The Contract (6 page)

shoulders surreptitiously. He squirmed away, and went on the far side, right next to Hussain, trying to

hold his hand.

“…such a lovely party!”

Shahira smiled and looked suitably bashful. She had no idea what Javed Uncle had said.

She said a little sternly, “Shahaan, come with me.”

“Why?” he asked in a petulant tone.

“Because.”

“Why can’t I stay here with…
Abba
?”

Shahira felt her heart break with pain for her son. Hussain looked shell-shocked. He stared at her

as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened and needed directions on what to do. Her eyes filled

up with tears of anguish. Blinking them away she said softly, “Shahaan, Natasha wants to show you

something.”

She was devastated for her son, and angry at Hussain for giving him false hope. She glared at him,

not realizing her misery was reflected in her eyes. How dare he bring her son to this point? It was all

his fault, the selfish, insensitive man.

“Shahaan, go with your mother. We’ll chat later, okay?” Hussain said looking at him lovingly, like

a father would, and Shahira’s fury increased. What right did he have to play with the emotions of a

child,
her
child! She may be his employee but her son was not. Giving Hussain another censorious

glance, she marched off with Shahaan.

If looks could kill, Hussain thought, sardonically. He was pretty sure he hadn’t deserved it, and he

sure as hell wasn’t going to take it. She wasn’t his real wife to be throwing tantrums at him. His

thoughts went to Shahaan who’d bestowed such an honor on him. He felt a strange tug at his heart that

was both regret at having to break the little boy’s heart and a feeling of joy and gratitude. He

shouldn’t get involved. Wasn’t that exactly why he’d employed the teacher? To keep away from all

this responsibility?

Putting it out of his mind, he wandered off to mingle.

The mandatory dances had started and as usual, Shahira was on the dance floor. Today, she didn’t

look as happy or carefree, just more beautiful. They’d done two numbers already, one of which had

featured Natasha paired with Shahira. She took care of her, he realized with a sudden surge of deep

gratitude towards her. As far as he could see, she made no distinction between the two children. He’d

made a good decision.

“Hello, stranger.”

He turned, saw Nudrat walking towards him and smiled.

“Hello, Nudrat.”

They lightly touched their cheeks, and Nudrat said in a seductively low tone, “Are you still mad at

me?”

Hussain smiled tolerantly and replied politely, “Not at all, Nudrat. You’re one of my oldest

friends. You know how busy I’ve been.”

At that moment, one of his cousins, easily old enough to be her father, was the object of Shahira’s

frank admiration and basking in it.

“So, how long are you staying this time?” Nudrat asked a bit loudly.

He looked at her and shrugged, “I’m not sure yet.”

His gaze wandered back to Shahira. She was now dancing with the old cousin, looking the

happiest he’d seen her all evening. She was an enigma. She looked after the neglected, old, very

young, and the sick but she wasn’t a pushover like most nice people tended to be. He smiled and

wondered what she’d say if he told her what he’d started to dream about, of late.

Seething inwardly, Nudrat went to the powder room, refreshed her lipstick and tried to calm down.

The unknown brown sparrow from nowhere was younger, sure, but she lacked experience and

sophistication. What did Hussain see in that girl? She’d never seen him pay so much attention to any

woman before, not even Rutaba, who had been beautiful. The brown sparrow wasn’t even from the

same class. No way was she going to let her be a problem. Besides, Shahira didn’t have the guts to

fight dirty—as she could—and most of all, she lacked her cunning. Smiling, she blew a kiss to herself

in the mirror.

* * *

The languorous looks that Hussain kept throwing at Shahira were making her very nervous. They

had a pact, and she was not going to ever let
that
happen to her again.

She noticed Nudrat stayed beside Hussain nearly all evening. There was something about her body

language that made Shahira uncomfortable. Then she caught Nudrat brush something off of Hussain’s

jacket front, and the way her hand stayed on his chest for a bit too long, Shahira understood at once

what was between them.
All those times that Nudrat had asked and coaxed information about him,

she had been using her under the guise of friendship.

The realization made Shahira angry. Nudrat had wheedled out the little information she could about

Hussain, and she’d never suspected anything, fool that she was. Long ago she’d decided that she

would never be used again by anyone and from that moment, Nudrat ceased to be her friend. She had

forgiven enough transgressions for a lifetime.

She couldn’t help looking at Hussain contemptuously, making certain that they both knew that she

knew. He seemed to find her silent reprimand amusing because he smiled at her mockingly, laughing

at her, no doubt. She served dinner soon after, making sure everyone was having a good time, when

Hussain cornered her on her way to the kitchen.

“I can’t understand people with double standards. One should disapprove only if one is above

reproach. If I were dancing and flirting to my heart’s content I wouldn’t dream of looking down my

perky little nose at others.”

Shahira replied calmly, “You’re mistaken. I wasn’t being censorious. However it’s indecent and

cruel to subject people to behavior which is hurtful. Secondly, people who have dirty minds see filth

everywhere.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. Just don’t set an example for my daughter that I

wouldn’t want for her. Maybe you could be more discreet in
your
flirtations?”

Shahira wanted to retort something nasty but she noticed that Shahaan had gone to sleep in Aunty

Salma’s lap. She made do with a heated venomous look at him and made her way towards her

mother-in-law, apologizing, “Sorry Aunty, I didn’t realize he’d gone to sleep. I’ll take him.”

“He’s my grandson, Shahira, this is what grandmothers do. What are you apologizing for?”

Shahira had never forgotten for an instant that she was not actually. This was a job. She did not

have expectations beyond the terms of the contract. She didn’t expect anyone to look after her, or her

son. They’d been, and still were, on their own, and even though she’d grown very fond of Aunty

Salma and had grown to love Natasha, she still didn’t expect anything in return. She didn’t have the

right.

She was about to pick Shahaan up, when Hussain came out of nowhere, casually lifted him, and

said, “Don’t you think he’s a little too heavy for you to carry? He’s a big boy as he would tell you if

he were awake.”

“Please don’t bother.”

“It’s not a bother.”

Without a backward glance he climbed the stairs to Shahaan’s room. Shahira followed slowly.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was out of line and you’ve been wonderful to Natasha. I’ve

no complaints on that account and you were just having fun. So, please forget I said anything.”

He sounded sincere. She didn’t reply and followed him up the stairs. He was laying Shahaan down

on the bed by the time she caught up with him.

“Thank you. That was very kind of you. I could have asked one of the servants to help. You don’t

have to do…any of this.”

She paused awkwardly as she made Shahaan comfortable. She didn’t want his apologies or his

help—just distance.

Hussain stood where he was and then asked in a very low voice, that sounded almost ominous,

“And what exactly is ‘any of this’, Shahira?”

She felt ungracious saying it, but she’d decided to broach the subject before it was too late. She

had every right to protect her son. Who else did he have?

“I mean that you’re a very busy man. Shahaan is a child and children tend to make very quick

attachments and I don’t want to see him get hurt. You don’t even have time for Natasha, your own

flesh and blood. What place can Shahaan possibly have in your life? But children don’t understand

these things, do they? They just know how to love. And we forget their feelings are stronger and purer

and their understanding intuitive. So they know more, much more than we give them credit for. I don’t

want to see my son hurt any more than he already has been.”

Shahira caressed her son’s cheek lovingly and looked at Hussain, her face sad but determined. He

stared back at her endlessly, it seemed to her, and then without a word left the room.

* * *

Thankfully, the hot looks from Hussain ceased. He was cold and distant, but Aunty Salma became a

force to be reckoned with. Shahira and Hussain were thrown together at odd times, in strange

situations and it was impossible to thwart Aunty Salma. Shahira felt awkward and it was extremely

unpleasant for Hussain, judging from his rigid expression and cold silence, which was fine, except if

Aunty Salma was to be stopped they had to work together.

The first time, Shahira was abandoned by Aunty Salma at a clothes shop. She was just left standing

on the road and was trying to ascertain what had happened when a familiar black Mercedes cruised to

a halt beside her. Hussain sat stiff and clearly impatient in the driver’s seat. The drive home was

heavy with silence.

Next, Aunty Salma insisted that she’d promised to go to a distant relative’s house but now she just

couldn’t make it, so could Shahira go instead? Shahira, still an unsuspecting pawn, agreed. At five,

when she came down all dressed and ready to visit this relative she’d never heard of before, Hussain

was standing in the foyer, wearing his designer suit and looking at everything but her. When she

finally descended, he opened the door and stood waiting for her, his face a mask of complete and utter

boredom.

She walked out and into the passenger seat, as he held the door open for her. She’d never had any

one behave like this with her. She was a bit flustered and didn’t quite know how to respond. For an

hour they tried to find the house but there seemed to be something wrong with the address because

even when Hussain stopped and asked a few passers-by, no one had ever heard of the person or the

street.

Hussain scowled and after an hour of complete silence and no luck with their quest, they returned

home to find Aunty Salma waiting for them, her eyes shining. Shahira was suspicious but she couldn’t

prove anything.

Aunty Salma didn’t give up though.

She complained to Shahira after a few days, “I’ve asked Hussain so many times to do this for me

but he’s such an
angraiz
! Can you please go to Daata Saheb today and distribute food and pray in my

stead?”

Shahira was a believer, she couldn’t have refused going to Daata Saheb. She reached the
darbar

around one o’clock in the afternoon, crowded with a multitude of jostling, hopeful people. First she

went to the place where she had to give money for the
daigs
and food, and then she went to pray at the

shrine. It took her nearly twenty minutes. Turning back, she was struggling through the still dense

crowd, when someone caught her arm roughly. Startled, she looked back, and to her utter astonishment

Hussain stood there, looking like the wrath of God.

“What were you thinking, coming here on a Thursday of all days? And if you can’t handle big

crowds, you’re in the wrong place.” He was right about that—Thursdays and Fridays were the

busiest days.

He led her outside and asked shortly, “Where did you park your car?”

“Over there…near the cane shop…”

There was nothing there. Hussain gave her a look that told her exactly what he thought of her

parking skills. He went straight to the traffic sergeant, nodded to him, shook his hand, and received a

piece of paper from him.

“Let’s go,” he said shortly.

“But…my car…”

He stopped dead and, said briefly, “Towed.”

Shahira was upset. “But…it was legal parking. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Shahira, it’s nearly thirty-eight degrees centigrade out here and I’ve been here for two hours. Why

you’d pick this day, of all days, to come here, I don’t know, but thankfully, I was here.”

Shahira interrupted him, “What? Why thankfully? And what were you doing here, anyway?”

They’d reached his car, sensibly parked in the parking lot. He paid the man, opened the door for

her and when she had slid down listlessly, he closed it and came around.

And then it struck her.

“Wait! You’ve been here for two hours? Doing what?”

Obviously at the end of his tether, he replied icily, “Hmmm…let’s see…why do people come to

this place? I think I was in the mood for a new pair of loafers and I thought this was just the place to

get them.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” she answered primly. “I merely asked because…”