The One She Was Warned About (10 page)

‘You OK?’ Nikhil asked when Veena left the room for a few minutes to fetch something.

She nodded. ‘I didn’t realise Veena Aunty knew my mother,’ she said softly. ‘But it felt good, hearing about her.’

Shweta refused to stay to dinner, pleading an early start the next morning as an excuse.

‘But I’ll drop in again soon,’ she promised a visibly disappointed Veena as she left. ‘I still remember the prawn curry you gave me when I came over to your house in Pune.’

Nikhil came to the door to see her off, and when he pulled her close she sought his lips hungrily with her own.

‘Is Priya in town?’ Nikhil asked in an undertone when he released her after a few minutes. Veena’s visit meant that Shweta couldn’t stay the night in Nikhil’s flat, and the thought of the enforced separation was sheer torture.

‘Very much so,’ Shweta said. ‘But you can come over anyway. I have my own room, and Priya has a boyfriend of her own. She isn’t around much herself.’

Nikhil hesitated. ‘I thought you weren’t very keen on people knowing about us,’ he said.

Shweta’s eyes opened wide. ‘Why would you think that?’ she asked. ‘Anyway, Priya knows—how d’you think I explain being away for so many nights? Prayer meetings?’

He smiled briefly, but still looked unconvinced. ‘We’ll figure something out,’ he said. ‘Maybe a hotel. I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.’

‘It would be far more awkward sneaking into a hotel for a dirty weekend,’ Shweta said, standing on tiptoe and firmly pressing her lips to his. ‘Love you, Nikhil. Bye!’

‘Bye,’ he said, but he stayed at the door long after Shweta had disappeared into the lift—so long that Veena came out to look for him.

‘What are you doing out here all alone?’ she asked. ‘Is everything OK?’

Nikhil nodded, forcing a smile to his lips. ‘Everything is fine,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry—I started thinking of something.’

Veena gave him a worried look but refrained from asking any questions. She’d looked after Nikhil since he was a tiny baby—Ranjini had been young and nervous when he was born, and more than happy to relinquish him into an older woman’s care. In some ways she felt more like his real mother than Ranjini, but she was always careful not to let it show.

‘What do you want for dinner?’ she asked. ‘I can do rice and
avial—
or
dosas
. I have everything ready.’

‘Come and sit down with me for bit, Amma,’ Nikhil said. ‘We haven’t had a chance to talk properly since you arrived—I was rushing around trying to finish work, and then Shweta came over.’

‘She’s a lovely girl,’ Veena said warmly. ‘Are the two of you...?’ She left the question hanging delicately—she was of a generation and upbringing that didn’t ask direct questions about people’s love lives.

‘I want to marry her,’ Nikhil said heavily. ‘She hasn’t said yes yet.’

‘You’ve asked her?’ Veena had no illusions about her husband’s son, and she was a little surprised at his saying he wanted to marry Shweta. So far he had flitted from one relationship to another, and Veena had got the impression that he was shying away from commitment—she had been all prepared with a little lecture on how he couldn’t treat Shweta the way he did all his other girlfriends.

‘Of course I’ve asked! Amma, we’ve been—’ He broke off, not wanting to shock his stepmother, and continued in bitter tones. ‘I know what you’ve been thinking—I could see it on your face when you were talking to her. You were feeling all protective, and you assumed I was playing the fool with her.’

‘No, I didn’t. I know you wouldn’t deliberately hurt someone, but I
was
a little worried. She seems to be...’ Veena hesitated a little ‘...very fond of you, and I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.’

‘I’ve known Shweta since she was four years old,’ Nikhil said. ‘If I wasn’t serious about her I wouldn’t have come within touching distance of her, let alone—’ He broke off again, because Veena was looking uncomfortable. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. She’s the one who needs more time to make up her mind.’

‘If you’re already...’ Veena tried to phrase it as delicately as she could, and then, failing, hurried on. ‘She’s a girl. I would have thought she’d be in a hurry to marry.’

‘It doesn’t work that way nowadays,’ Nikhil said with a short laugh. ‘And I can quite see her point—her family’s not terribly well-off, but they’re very proud. Dr Mathur’s only daughter marrying the illegitimate son of a building contractor would be a big come-down. Oh, and I got expelled as well—from a school where he was on the board of directors. Yes, I can see it going down a treat...his daughter wanting to marry me.’

Veena had turned very white. ‘Is that what she told you?’

Nikhil shook his head. ‘She doesn’t need to say it. I know her father, and though she won’t admit it I know she’s completely under his thumb. She cares for me, but she’s not sure if she cares enough to cut herself off from her family.’ He noticed Veena’s still expression and reached out impulsively, taking her hand.

‘I’m sorry I started talking about it,’ he said. ‘It’s not your fault, and I’m sure I’ll win Shweta around in time.’

‘Perhaps if I talk to her—’ Veena started to say.

Nikhil cut her off. ‘No, don’t. It’ll only make things worse. Now, come on, let’s figure out dinner—I’ll help you put something together.’

Veena allowed Nikhil to coax her into the kitchen, but she was deeply troubled. The rift between Nikhil and his parents was bad enough. The thought that Nikhil was suffering even today because of his illegitimacy was unbearable. She’d been happy when he’d set up his event management company, especially because she’d thought his background wouldn’t matter in the rather bohemian crowd he mingled with. She didn’t really approve of his girlfriends, with their artificially straightened hair and short dresses, but she’d hoped he would settle down with one of them. His marrying Shweta would be a dream come true. She was quite sure Shweta would come round in the end—it had been difficult to miss the depth of feeling in the girl’s eyes when she looked at Nikhil. But Nikhil was the kind of man who brooded and let old resentments fester. Shweta’s reluctance boded ill for a happy life together. He’d allow distrust to eat away at him— always assume she was ashamed of being seen with him.

‘Stop looking so worried,’ Nikhil teased, putting his arms around his stepmother and giving her a quick hug. ‘What’s eating you?’

‘I’m trying to decide between
dosas
and rice,’ Veena said. ‘It’s a difficult call to make—needs a lot of thought.’

‘Dosas,’
Nikhil decided. ‘I’ve missed the way you make them.’

* * *

Shweta sighed as she put the phone down after a particularly difficult call with a client. The week had been dispiriting, to say the least. Nikhil had been busy with work, and when he hadn’t, he’d had Veena to take care of. She’d tagged along a couple of times, but Veena’s idea of suitable entertainment was to visit every major temple in the city, and Shweta had finally given up and gone home in sheer exhaustion. It didn’t help that Veena kept giving her anxious looks. She seemed on the verge of asking her something, and Shweta was sure it had to do with her not being engaged to Nikhil yet.

That was another thing she was puzzling over. Nikhil wasn’t pressuring her at all, and he’d been the perfect boyfriend so far. Yet still she held back from saying yes to him. Mainly it was because she was convinced he wasn’t really in love with her. The physical attraction between the two of them was too strong to be denied, and at times it blinded both of them to anything else. Outside of it, Nikhil’s eagerness to marry her could be explained by his feeling comfortable with her, just because she’d known him for so long and understood the complicated situation with his family. She suspected that he never talked about his parents with anyone else he knew in Mumbai. In spite of the wide circle of friends and acquaintances he partied with, he was essentially reserved and very lonely.

‘Bad day?’

Siddhant had stopped by her desk and was smiling at her. Shweta nodded ruefully. ‘The company I audited is disputing every comment on the report,’ she said. ‘Deepa’s going to kill me when she finds out.’

Siddhant shook his head. ‘Deepa’s a tough boss, but she’s a very fair person,’ he said. ‘She’ll take your side.’

‘I hope so.’ Shweta still felt rather guilty about the way she’d treated Siddhant, especially since he’d been so nice about it. Perhaps the fact that she and Nikhil had been childhood friends helped—Siddhant hadn’t reproached her even once, though he’d been shattered by the news. In the last couple of weeks they’d progressed to a polite friendship, and Shweta found herself liking him a lot more than she had when she’d been gearing herself up to marry him.

‘How’s Nikhil doing?’

Shweta sighed. ‘Busy. Most of his big events are on Fridays or over weekends, and he needs to be around to make sure everything’s running smoothly.’

‘So you’re not meeting up with him after work today?’

Shweta shook her head.

‘Then let me take you out for dinner,’ Siddhant said. ‘We haven’t caught up for a while, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t stay friends even though...well...’

‘Yes, sure,’ Shweta said hastily before he could elaborate further. She had nothing else to do, and having dinner with Siddhant would help lessen the guilt she felt every time she saw him.

‘Ask Priya if she’d like to join us,’ Siddhant said.

He’d probably said that just to make it clear that he wasn’t trying to woo her back—in any case, Priya was horrified at the thought of dinner with her and Siddhant.

‘No way,’ she said. ‘It’ll be the most awkward meal of the century, what with you having just jilted Siddy-boy. Have you told Nikhil you’re going out with him?’

‘No, I haven’t,’ Shweta said, justifiably annoyed. ‘I didn’t jilt Siddhant, by the way. He never even told me he was interested. And Nikhil’s not the possessive kind—he won’t care.’

* * *

As it turned out, though, he
did
care—he cared a lot more than Shweta had ever imagined. She’d put her phone on silent during dinner, because she didn’t want Siddhant to think she was being rude answering calls while she was with him, and the dinner had been pleasant, with both of them carefully sticking to neutral topics of discussion. Shweta couldn’t help comparing him with Nikhil—Nikhil was terribly opinionated, often unpredictable, and she’d never been out for dinner with him without losing her temper at least once. But he made her feel alive and desired and cherished all at the same time. In stark contrast, her conversation with Siddhant was a mass of clichés and views picked up from the latest business magazines. Nice as he was, Shweta couldn’t help thinking that she’d had a lucky escape.

It was only after Siddhant had dropped her home that Shweta checked her phone and found three missed calls from Nikhil.

‘Where have you been?’ he demanded when she called him back. ‘I tried a dozen times. I was beginning to get worried!’

‘You called me exactly three times,’ Shweta said calmly. ‘My phone was on silent—I’d gone out for dinner with Siddhant.’

There was a long pause. For a second Shweta thought that the call had got disconnected.

‘With Siddhant?’ Nikhil repeated slowly, a dangerous note coming into his voice. ‘You went out for dinner with him? Alone?’

‘Quite alone.’ Shweta was annoyed now, and she let it show. ‘Now, if you’ve finished cross-examining me, I’d like to go to bed. It’s quite late.’

‘I was planning to ditch one of my biggest launches of the year because I wanted to come and spend some time with you,’ he said. ‘Obviously I shouldn’t have bothered. You were too busy to even take my calls, going out for dinner with your very eligible little toy-boy...’

He was almost spitting the words out—Shweta could feel the anger coming off him in waves. She could feel a reciprocal fury stirring in herself.

‘I suppose I should have been sitting at home next to the phone on the off-chance you’d call?’ she said. ‘Grow up, Nikhil. This isn’t the nineteenth century.’ Irrelevantly, she wondered if they’d had phones in the nineteenth century. Perhaps not, but Nikhil was too worked up to pick holes in her logic.

‘I don’t expect you to hang around waiting for my calls,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I do, however, expect you to refrain from two-timing me with the man you were all set to marry two months ago.’

‘Right—that’s enough,’ Shweta said, her voice absolutely cold with rage. ‘I’m ringing off now, and don’t you dare try to call me back. I don’t think I want to talk to you ever again.’

She cut the call. Immediately the phone began to ring again, and she switched it off, her hands trembling with anger as she punched the buttons. The landline began to ring next, and she took it off the hook as soon as it stopped. Then she locked her bedroom door, so that Priya couldn’t come in for a midnight chat, and plonked herself on her bed, staring into space. She was usually the kind of person who lost her temper and calmed down within a few minutes—now she was so furious she could hardly think straight.

Around fifteen minutes later she heard Priya come into the flat. The doorbell rang almost immediately afterwards and she assumed it was Priya’s boyfriend, probably coming up to give her something she’d left behind in the car. She could hear Priya having a muffled conversation with someone on the landing—then footsteps came up to her door and someone tried the handle.

‘Shweta?’ Priya called out, knocking on the door.

‘I’ve gone to bed!’ Shweta yelled back. She knew she looked a fright—something like an avenging goddess on a bad hair day—and she didn’t want Priya coming in and figuring out something was wrong.

‘Nikhil’s here,’ Priya said.

Oh, great.
That was all she needed—a scene in her flat in the middle of the night. She’d be lucky if the building’s residents’ society didn’t turf them out—the society secretary had already started rumbling about male visitors not being allowed after eight p.m.

‘I don’t want to see him,’ she said. ‘Tell him to go away.’

Priya turned around and gave Nikhil a helpless look. She’d always had a soft spot for her flatmate’s gorgeous boyfriend, and she thought Shweta was being completely unreasonable.