Authors: Joya Victoria
Derek sat slumped in the chair, as if all life had been drained from him. “I love her, you know, Charu,” he said in a hoarse voice. “And I don’t want to lose her.”
“I fully understand that,” Charu replied with an edge to her voice. “But there is a limit to what a person can and will tolerate.”
“Have you mentioned to her that you loved her?”
Derek avoided answering that. Instead he said, “I know, and I always seem to bungle it!”
If Charu only knew the rest. He stared at the wall with a vacant look.
“You seemed to have bungled with” she stopped, “with Hannah too, Derek,” Charu carried on, quite ruthless in her remarks. She did not care, her friend was being hurt.
She knows, Derek thought, astounded. Well, why ever not? Charles must have told her.
Derek looked up, slightly bemused at Charu’s outburst. How much she had changed after her marriage!
They were still in the hallway, near the telephone, neither having moved.
“Do you still play the piano?” Charu inquired, changing the subject and trying to humor him a little.
Derek looked at her, a pained look in his eyes. “Sometimes,” he muttered under his breath.
“Play something for me now, Derek, please.” She gestured toward the piano. Derek remembered his mother playing often in the evenings. He could never forget the music that used to mesmerize him in his childhood. Music was food to him. He often played the piano, got lost in the music. That was his solace, besides drinking of course.
Derek stood up.
This Derek liked the most: the piano, the room that was very sparsely furnished but held a lot of memory for him. His mother, playing the piano, his mother teaching him to play. He had carried on with various tutors in England, and playing still gave him tremendous pleasure.
“Charu,” he said hoarsely, “would you mind very much if I play the piano on my own?”
This evening he did not want an audience. He so wanted to be on his own and play, and keep on playing.
“Of course,” she said. She left the room, softly closing the door behind her and feeling very sorry for him. “Poor guy,” she thought to herself. She knew that Derek had fallen head over heels in love with Mira, but his past was dogging him. Charu was in a dilemma—should she tell her friend? She loved her friend, and she was very fond of Derek. The best thing to do would be to discuss it with Charles. He would know what to do. After all, Derek was his friend, and the friendship went back a long, long way.
She was looking forward to lunch with Mira, a friendly, chatty lunch. The fish curry at the club was very popular and apparently extremely tasty. That’s what she had been told. The cook took pride in his fish curry; she must try it! Apparently his fame had spread far and wide. It would be a girlie lunch; no men were allowed. They had so much to talk about! But she was unhappy. She did not want to see her friend hurt.
“What an egotist!” she said aloud to no one in particular.
She wished she had not introduced Mira to this man. What a mistake that had been. But how was she to know? She had to do
something to put things right. She would advise her friend to forget Derek and go back home, that she was barking up the wrong tree and she would be an old maid if she hung onto the hope of Derek ever marrying her.
She was looking forward to seeing Mira, the lovely Mira, her childhood friend.
8
WHAT SHOULD SHE
wear? This was Mira’s primary thought. Something light, which would keep her cool, and look sophisticated. A light sleeveless summer dress and sandals. Smiling to herself, she picked up her sunglasses and was out the door of course after a quick peck on the cheek for Aunt. She had to comply with the pleasantries.
“What the hell,” she thought to herself. She would soon be at the club. To drive five miles was child’s play for her now. Charu had offered to send a vehicle to fetch her or to fetch her on her way, but Miranda declined the offer, preferring to drive herself and to be without any constraints. She did not want to depend on them to bring her back; if she wanted to leave earlier, she could. She did not know how the lunch would go or how long she wanted to spend in Charu’s company. So driving herself to the club was better, and she could make a hasty retreat if necessary.
Thankfully the rains had stopped, a respite for a few hours, the tail end of the monsoons. And it was considerably cooler. This was not bad for driving, Miranda mused. Mira hit the not-so-dusty road. The dust had settled, and instead there were puddles in the road. The hot road of a few days ago was rather pleasant to drive now. The dust had settled and the heat was a lot less, but it was quite close and humid. By now the layout of the road was familiar to her. How many times had she traveled on this road? Countless. With her uncle and aunt and with Derek. The thought of Derek brought back the longing to see him, the desire to be with him. She was tired of going over and
over it again and again, analyzing things, analyzing his behavior. She felt a lump in her throat. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. She was unable to stop herself. Was she depressed? Was she expecting too much? Was this how the so-called sophisticated people carried on? She was confused.
Managing to park on the side of the road, she got a hankie out and wiped the tears. She was determined not to let Charu see her crying or even any remnants of tears. Mira touched up her makeup, combed her hair, and she was ready. She was very thirsty. Thank God Dolly always gave her a bottle of water to carry. Taking the bottle out of the cloth bag, she took a big swig of the not-so-very-cold water. At least it quenched her thirst for the time being. She decided she would order a large cold no, chilly beer when she arrived for her lunch. A hazy sunshine was trying to peek from behind the gray clouds. Any moment now the heavens would burst and the rain would start again.
She saw a car coming in the opposite direction very fast, and she had to swerve onto the grass verge to avoid an accident. Mira came to a sudden stop.
“What the hell,” she muttered to herself, getting hotter by the minute. “Who was that?” She felt her heart stop, and her throat was absolutely parched. She could have been killed. “What the hell,” she thought to herself again. Mira tried the door handle to get out, but she could hardly crawl out, and immediately her legs gave way. She fell by the grass verge.
The unexpected occurrence of being run off the road had shaken her terribly. Sheer terror was reverberating throughout her entire being. She was perspiring profusely from nervousness.
The other car stopped a little way away, and Mira turned her head slightly and looked. A sudden fear gripped her. She became terrified. She was ready to plead for her life! She did not want to die, not just yet. She would leave tomorrow for England, anything to get away from the person who was coming toward her, who had nearly succeeded in killing her a few moments ago. There was nothing to save her now! However, a few villagers were starting to gather around her. Thank God for that. Where could she hide? The woman driving the other car had already seen her. Oh God! She would beg her to
spare her. She did not want Derek, let the other woman have him. She wanted to get away in one piece.
Hannah was approaching, quickly, running, in fact! Mira had wild thoughts churning inside her mind, thinking that Hannah could not wait to get her she had purposely tried to cause an accident and hurt her.
“Good God,” Mira thought. “She’s coming toward me!” What was she to do? Duck? What a silly idea. There was no avoiding her now. She was getting pretty close. “My God, she tried to kill me! Why?”
Mira panicked. She screamed, “Please don’t kill me!”
“So sorry.” Hannah had reached her by then. “So very sorry, Mira,” she said with genuine feeling. She really felt sorry for what she had done. There could have been a fatal accident. Mira gave a wry smile. There was nothing else to do. Hannah crouched down and put her arms around Mira’s shoulder to help her up. The latter burst into tears.
“Come, on,” she said, “you are not in a fit state to drive.” She helped Mira up and walked her toward her vehicle.
“Where were you off to?” she inquired. “Let me drive you.”
“But the car?” Mira said under her breath, lost for words, shaken, and in a state of shock.
This woman was in a state of shock. Lord, what had she done? She helped Miranda up, slowly, ever so slowly. No broken bones.
“Can you stand? Slowly does it.” By now there were so many people around them. This was the East, and there was always someone to help.
“Don’t worry about the car. Someone will pick it up,” Hannah said, very confident. She managed to get the other girl into her car with the help of some villagers, and they were on their way.
The rain had started again. Except for the sound of the rain, there was silence all around, giving the ride an eerie feeling. Nobody was out except for some kids playing in the little canal by the side of the road. The canal had swollen in size, and the water was flowing very fast. The children were in and out of the canal, gleefully having a wonderful time.
“This canal,” Hannah said, trying to make small talk, “is so full of water. I hope it doesn’t burst its banks. I love the monsoon,” she
added. Miranda was silent, watching her rescuer. So she did not want to kill her after all. Why was she so paranoid?
“The club?” Hannah inquired. Mira nodded. Turning the car around, Hannah drove in silence, deep in thought. She wanted to ask so many questions but could not bring herself to do so. It was not the appropriate place, and after this, this awful incident, she would bide her time. Hannah had been wanting to talk to Mira for a very long time, but the opportunity had not come. God and fate were instrumental in this, this sudden meeting, in a funny sort of way. She had a lot to tell this girl, to warn her, and she was determined to do so. She was not being bitchy, mind you. It was just that Mira should know something about Derek’s past. But not this way! There were so many other ways they could have met and talked. But now, James needed to be contacted. Maybe Mira could lie down in one of the rooms until James arrived. He needed to examine Miranda to see all was well.
A small sneaky thought crept up. What was Mira muttering about, “Don’t kill me!” Had Hannah been portrayed as a femme fatale? Was Derek the culprit? Why? The bastard.
By the time they rolled into the club it was pretty late. Charu was sitting in one of the wicker chairs in the veranda impatiently looking out for Mira. She was about to go and telephone Dolly when Hannah drove in.
“Quick,” Hannah said, flushed and breathless as she came rushing in. “We had a slight accident.”
Charu ran to get help.
“Mira is in a state of shock. Can you get hold of the porters to give us a hand? And oh, Charu, get hold of James, please, will you?”
Miranda was helped out of Hannah’s car. She felt much better once she was indoors, slightly revived. Declining the offer to lie down, she went and sank into one of the many easy chairs. By this time there was a crowd surrounding her, the members, porters running around, some bringing water, some bringing ice, sudden activity in the sleepy club.
“James?” Suddenly they all wanted James. Where was James? Had anybody informed James?
Miranda was feeling much better by this time. She did not need James, but he had already been informed and was on his way posthaste! Apparently a servant had been out already, peddling furiously toward the cottage hospital.
“What happened?” Charu cautiously asked Hannah when things started to quiet down a bit.
“A slight accident. My fault,” Hannah answered.
Mira was quite alert by then.
Charu had planned a long chat with Mira, but this had to be shelved for the moment. Hannah volunteered to drive Mira home after lunch and after she had been checked by the doctor, but nobody paid any attention to her. She quietly made her way toward the bar leaving Mira in the capable of hands of Charu.
Hannah desperately wanted to be left alone. She wanted a drink. What had she done? The entire incident could be and would be misconstrued by the others, and especially by Derek himself. Who would believe her? Ordering a cold chilled beer, Hannah made her way toward the darkest part of the big cool bar. Nobody would see her there, and she would be left well alone. With that, she sank into a comfortable chair and stretched her long brown legs. She was deep in thought. She felt miserable. She must go and have a look to see that all was well; otherwise tongues would wag and who could tell?
She remembered the first time she met Charu. It was in India, and she was still with Derek. They had made a foursome. Such a long time ago, it seemed ages now. She had heard that Charu had married Charles, her childhood sweetheart. Nobody had objected to their marriage. Her eyes became slightly misty. It had all happened such a long time ago; they were happy days, fun days, never-to-come-back days. She and Derek, they were an item.
The waiter brought her beer to her. “Anything to eat, memsahib?”
“No thank you, Salil,” she replied, “and please don’t tell anybody that I am here.”
“Jee, memsahib” and with that the waiter softly padded away.
She leaned forward and took a swig of the chilled beer. She felt comfortable. She could feel the beer trickling down her gullet, and a feeling of contentment overcame her.
Hannah sank further down into her chair and rested her feet on the footstool. Various thoughts, thoughts she had no control over—why, when, and if only came rushing in. The poor girl, why did she have to get entangled with Derek, of all people? Of course he had that affect on women and even Hannah had been mesmerized by him. But she had gotten out of it; she was strong. But Mira was a simple girl, an innocent, sweet girl. She would be devastated. She took another swig.
“Oh God,” she said to herself, “Why do I have to mull over past incidences? A mistake is a mistake, but that was a very expensive mistake. There’s no going back and rectifying that mistake.” She tried hard to brush off the past. Mulling over what could have been, the uncertainty of life brought on a rancid taste in her mouth.