Take One Arranged Marriage… (11 page)

With a slight shock Vikram realised how little effort he’d made to get to know her friends, or even her likes and dislikes. Almost any person selected at random from the gathering around them probably knew the real Tara better
than he did. Almost any person selected at random also had probably spent more waking hours with her than he had.

His guilt only deepened when Tara asked worriedly, ‘Did Dr Shanta say something you didn’t like? I saw you frowning after she went away—she can be really blunt sometimes.’

Vikram shook his head, and then, ‘Something she said reminded me of Vijay,’ he said. He saw Tara tense up immediately.

‘I’m sorry—’ she started to say, but Vikram put a hand over hers for a brief second.

‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘I’ve no idea why I reacted so strongly. It seems to be getting worse with time, not better. For the first couple of years after Vijay died I managed fine—at least in public—but now I can’t stop thinking about him.’

There was a brief pause. Vikram had ended up saying more than he’d intended, and had begun to regret it.

Tara was silent as she turned over Vikram’s last statement in her head. ‘But you can’t help it, right?’ she asked. ‘You can’t force yourself to stop thinking about Vijay, and you shouldn’t. It isn’t natural, not thinking about him. And there aren’t any time limits to grief, are there?’ She flushed as Vikram turned to
look at her. ‘Sorry. I’ll shut up. It’s not like I know anything about it.’

‘I think I said this to you the day we met—you apologise too often,’ Vikram said. ‘None of this is your fault.’

Of course it wasn’t, Tara thought, but sometimes Vikram behaved as if it was his. It sounded as if he didn’t feel he had the right to grieve for his brother, and that was just plain wrong. Unwilling to let the topic slide, she asked, ‘What was Vijay like?’

Vikram smiled unexpectedly. ‘You’d have liked him,’ he said. ‘He was so full of life. There were always a hundred things he’d be trying to do at once. He looked quite a lot like me, but he was shorter and thinner—he used to say we were Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde versions of each other. He insisted that he was Dr Jekyll, of course. And he had the most amazing amount of cheek—could get away with pretty much anything. Big loss to the crime world, him being born into a respectable law-abiding family, we always told him.’

‘And with a lawyer brother to boot,’ Tara said.

‘Oh, he hated the idea of me being a lawyer almost as much as my parents did,’ Vikram said. ‘But he was coming round to it. And he
had this little notebook of business ideas he kept jotting down and doing nothing about—he planned to sell the ideas one by one, and he was counting on me protecting his intellectual property rights for him.’

‘What kind of ideas?’ Tara asked, genuinely curious and hoping no one would come and interrupt them.

‘All kinds. Some of them were really crazy—like a mobile phone application he’d designed for jealous wives to track their husband’s doings. You loaded it onto the husband’s phone in secret, and it sent his location and a copy of all text messages he sent to the wife’s phone. He put in around six months of efforts designing the thing, tested it on my phone and my dad’s, and then suddenly decided it wasn’t “ethically right” and destroyed all the files. And there was an Impress the Chicks training course for nerds.’

Tara opened her mouth to ask a question and Vikram shook his head.

‘Don’t ask. It was too complicated for me to get my head around. Whatever it was, it must have worked for him—he had Lisa wrapped around his little finger in a couple of days.’ Vikram fell silent for a few seconds. ‘So, yeah,’ he said finally. ‘He was a good kid. And he
kind of held our family together—my parents are lost without him. I’ve lived away from them for so long that I don’t really connect with them any more. And, as I told you, I never was the ideal son.’

‘But your parents are really proud of you,’ Tara said, not liking his implication.

‘Yes, I know that,’ Vikram replied. ‘I’ve done pretty well as far as material things go.’ He looked away. ‘It’s the important stuff that I’ve screwed up on.’

Tara didn’t know what to say, but a second later he was speaking again.

‘We should join the others,’ he said, standing up and reaching out a hand to help Tara up.

She stood, her brow creased in worry. ‘I wish …’ she started to say.

He interrupted her. ‘That you could do something? I know.’ He gave a mirthless smile. ‘Don’t waste your energy feeling sorry for me. I could have prevented Vijay dying and I didn’t. I need to learn to live with that.’

‘The accident wasn’t your fault!’ Tara exclaimed.

‘I got him the bike,’ Vikram replied. ‘My parents told me not to, but I went ahead and did it anyway because I thought I knew better. He didn’t wear a helmet most of the time, and I
didn’t say anything. Nothing he took seriously at least. I was seven years older than him, Tara. It was my job to look after him.’

He turned away and began to stride across the lawn. Tara gave a helpless little shrug and followed him. She badly wanted to contradict him, to explain that he wasn’t being logical, but she could hardly do it in front of a dozen fellow students. Her heart twisting, she went to stand beside Vikram as he replied politely to a remark Prof Dubey addressed to him.

‘Do you mind if I drop you home and go out for a bit?’ Vikram asked as they got into the car fifteen minutes later. ‘I need to meet someone.’

‘Sure,’ Tara said, trying not to show her disappointment.

She’d been unconsciously looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Vikram. Since the honeymoon they hadn’t had much time alone together, except in bed. Vikram was always travelling, or working even on the weekends, and a whirl of social engagements filled up whatever little spare time he had. Being married to him was a lot like being a celebrity wife, she thought wryly, except that she didn’t get her face in the papers.

Vikram put the car into gear and reversed out of the parking lot. He hadn’t missed the downcast look on Tara’s face but he hardened his heart against it. The meeting he had wasn’t
urgent. It was with an old schoolfriend who’d been badgering him for free advice on a property dispute and he could have called it off easily—he didn’t even like the man much.

Taking Tara home and spending the afternoon in bed with her was an amazingly tempting thought. If he shut his eyes for a second he’d be able to imagine her silken limbs twining around him, her soft moans in his ears. He mentally shook himself to dispel the image, remembering instead the telltale sympathy he’d seen in her eyes when he’d spoken about Vijay. Irrationally, he felt angry with her—almost as if she’d tricked him into revealing more of his feelings to her than he’d intended. It wasn’t her fault—he knew that—but the afternoon’s conversation seemed to have further compromised the simple, almost transactional relationship he’d had with her, and he badly wanted some temporary distance between them.

‘I’ll be back by five,’ he offered as a kind of sop. ‘If you like we can start with your driving lessons today.’ He’d offered to teach her to drive soon after they got married, but so far hadn’t been able to spare the time.

‘I enrolled in classes a month ago,’ Tara said. ‘I should get my licence in a couple of weeks.’

Vikram didn’t reply immediately, but as
Tara glanced at him she saw a slight frown crease his forehead. Maybe he’d expected her to tell him, but the topic hadn’t come up. And, honestly, he couldn’t expect her to go into voluntary cold storage while he was away.

Her little flare of annoyance subsided as she remembered the expression on his face when he’d said he was responsible for Vijay’s death. She’d ached to put her arms around him and tell him to stop torturing himself, only she’d known it wouldn’t be any use.

‘So, can you drive now?’ Vikram asked, breaking into her thoughts.

‘Kind of,’ she said cautiously. ‘I know how to change gears and reverse. And I park pretty well.’ She hated driving from the bottom of her heart—but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

‘Let’s get you some driving practice in the evening, then,’ he said. ‘We can drive down the airport road and back, and go out for dinner afterwards.’

‘Sure,’ Tara said unenthusiastically.

He laughed, reaching out and trailing the back of his hand gently down her cheek. Tara had a second’s impulse to take his hand and press her lips to it. She suppressed it ruthlessly. Vikram didn’t handle sentimental gestures
very well—he’d freeze up and retreat into his shell.

‘Keep your hands on the wheel,’ she said instead, tapping his hand smartly as it wandered lower. ‘We’ll land up in a ditch.’

He laughed and removed his hand. ‘I think your phone is ringing,’ he remarked.

‘Damn, so it is,’ Tara said, grabbing her bag and digging frantically in it. She’d been so engrossed in managing her reactions to Vikram she hadn’t heard it ring.

‘What on earth do you keep in that bag?’ Vikram asked. ‘There seems to be enough in there to sustain a Polar expedition.’ They’d stopped at a traffic signal, and he was looking in amazement at the amount of stuff she was rummaging about in to locate the phone.

‘Phone. Make-up. Sunglasses. Book. Wallet,’ Tara said, continuing to rummage. ‘Ah, there it is.’ She pounced on the phone triumphantly, and looked at the display before answering the call. ‘Hi, Lisa,’ she said. ‘Did you find the gown you wanted?’

Vikram grimaced. Lisa had taken an unaccountable fancy to Tara. On the face of it the two women had nothing in common—Lisa was several years older, far more sophisticated and worldly-wise—but ever since she’d discovered
that Tara was an uncommonly good listener she’d gone out of her way to befriend her.

‘Yes—I mean, we hadn’t got anything planned, really,’ Tara was saying. She caught Vikram’s eye. ‘We were thinking of going out for dinner, and Vikram said I could practise my driving before that …’ There was a pause as she listened to what Lisa said. Then, ‘No, of course not,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask him and call you back.’

‘Lisa wants to know if I can drop by and help her decide on her wedding gown,’ she said, turning to Vikram. ‘She’s meeting her dress designer this afternoon. And can we meet her and Kunal for dinner later on?’

Vikram kept his eyes on the road. Earlier he’d been looking for an excuse to put a little distance between him and Tara—now, perversely, he felt annoyed.

‘Why is she asking you for help?’ he demanded. ‘She hardly knows you. Isn’t this something she should be doing with her mother or her best friend or someone?’

‘Her mother’s in Europe,’ Tara said. ‘And, I don’t know, but it doesn’t really look like she has too many friends other than you.’ She smiled. ‘I guess she doesn’t think you’re qualified
to advise her on wedding gowns. I’m the likeliest substitute.’

Vikram shrugged, not smiling back. ‘Go ahead, then,’ he said. ‘But figure out how to wriggle out of the dinner plan—I’m not keen on spending any more time with her and Wilson than strictly necessary.’

‘Because of Vijay?’ Tara asked quietly.

Vikram felt a wave of irrational anger surge through him again. ‘I don’t think we need to go into my reasons,’ he replied, his voice rough. ‘Now, do you want me to drop you home? Or do you want to be driven directly to Lisa’s place?’

‘Home,’ Tara said. ‘I need to do something about the wet clothes I played Holi in.’ She stayed silent for a minute more as Vikram swung the car into their lane and pulled up in front of their house. Then her sense of injury at his tone got the better of her. ‘Why don’t we need to discuss it?’ she asked, breathing a little fast. ‘You’re expecting me to decline a perfectly civil invitation from someone who’s your friend, not mine, and you refuse to give me a word of explanation.’

Vikram’s expression suggested a man bitten by a butterfly. This was the first time Tara had
directly challenged anything he’d said or done, and for a second he didn’t know how to react.

‘Say that we’ve already made plans,’ he said abruptly.

‘That’s not the point!’ Tara exclaimed. ‘I can think up a suitable lie on my own, thanks very much. The point is that Lisa’s always on at me about how we should all meet up, and I know you’re not keen. I must have made a dozen excuses already. I don’t know what the deal with the two of you is—first you tell me she’s a close friend of the family, then I find out she was your brother’s fiancée, and now you want to avoid her all the time. It just doesn’t make sense!’

‘Finished?’ he asked, his eyebrows raised.

She nodded mutely.

‘Let’s get a couple of things straight, then. We had a deal, Tara—we talked it over in detail before we decided to marry. I don’t think explaining ourselves to each other every step of the way was part of it. I allow you a fair degree of personal space, and I expect the same from you.’

Tara bit back an impulse to tell him exactly what he could do with his personal space. In spite of her frustration with Vikram her heart ached for him. He kept his feelings so carefully
shut away from everyone, but the little glimpses she’d got so far suggested that he was hurting badly inside.

‘I don’t think I’m trying to muscle into your space, Vikram,’ she said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. ‘I just feel that you need to come to terms with Lisa moving on after Vijay’s death and marrying someone else. It’d probably benefit both of you if you spent some time with her and sorted things out.’

Vikram jerked away from Tara’s hand as if it was red-hot. ‘Stop being so goddamn condescending,’ he said, his voice harsh. ‘The last thing I need right now is yet another person trying to
understand
me.’

‘I’m only trying to help,’ Tara said quietly. ‘You keep a lot of things bottled up inside you—it might help if you talked about them a little.’

Vikram’s eyes were cold, and his tone was deliberately hurtful when he spoke. ‘Quite the amateur psychologist,’ he drawled. ‘Funny how all women come to the same thing in the end—thinking they know what’s good for you. I guess I should have seen this coming.’

Tara flinched a little, but her gaze was steady as she met his eyes. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I get the message.’ She opened the car door,
and slid out. ‘I’ll be having dinner with Lisa and Kunal. I guess I’ll see you tonight.’

Tara felt her legs tremble as she walked down the drive. Their next-door neighbour was watering plants in her garden and waved cheerily. Tara waved back, trying to smile, as she took out her keys and fumbled at the lock. Once inside, she dropped her handbag and the bag of colour-stained clothes on the floor and sat down on the sofa, taking a deep breath.

‘Don’t cry,’ she told herself fiercely, blinking back the tears that threatened to spring to her eyes.

She sat silently for a long while, going over her conversation with Vikram in her mind. Funny how much words could hurt. She’d always prided herself on her resilience, and had been indulgently contemptuous of the way her mother allowed herself to be cowed by her father. Now it looked as if she’d go the same way herself if she wasn’t careful.

The introspection wasn’t helping, she thought as she felt her eyes beginning to well up again. Vikram probably cared for her in a superficial way, but somewhere between the honeymoon and now Tara had fallen deeply and completely in love with him. She’d only just fully acknowledged it to herself, and
the realisation hurt far more than his words ever could.

Sighing, she picked up her phone to dial Lisa’s number. Lisa would have to come and pick her up. Their driver, being North Indian, had taken the day off for Holi, and calling a cab would take ages.

By the time Lisa turned up Tara had regained a lot of her composure. Her heart still ached, and it would have been a relief to unburden herself to someone, but there was no one she could tell. For the first time in her life she felt the kind of loneliness that could come with being in a relationship—talking to even Ritu or her mother about her problems would feel like a betrayal of Vikram.

Lisa’s designer had a tiny little boutique in a by-lane in the central part of Bengaluru, and a collection of the most exquisite wedding dresses Tara had ever seen. In spite of her troubles Tara found herself taking an interest. Lisa was still undecided between two dresses, one in a simply-cut classic style and the other a daring, off-the-shoulder affair.

Tara pointed to the first one. ‘That’s better, I think. The other one will look dated in a few years, and you’ll be looking at your wedding pictures for a lot longer than that.’

‘That’s a good point,’ Lisa said, looking impressed. ‘All this while I was worried about my older relatives being shocked, but I kept hankering after the more striking dress—now I don’t think it’s such a good idea after all.’

‘You can shock them at the reception,’ Tara said. ‘That’s what I ended up doing, though I didn’t plan it that way.’

Lisa laughed. ‘I know. Vikram’s mum told me the story. She’s such a sweetheart. She found it as funny as I did. You’re really lucky to have a mother-in-law like her. Kunal’s mum is a dragon.’

Tara nodded, not wanting to comment. She liked and respected Vikram’s mother, but hadn’t spent enough time with her to become a whole-hearted fan like Lisa had.

‘Look, she gave me this for the wedding,’ Lisa said, digging out a jewellery case from her capacious bag. She clicked the snap open to display a pearl necklace in a beautiful pale gold filigree setting, with tiny diamonds winking between the pearls.

Even to Tara’s untrained eyes the necklace screamed out designer jewellery—the setting was unusual, and very well-crafted, and the pearls themselves were large, almost perfectly symmetrical, and a lovely iridescent colour.

‘I’m getting the embroidery on the dress done to match the necklace,’ Lisa said. ‘That’s why I brought it along. I badly wanted her to come for the wedding, but she said she won’t be able to make it. She did tell me Vikram would come. He will, won’t he?’

There was a pleading note in her voice, and Tara thought despairingly
Here we go again
.

‘He hasn’t told me he won’t,’ Tara said.

Lisa gave her an unhappy look and turned back to the designer to give her some final instructions on the dress. The wedding was only three weeks away, and there was a great deal of work that needed to be done on it if it was to be ready on time. The designer kept the basic dress styles ready in different sizes, but the bride got to customise the embroidery and the detailing. Privately Tara thought it was a bit of a waste. From five feet away all white-on-white embroidery would look the same, and the dress looked lovely as it was.

‘We have time for a cup of coffee before Kunal meets us,’ Lisa said as they left the shop.

Tara wondered if telling Lisa she hated coffee would help avoid a
tête-à-tête
. Probably not, she thought, trailing behind Lisa without a word of protest. In any case, it was probably best to allow Lisa to vent about the whole
why-is-Vikram-not-happy-with-my-marrying-Kunal thing before she went and said something to Vikram directly.

‘He’s been avoiding me,’ Lisa said. ‘I tried calling him a couple of times, but he’s always too busy to talk for long. And every time I try to invite him over he says he’s travelling or has a meeting or something.’

‘He has been very busy,’ Tara said

‘Even today?’ Lisa demanded. ‘You said the two of you were planning to go out for dinner, but you’re here and he isn’t. It’s a Saturday, and it’s Holi. No one would be working, so you can’t say he’s got a meeting.’