreement. “She’s right. Bintu wouldn’t have done that.”

“So what do we do?” Auntie asked. “It’s not as if she’s got other choices. And believe me, we’ve tried hard to get another proposal, but nobody seems interested.”

“Okay, then,” Uncle said, sighing. “I’ll take a trip to Madras and meet the man face to face.”

Auntie looked grim. “Maybe he’ll reimburse the ticket if you agree to the match.”

“Maybe,” Uncle said. “But I have to meet him first. It’s what my brother would have done.”

“Baba, can I join you on the trip?” Raj asked.

“No, Beta, we certainly don’t have money for two tickets,” Auntie said.

“I’ve got some money of my own saved up-gifts from
your
parents, Ma,” he said. “I’d like to use it for this.”

“What? Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never seen Madras, and I’ve been studying so hard, it might be nice to take a trip with Baba.”

Uncle looked pleased. “I’d enjoy your company, in fact,” he said. “And your marks have been top- notch. Okay, it’s settled, then. I’ll book two tickets to Madras tomorrow and we’ll go over the weekend.”

Asha leaned closer to her cousin and whispered, “I’ll pay you back.”

“No, you won’t,” Raj answered in a low voice. “I’m dying to see the man with my own eyes. I’m happy to pay such a low price for a treat like that.”

While Uncle and Raj were gone that weekend, Asha risked a trip up to the roof, but there was no sign of Jay Instead Suma and Sita finally discovered her.

“Tunidi!” they cried as they rushed through the door. “We found you!”

“Where’s your diary?” asked Suma.

“We want to read it!” said Sita.

Asha tried hard not to let the dismay show on her face. “I just came up for some air, girls. Now, come down with me. The walls are low up here, and it’s time to do schoolwork.”
Thank goodness Jay wasn't there,
she thought.
I'd have a lot of explaining to do about the fairy tale I've been living.

After three long days, Raj and his father returned from their trip just in time for dinner.

“How was he?” Grandmother asked eagerly after they’d washed their hands and feet and settled down to eat. “Is he a good match?”

“He seemed like it to me,” Uncle said. “Tall, fair, well educated, well- spoken. Not exactly handsome, perhaps, but then neither was I.”

Auntie smiled. “
I
thought you were handsome,” she said.

“You were very handsome,” Grandmother said. “Both my boys were.” She wiped a tear from her cheek with the end of her saree.

Asha took stock of her cousin’s expression. Why was Raj frowning?

“But about this boy in Madras,” Ma said. “Will he make a good husband for Shona?”

“The charts match them up nicely,” Uncle said. “The university people spoke highly of him, and the neighbors told me he was quiet and kept to himself. That’s good, right?”

“That’s excellent,” Auntie said. “A man who’s a
busybody is just as bad as a woman who gossips. If not worse. What about the house?”

“It wasn’t as big as I’d hoped, a bit smaller than ours, but it was clean.”

“What did you think, Raj?” Asha asked.

“I already told Baba what I think,” Raj said. “Will you tell them, Baba, or shall I?”

“Oh, that small thing. That’s nothing for your aunt and cousins to worry about. The boy thinks he knows more than the stars.”

“We should know everything,” Ma said, turning to Grandmother. “Every doubt, every question.”

Grandmother nodded. “Tell us, Bontu.”

Uncle scanned the eagerly listening faces, his own two daughters included. “Oh, we’ll tell you later. It’s nothing, anyway. Right now, I’m starving. The hotel we stayed in served dirt instead of food. I’ve missed this good cooking.” He gestured at one of Ma’s signature dishes, chickpeas and potatoes, which he obviously loved, since he always took four helpings.