Secrets & Saris (16 page)

This, unfortunately, did reach Mrs Khanna’s ears, and she looked terribly scandalised—Shefali, on the other hand, giggled involuntarily.

‘Hmm,
muuuch
better,’ Freddy said approvingly. ‘Now, if you could just tilt your head back a little...’

The whole getting ready business took a good three hours—Freddy wasn’t happy with the way Mrs Khanna draped Shefali’s sari the first two times, and only when he threatened to rip it off and redrape it himself did she follow his instructions to the letter. Her make-up was perfect—very light, with just enough eyeliner and shadow to accentuate her undeniably beautiful eyes, and a little bit of blush and glitter to add colour to her pale cheeks. Freddy had figured out early on that Mrs Khanna was a celebrity hound, and at any sign of her wanting to interfere he dropped a few names and she backed off.

‘Now for your hair,’ he said, and carefully started removing the rollers he’d put it into. Then he went to work with tongs and hairspray, and soon had Shefali’s hair cascading down in a mass of soft ringlets. He frowned and shook his head at the first set of gemstone-encrusted pins Mrs Khanna offered him. ‘Ah—those are perfect,’ he said, taking simple plain gold clips from her and pinning back Shefali’s hair at the sides. ‘So what do you think?’ he asked, swivelling Shefali’s chair around so that she could look at herself in the mirror.

‘She looks beautiful,’ Mrs Khanna conceded grudgingly. ‘Though I think the
bindi
could have been a little bigger.’

‘Shefali?’

Shefali was still inspecting herself.

‘I’ll knock his socks off,’ she said with quiet confidence, and this time Freddy burst into laughter.

‘Way to go, girl,’ he said approvingly. He lowered his voice as Mrs Khanna left the room with one of his assistants to get her own make-up and hair touched up. ‘You want to talk about it, let me know. Hairdressers’ code of honour—we never tell.’

Shefali shook her head, smiling. ‘No, that wouldn’t be fair to Neil. But thanks, Freddy.’ She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and Neil chose exactly that moment to walk into the suite.

He was brought up short by the sight of his bride in another man’s arms. ‘Am I interrupting something?’ he asked stiffly. Industry gossip said that Freddy was gay, but Neil had always had his doubts. And, gay or not gay, Shefali was standing far too close to him for Neil’s liking.

‘Oh, not at all,’ Freddy said smoothly, gathering up his things. ‘We were just talking about...socks.’

‘Socks?’ Neil said, not even trying to keep the scepticism out of his voice.

‘Yes, well, Freddy thinks they won’t...go with the whole sari look,’ Shefali said, and both she and Freddy burst into fresh laughter.

‘People have started arriving,’ Neil said when they’d stopped. ‘If you’re ready, shall we go down?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Shefali said, standing up and slipping on her heels.

She gave Neil a quick look. He was wearing a dark grey suit that perfectly moulded his powerful shoulders and lean physique, and he looked magnificent—though his expression wasn’t happy. She was about to say something when Freddy spoke.

‘Looking good, man,’ he said, leaning across to adjust Neil’s tie by a fraction. ‘Now, just a minute.’ He grabbed Shefali’s hand and pulled her away from Neil to spray a cloud of perfume into the air. ‘Walk through that,’ he ordered, and she complied while Neil backed away to avoid getting any on himself.

‘Ready to roll,’ Freddy said, and Shefali walked out of the suite with Neil.

The reception was to be in the ballroom on the first floor of the hotel, and they’d have to take the lift down. Freddy was still packing up his make-up bag, so they were alone in the lift.

‘You look beautiful,’ Neil said quietly as the doors slid shut. ‘I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I should have said.’

‘Not too bad yourself,’ Shefali said, though her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. She let her eyes rest for a few seconds on his face. His eyes looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept very well, and on impulse she put a hand up to his cheek. ‘Cheer up,’ she said softly.

He groaned, his hands coming up to grip her shoulders. ‘Don’t,’ he said, unconsciously echoing Freddy. ‘This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives—we shouldn’t need cheering up.’

A ghost of a smile flitted across Shefali’s lips. ‘I’m sorry I ran out on you yesterday,’ she said. ‘I thought it over later and—well, let’s just try and take each day as it comes, shall we? We’ll be happy together. I’m sure of it.’

Neil didn’t answer directly but he pressed a button to stop the lift and bent down to kiss her, his lips hot and demanding against hers. ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said when he finally let her go, her face flushed, and her make-up a little smudged. ‘But I’ll do my damnedest to make you happy.’

Did that mean he’d definitely changed his mind about children? Shefali wondered as the lift doors slid open. Or just that he’d do everything else he could to keep her happy?

She automatically plastered a smile on her face as the first set of guests came across to meet them.

Freddy soon hurried across to her. ‘Shefali, your make-up!’ he scolded. ‘I told you you’d knock his socks off, didn’t I?’

She smiled at him as he opened his bag and started dabbing at her mouth with a ball of cotton. ‘So you did,’ she said.

‘Things better?’ he asked softly.

She shook her head, a lone tear escaping from her eye and sliding down her cheek. ‘Not really,’ she said. It wasn’t something she’d easily admit, but Freddy had got past her defences effortlessly.

Freddy grabbed a glass from a passing waiter’s tray. ‘Drink this,’ he said firmly. ‘I cannot, repeat,
cannot
have you leaking mascara all over the place.’

Shefali took a swig. He was right, it did help, and she drained the rest of the glass quickly.

‘Is that alcoholic?’ a shocked voice said.

She turned to see her mother standing right behind her and nodded defiantly.

‘You’re
drinking
at your own wedding reception?’ her mother continued.

‘She probably just needs a shot of Dutch courage before she meets the family,’ Barbara Mitra said, coming up to Shefali and giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘Come on—let me introduce you to everyone.’

‘There’s no stage,’ Mrs Khanna said, sounding annoyed. ‘Normally they would sit on the stage and everyone would come and meet them there—at least that’s the way it’s done in Delhi.’

‘I don’t think they do it that way in Mumbai,’ Shefali said, stifling a giggle. The wine had gone to her head rather quickly.

‘And there’s no videographer either,’ Mrs Khanna said, sounding even more upset.

Rafiq caught the last remark. ‘
Arrey
, Aunty, what to do? I told Neil but he said he didn’t want any
tamasha
...’

Rafiq’s approach to Shefali’s mother was the opposite to Freddy’s—he agreed fervently with everything she said, thereby immediately antagonising everyone else within earshot.

‘Come, Nina’s been waiting to see you,’ Barbara said, and drew Shefali away.

Nina was standing with a slim woman who looked so much like her that Shefali didn’t need an introduction. She’d expected to feel animosity towards her, but Reema was so natural and unaffected that she found herself actually liking her.

Neil looked across the room and saw Shefali and Reema together. He winced. His mother belonged to the ‘if there’s an elephant in the room introduce it’ school of thought, which Neil subscribed to in theory but not in practice. Ideally he would have liked it if Reema hadn’t come, but she was Nina’s mother, and their parents were still friends—families bound together by their common grandchild.

‘Excuse me,’ Neil said to the colleagues he was standing with, and strode across the open terrace to Shefali’s side.

‘Shefali Mamma, you’re not wearing
mehandi
this time,’ Nina was exclaiming in disappointment. ‘You wore it last time, when—’

‘Nina, that’s enough,’ Neil said sharply, and both Shefali and Reema turned in surprise.

‘Whoa—no longer the super-indulgent Daddy, I see,’ Reema said teasingly, but when Neil’s expression turned thunderous she put out a hand in appeasement. ‘Sorry, sorry—just saying.’

‘Hi, Reema,’ Neil said curtly. ‘Just got here?’

‘Some time ago, actually. I was with Barbara and Nina.’ She paused, then said a little self-consciously but very sincerely, ‘Congratulations, Neil. I’m so happy for both of you.’

She meant it, Shefali thought wonderingly as she looked at Reema. She genuinely wanted Neil to be happy.

Neil seemed to realise it too, and he smiled down at Reema, his expression much warmer. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve already met Shefali.’

‘Yes, and she’s lovely,’ Reema said. ‘Relax, Neil, we’re not going to have a cat-fight. You didn’t need to come charging to the rescue. I think we might even end up being friends. Especially if Shefali tells me the story behind no
mehandi—
I’m dying of curiosity
.
’

She gave both of them a sunny little smile, and Neil groaned. There was a reason why Barbara and Reema had always got on so well—neither of them believed in being discreet.

‘I almost got married once before,’ Shefali said. ‘And I’d had my hands covered with
mehandi
designs. The wedding didn’t happen, but Nina met me soon afterwards and she remembers them.’

‘I think we need to circulate a little,’ Neil said abruptly. ‘I’ll see you around, Reema. Nina, are you staying with your mum?’

‘Yes,’ Nina said happily. ‘She’s telling me about the stuff she’s got me from the US.’

‘She seems nice,’ Shefali ventured when they were out of earshot.

Neil shrugged. ‘She’s all right,’ he said. ‘I don’t like seeing her with Nina, that’s all.’

That was understandable, Shefali thought, and she gave Neil’s arm a quick squeeze. Given that Reema hadn’t wanted the child initially, and after she was born hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her, it must be difficult to see Nina being so friendly with her now.

The band struck up an old Bollywood number, and several couples stepped onto the dance floor.

‘Aren’t you two dancing?’ Neil’s father asked them in mock horror, and they found themselves being pushed onto the dance floor.

Neil was a good dancer—perhaps because his mother had taught him. Shefali found herself following his lead with practically no effort, and for the first time that evening she relaxed and began to enjoy herself. The feel of Neil’s arms around her was utter bliss, and on the dance floor he seemed less tense as well, smiling deep into her eyes as he twirled her in time to the music.

The song came to an end, and people near them clapped.

‘May I?’ Mr Mitra said, and led Shefali back on to the floor.

After that she danced with Shravan and Rafiq and Freddy, laughing as they swung her around boisterously, her hair flying over her flushed face.

Neil had stepped off the dance floor and was watching quietly from the terrace when a small hand slipped into his. Nina didn’t look up at him, though. She had eyes only for Shefali.

‘She dances so
well
,’ Nina said, and Neil nodded.

It had just struck him that Shefali looked happier now than she had since she’d set foot in Mumbai—perhaps happier than he’d ever seen her before. And no credit to him. It was probably just the music, and she was letting herself go, letting herself laugh and have fun.

‘She’s amazing,’ a voice said next to him, and he turned to Reema, an unconscious frown on his face. Nina slipped off to find Bela Mashi, and they were alone together.

‘I know,’ he said.

‘Nina’s so fond of her, and your parents are crazy about her,’ Reema continued, ignoring the frown on his face. ‘And you’re a completely different person now.’

‘I am?’ he asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his face.

‘Of course you are, Neil!’ Reema turned to him. ‘You used to be obsessed with Nina, and you were working yourself into the ground, you had casual, meaningless flings, but no serious relationships—now it’s like you’ve finally found your moorings.’

‘Quite the little psychoanalyst,’ Neil said sarcastically.

Reema flushed. ‘I’m not trying to be patronising,’ she said. ‘We’ve known each other all our lives, Neil. Sometimes it feels like I know you better than I know myself. We were best friends, but we should never have married each other—what we had was boy-girl stuff. It was sweet, but it would have blown over and we’d have gone back to being friends. What you have now is the real thing.’

She fell silent, and Neil, feeling his heart beating faster, said, ‘What d’you mean, “the real thing”?’

‘Both of you are obviously head over heels in love with each other,’ she said, adding with a little gurgle of laughter, ‘Even Nina can see it.’

‘Thanks,’ Neil said absently.

Even Nina could see it—but they hadn’t yet actually acknowledged their feelings for each other. He’d been mired in his own hang-ups and so had Shefali, probably. Unless he was wrong, and Shefali didn’t love him after all. His heart twisted within him at the thought, and he squared his shoulders unconsciously, as if he were readying himself for a blow. There was only one way to find out, he thought, crossing the ballroom with purposeful strides. Freddy was still twirling Shefali in his arms, and Neil tapped him on the shoulder.

‘I’d like my wife back, please,’ he said, and Freddy relinquished her without a peep.

‘Socks!’ he called out cheekily, as Shefali followed Neil off the dance floor.

She looked up at Neil in concern. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked.

‘Everything’s perfect,’ he said. ‘I just need to talk to you for a few minutes. Alone,’ he added as she stood there expectantly.

No one noticed them leave the ballroom except Reema, and she didn’t draw attention to it.

Neil took Shefali into a small room next to the ballroom that was being used to store the gifts and bouquets. Once inside, he shut the door behind him and took her hands into his.

‘This mightn’t be what you want to hear from me right now,’ he said, ‘but I couldn’t not tell you.’ At the startled look on her face, he smiled slightly and said, ‘Relax, it’s nothing terrible. And before I begin I just want to say I don’t really have any expectations. I mean, I don’t want you to feel obliged to....’