Monsoon Memories (40 page)

‘I love you,’ she whispered, just before her lips touched his, and then she was kissing him. She was kissing him and nothing else mattered—not what had gone before, not what was to come. All that mattered was this man, here, now, with her.

Afterwards, she inhaled the familiar smell of his sweat, rested her cheek in the crook of his neck. ‘I missed you,’ she whispered as the security guard shooed them down the steps, dispersed the onlookers with a flick of his baton, yelling, ‘What are you gaping at?’ and went back to guarding the barrier muttering, ‘These people! Going to foreign countries and coming back with ideas in their heads. Kissing in public—and on the mouth, too! Ayyo devare…’

‘I have waited so long for this, Shonu,’ Vinod said as her hand found his and squeezed.

* * *

Shirin smelt fish frying as she and Vinod neared the house she had called home for the first twenty-two years of her life. They had stopped off at the church, deposited flowers on Jacinta and Walter’s graves and were now making their way home through the fields.

The air smelt of rain and earth and something else, something fresh. Perhaps this was the smell of seeds drunk on rainwater and soil, ready to sprout; the smell of new beginnings, of hope, Shirin mused. Her feet led her unerringly toward home, balancing with ease on the precarious path between the fields. Vinod followed, not balancing quite as well.

Dark clouds collected in clumps, staining the azure sky black, playing hide and seek with the sun.
Looks like rain.

Her childhood home rose majestically above the fields on the hill. Smoke rose from the chimney in the bathroom, reminding her of dreaded scalding baths as a child. She could just make out Madhu in the kitchen, hunched over the gas as she used a spatula to flip the frying fish, stopping only to shoo the cat, Chinnu, away. The front door was wide open as usual. Shirin’s eyes scanned for Reena and she found her sitting on the rim of the well, Gypsy sprawled across her lap, Deepak by her side. Reena’s head was bent and she was stroking the dog’s back. Shirin’s heart did a crazy flip. Her daughter!

She quickened her steps, raced up the hill and Vinod followed, breathless. ‘You need to get fit,’ she said to him, winking. Vinod was too out of breath to think up a riposte. He bent double with his hands on his knees, panting with his mouth open, and she laughed, ‘You look like Gypsy. Go on in. I’ll be along in a minute.’ She looked towards Reena. He nodded, understanding without her having to spell it out.

As she walked to the well, she watched Reena stand up, go to Deepak, put her arms around him, hold him close. Gypsy coughed out something she had eaten, bounded up to her with a low bark, danced around her legs. Reena turned, her face lighting up when she saw her.

‘You came back.’

She came up to Shirin and put her arms around her, as naturally as if she had been doing it always. Shirin held her daughter, breathing in the scent of her. Over her hair, which smelt of coconut, she met Deepak’s gaze. ‘How could I stay away, Reena?’

‘I want to talk to you about something.’ Reena’s voice sounded muffled.

‘I’ll go on inside, let you two catch up,’ Deepak said.

As he walked past, Shirin held out her hand. Her brother took it, his eyes shining. She looked down at his hand—the hand that had snatched the note; the hand that had connected with Tariq’s flesh; the hand that had cradled her child that rain-sodden night and sealed a promise; the hand that had raised the beautiful girl who was now ensconced in her arms. ‘I’m so sorry, Shirin,’ he said. She squeezed his hand hard once and watched him walk into the house, his back stooped.

‘Yes?’ she whispered into her daughter’s hair.

Reena worried a loose thread on her sleeve. ‘I do understand, sort of, why you gave me away. But... I am still very angry with you.’

Shirin gently tipped Reena’s chin up with her finger. Her daughter’s face, so like her own, was distressed. ‘Reena, you have every right to be angry. Rage, fight; get it all out. Don’t let it eat away at you.’

‘Sometimes, I don’t know who I am. I wake up frightened. If my parents are not really my parents, what else don’t I know?’

‘Reena, there will be no more secrets. All the adults in your life promise that.’

‘And you expect me to believe it? You adults make a lot of promises you don’t keep.’ Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Shirin held her close, patted her back. Reena snuggled into her, drawing comfort. Her daughter. She breathed her in. She smelt of coconut shampoo, sandalwood, spices and dog.

‘When I found that picture, I identified with you instantly… Since I found out, I often wonder... if you had kept me, not given me away, how things would have been…’

Oh, Reena.
She wanted to hold this girl forever. She wanted this moment to never end.

‘But…’ Reena paused, swallowed. Whatever it was that she wanted to tell her, she was finding it very hard to say. Shirin was content to wait, while she held her close, like this. Overhead, thick smoky clouds spirited the sun away. Shadows played across her daughter’s face. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ Reena said finally.

Lightning signed in cursive writing on slate-grey canvas.

‘Reena,’ she said softly, ‘I lived for eleven years missing you, aching for you. Nothing can hurt me as much as that, especially not anything you say. You are a gift, Reena. A precious, precious one. I have longed for you for what seems like forever and to have you now... It’s a miracle...’

‘They love me very much.’ Reena’s voice was soft.

There was a sudden playful growl of thunder. Gypsy barked, cowered under the banana tree.

‘I know.’

Madhu rushed out of the kitchen to pull clothes off the line and from where they were sprawled on the aboli branches, a colourful awning. She stopped short when she saw Shirin and Reena. ‘Shirin, when did you come? Come in—you must be hungry. I’ve made mackerel fry; I put lots of chilli and vinegar in the marinade, just the way you like it. And there is raw-jackfruit curry, and I made crab masala with ginger and tomato. It’s going to rain. Why are you standing outside?’ She frantically pulled off the clothes, gathered them in her arms.

‘They are the only parents I have known.’ Reena bit her lower lip.

This close, she could hear her daughter’s heart beating steadily, drumming in time to her own.

The first drops of rain fell, bringing with them the sound of trees whispering blissfully, the smell of drenched earth.

‘I know how painful it is to live without your child,’ Shirin whispered. ‘I will not do the same to your parents. I promise.’

‘Come in. What are you doing there?’ Madhu was standing on the veranda, gesticulating wildly, her arms full of clothes. ‘You are both city people now, not used to the monsoon—you’ll catch a cold.’

Her daughter in her arms, Shirin turned her head up to the heavens. The rain fell in a huge deluge, pasting her hair to her scalp in wet tendrils, running down her face, her neck, her arms, soaking her and the precious gift she held close. She opened her mouth, savoured this, her first taste of the monsoons after eleven years.

Her daughter stood on tiptoe, held her face in her palms and kissed her with rain-soaked lips. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

That was reward enough.

THE END

Dear Reader,

First of all, I want to say a huge thank you for choosing
Monsoon Memories
, for accompanying Shirin and Reena on their journey and for sticking with them until the end. I hope you enjoyed reading
Monsoon Memories
just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If you are not quite ready to let go of Shirin and Reena yet, there are more stories about them that I couldn’t include in the book at my website:
www.renitadsilva.com
.
Here, you can also read my blog – I chat about writing, reading, Indian fiction and about the wonderful, roller coaster ride that is being an author. Also, if you go to the ‘My Supporters’ tab on my webpage and sign up, you will get regular updates about my next book. You will be the first to see the cover and will also be party to exclusive material from the book.

Your feedback is valuable to me. I would like to know what you made of Shirin, Reena, Madhu, Vinod, Jacinta, Deepak, Prem and everybody else in
Monsoon Memories
. Do visit my website and pop me a note. I’ll also keep an eye out for reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.

I look forward to hearing from you. And I hope you join Devi, Nisha and Shilpa – the protagonists of my next book – on their journey. I can’t wait to share it with you.

Thank you.

Renita.

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• CHAPTER ONE
  
  • Ghosts
    
• CHAPTER TWO
  
  • The Curious Case of
    
  • the Mysterious Girl from
    
  • the Photograph
    
• CHAPTER THREE
  
  • Sister Maya's Bulbous Nose
    
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
  • Super Sleuth Investigates
    
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
  • Blue-Green Soda Bottles
    
• CHAPTER SIX
  
  • Madhu's favourite
    
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  • A Cricket Team
    
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  • Puffed-Up Puris and
    
  • Gluey Bhaji
    
• CHAPTER NINE
  
  • Cow-Dung Pastes and
    
  • Gram-Flour Baths
    
• CHAPTER TEN
  
  • Maggi Noodles and Bournvita
    
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  • Blue-Tinged Shadow
    
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  • Sunglasses in the Rain
    
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  • Untouchable Prince Charming
    
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  • Film-Star Aunt
    
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  • Rickety Old Rickshaw
    
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  • Chats on the Veranda at Twilight
    
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  • Parcels from the Gulf
    
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  • Hand Stretched to Infinity
    
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  • A Good Match
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  • Navarathna Super Deluxe
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  • Dog-Eared Diary
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  • Destined for Greatness
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  • Mrs. Vaz
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
  • Girl in Pigtails
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  
  • A Daughter's Duty
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  
  • Dark Silhouettes
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  
  • Spilt Coffee
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  
  • Grandpa Walter's Favourite Spot
    
• CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  
  • Swaddled Bundle
    
• CHAPTER THIRTY
  
  • Colossians 3:13
    
• CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  
  • Kulfi Ice Cream
    
• CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  
  • Beginnings