Bombay Mixx (19 page)

Gathering my thoughts and composure, I commented, ‘well, I would hope you would be painting me in a glowing light, unless you would like to receive a letter of complaint on your desk regarding unprofessional conduct and sexual harassment of an employee.’ He started laughing nervously.

‘How is it sexual harassment? You consented to this affair,’ he retorted as he pretended to flick through some papers on his desk.

I laughed and this distracted his attention, making him shift in his chair at my new confident state. ‘I did indulge in this affair; however, if I don’t want to go down the sexual harassment route then I would definitely like to go down the tabloid route! Airing all our dirty little encounters would be great for your reputation with
London
’s elite, wouldn’t it?! Think of it…one of your mistresses not being able to be silenced by you? Such a dent to your powerful appearance, right?!’ and with this assertion, I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket and pressed the call button.

Angus’s mouth dropped open as he got up to walk towards me. ‘Errr, I think you should stay where you are, don’t you? We wouldn’t want assault added to the list, would we?’ I asked smugly.

I walked through the door, not looking back as I wanted this feeling of victory to last.

And it did, all the way to the evening, when I agreed to go to a bar with Amelia and Anya to celebrate my new found determination.

‘This is to Neets and her new found strength to get rid of that nobhead and start meeting real men,’ Amelia announced as we all agreed and clinked our glasses.

Celebrating my new freedom came in the form of a lot of alcohol, interrogating Anya about Dolph and our thoughts and feelings about Tiziana.

‘I knew she wasn’t a PA, what did I tell you Neets?’ Amelia gloated as I nodded in agreement.

‘Did you hear how she treated Gabby when she joined her back at the guy’s flat?’ I asked, guessing that they hadn’t as they both put down their glasses in suspense.

I explained the story to gasps, shaking of heads and hands going up to tell me they couldn’t take anymore.

‘What a bitch. How could she stay when the guy did that to Gabby?’ Amelia shouted.

‘I told you she’s nasty,’ Anya added as she sipped her drink supremely.

She put her glass down to continue. ‘I heard one story about her, back in de 90s when she first started, that she told a client that she would give him a discount if he vonted to invite more friend’s to join. He obviously accepted and she ended up with five men. I don’t think she got more than a grand!’

Trust Anya to always bring it back to money!

Amelia couldn’t get her words out, so I thought I should try to say what she wanted to. ‘That’s disgusting! Is there anything she wouldn’t do for a quick buck?’ I asked not wanting to know the answer.

Anya shook her head and replied. ‘In the business, you have to be flexible, yes? But I have my rules and limits to keep some class, but she vould sell her own mother to get a Gucci bag.’

We all laughed at Anya’s last cutting comment, we all vowed to no longer associate with Tiziana, to organise a fantastic engagement party for Gabrielle and to find decent men, worthy of our remarkableness! 

Chapter Five – The
Past coming to haunt the present…will it affect the future?

The previous month was one of highs and lows!

All of us (minus Gabrielle) had major men troubles, which determined our paths for the following weeks. My mother and father were still separated, giving us no hope that this problem would be resolved any time soon, Renesh was still trying to fix his marriage whilst dealing with the guilt of his affair and I was successful in the interview for the position in Research and was blowing everyone away with my professionalism.

‘Babe, this is the beginning of your new “life” so welcome to Research and it’s just onwards and upwards from now,’ Sarah announced in her speech as we clinked glasses and celebrated my achievement at the bar near work.

I occasionally saw Angus in the corridors or meetings, however, our situation was laid to rest and I had no feelings towards him until I saw him flirting with the new secretaries or administrators, which made me feel sorry for them instead of being angry.

I had lost a few pounds in weight, changed my wardrobe and started feeling more optimistic about my future, so when dad offered to buy me dinner at my favourite restaurant after work, I jumped at the invite.

The restaurant was quiet, rustic and relaxing.

Candles in old wine bottles, Italian opera singers belting out dramatic pieces of work with an outstanding orchestra enhancing the words on a low setting in the background; smells of fresh herbs, succulent homemade sauces and spicy meats floating from the kitchen, bringing in curious revellers from the street. Dad sat alone in the corner with a glass of deep red wine, looking lonely and disheartened. ‘Hey dad, how’s it going?’ I asked with a big hug and a nod to the waiter as he came across with the speed of Bolt to show me the wine list.

I took off my coat to hang it on the back of the chair and picked up the menu like an eager child ready for my treat.

‘Not good Neets, I miss your mum and need her back,’ he replied as he choked back the tears to give the waiter our orders.

We awkwardly waited for him to leave before we continued, ‘I know she thinks I’ve cheated on her but I haven’t,’ he stated as we indulged in the garlic bread that the waiter sneaked onto the table. ‘Well, why didn’t you tell her dad?’ I asked.

He took a pause and protested, ‘she didn’t allow me the chance to explain and I was a bit angry that after all these years, she could think I would ever do that to her.’

Thoughts of my own experiences with infidelities came to mind. I wondered for a second why my mother didn’t believe my dad immediately but they were my parents and I believed my dad when he said he didn’t cheat, so I vowed to help him get mum back but first I needed to know what I was working with.

‘Dad, you know I will help you get back with mum but first of all I need you to stop being so secretive about your past and tell me about this woman on the phone, you know your first wife? What’s her problem?’ I inquired, whilst trying not to put too much pressure on him.

He took a deep breath, looked around and started. ‘I would never keep anything from you Nita. You are my beautiful daughter, who I adore and I always try to be open and honest with all my children so here it goes…you know I was married to a woman before your mother?’ he asked as I just nodded with a mouthful of warm bread.

Looking away as though it was hard for him to say whilst looking at me, he continued, ‘her name is Shampa and she was the daughter of my father’s friend from back home. The arrangement was for me to marry her so I could work over here, which I agreed to, but when I realised, after a few months of the marriage, that I wasn’t in love with her, I needed to get out. I told her I thought we should divorce but she wouldn’t agree to it. She started to hurt herself, threatened to tell the authorities it was a forced marriage, when I suggested separating or anything divorce related, and kept saying we could work things out but we were completely different and I knew I couldn’t go on with it. Eventually, to avoid the drama, I started to live a separate life. I moved into the spare room and after a few weeks of arguing about this, she accepted it. We married in January and by October I met your mother, moved out two months after and started divorce proceedings. There were a few protests, lies of pregnancies and threats from her but eventually I just ignored them and moved into a small flat with your mother and never looked back. Your grandmother never approved of me marrying your mother and disowned me, unless I agreed to get back with Shampa and that is everything to date.’

By this point, the main meal had come but I couldn’t take a bite.

I was in shock.

Although I knew about this woman, I didn’t know the extent of their married life. Separate bedrooms? Months of unhappiness? Self harm? I needed to know more as I started to feel sorry for her. ‘I can’t imagine how you coped with that dad,’ I said sympathetically as I held onto his hand to show my support, ‘but how do you know she was lying about being pregnant?’ I asked cautiously.

As he thought about it, he shook his head and replied, ‘I asked her for the proof and she couldn’t provide it.’

I didn’t want to push it any further, so I vowed to help him get mum back no matter how hard it might be and that I didn’t judge him for his past.

We tried to change the topic and attempted to finish the large courses my dad had ordered.

‘So, how is your new job going, Nita?’ my dad enquired as he beckoned the waiter for the cheque. ‘Really good thanks. It’s a bit more work but the money is good, the people are really nice and I get to network a bit more, so all in all I’m a happy bunny,’ I grinned.

‘That’s great hun, now all you need is a man in your life and I won’t have to worry about you as much anymore,’ he replied with a smile on his face.

I hated it when the conversation got to the, ‘relationship topic’!

I know our parents want the best for us but really does this topic always need to be shoved into a conversation if you’re single?

I tried my best not to look annoyed, especially as I was still a little raw about my Angus experience (no matter how much I protest otherwise), and with a shrug of the shoulders I replied, ‘dad, you know it’s not the 1950s and women can have a life without a man, right?’

Dad chuckled to himself as I always reminded him of mum, when I got my feminist stance on. He cupped my hands as he saw my cheeks going red, like I was going to have a tantrum in the middle of town, when I was a toddler and said gently, ‘I know you can survive by yourself Nita. You’re my strong little button but I want to see you happy with someone who can make you as happy as your mother makes me…that is why I mentioned you to Kumar. You remember him, right? We used to work together and then he went off to open his own restaurant?’

I didn’t like where this was going.

You see, my father always saw himself as, let’s say, a Cilla Black type of person, who believed every single man and woman should have a partner and he was the one to find them.

Now, after many disastrous dates for Renesh, tantrums from Gabrielle, I was usually quite safe…until now it seems!

I moved my hands away in preparation for the horror that he was about to show me.

He pulled a picture from his pocket, turned it over and handed it to me.

‘Before you look at it, I know your brother and sister have told you the tales of all the “horrific” dates they have been on from my meddling but I have learnt from these mistakes and I really think you will like Yatin,’ he pleaded as I turned the picture over slowly and held it under the light.

I was speechless.

He wasn’t what I was expecting at all.

He looked around 5”11, maybe 6”0, dark, short, styled hair, athletic body, which was encased in a designer grey suit, a smile that was created for a toothpaste advert and green eyes that could have me staring, dreamily into them for years.

‘He’s 32, works in stocks and shares but he’s a good boy cos he also helps out with the books at his father’s restaurant. Never married, no children, he has bought his own flat in Mill Hill, and he drives a nice car,’ my dad continued, trying his best to sell him to me.

I didn’t tell him I was already sold from the picture, so I tried to play it cool and managed to stammer, ‘he looks nice. I wouldn’t say no if he wanted to go for a drink,’ and with that we left the restaurant with determination in our eyes and goals of getting my mum and dad back together and improving my fading love life with this Bollywood prince, Yatin.