The Delhi Deception (15 page)

Kishan returned with the tea and a platter of hot pakoras, dainty cucumber sandwiches, and slices of buttered banana bread. During tea they made small talk about the weather. And then, Elouise asked the dreaded question: “So how was your trip?”

George smiled, as smooth as ever, Carla thought, and said, “Fantastic. I had a great time. What about you, Carla?”

“Uh! Great.” Carla coughed and dabbed at her mouth with the embroidered napkin bought from the Mother Theresa’s order in Calcutta.

“So where did you guys go?”

Carla took a huge bite from the pakora on her plate. Holding her hand over her mouth, she gestured with the other to George for a response to Elouise.

Amused by Carla’s discomfort and with a mischievous flicker in his eyes, he related their itinerary to Elouise. “We had dinner at home and then decided to drive through to Jaipur so that we could spend the following day there and return the same evening. There was a group of Italians also staying at the Rambagh Palace, and they joined us on our elephant-back tour of the amber fort. They had just returned from Udaipur, and it didn’t take much for them to convince us to include it in our itinerary. The next morning we took the early flight to Udaipur. Kamal, my driver, drove through the night, and he was at the airport the next morning to pick us up.”

“Did you stay at the Lake Palace?” Elouise asked.

Narrowing his eyes discernibly, George hesitated before replying, “No, actually we decided to stay at the new Leela Hotel. It’s also on Lake Pichola.”

“Oh no, I love the Lake Palace; we spent part of our honeymoon there.” Elouise smiled, wistfully it seemed to Carla.

Clever George
, Carla thought,
choosing a new hotel, guessing that Elouise would have stayed at the world-famous Lake Palace Hotel.
Elouise had always been a comfort creature, right from their days at college when she had to have her special thread-count sheets and cookies from home.

“So, what did you think of it?” Elouise asked Carla.

“I loved it, so beautiful. The sun setting over the lake, turning the marble palace pink, it was awesome.”

She remembered reading something like this and was about to continue her narrative when George interrupted her somewhat abruptly by saying, “Look at the time; I must get going. I have a meeting at six.” He got up and kissed Elouise on her cheeks, thanking her for the tea. Then he turned toward Carla, and with his back to Elouise, grinned broadly at her as he pulled her up. She understood the questioning look. It was the moment where she had to decide how she wanted Elouise to perceive her relationship with George. She hesitated for a second. Then she kissed him, on the lips. A searing desire made her legs feel like liquid, and she had to sit down quickly. George left with a promise to call her later.

Elouise sat back in her chair and sighed. “Carla, I’m glad you had a good time, but I was really worried. George phones to tell me you were going on this trip, and then his driver, Kamal, rocks up here and asks for an overnight bag with your clothes. Kind of weird. And still no phone call from you…”

“I’m so sorry, Elouise. I know it was irresponsible of me, but I was so caught up in the moment, the adventure. It was exactly what I needed. George is a great guy. He made me forget.” Annoyed with herself, Carla could feel herself blushing.

Elouise stared at her with unnerving concentration. Then she relaxed and said, “You’re right. Life is short, and we need to live it in any way we can. Go rest a little; tonight we’re going to a sangeet.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s one of the many Indian wedding functions. It’s meant to be a singing and dancing party.”

“So how many functions are there in total?”

“It depends on the family, but on average about four.”

“I’m not sure, would love to go, but I’m bushed. An early night with a book sounds like bliss to me. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

With a relieved smile, Carla got up and said, “You haven’t shown me the rest of the house. Do you mind?”

Elouise smiled with pleasure. Carla knew she was proud of her beautiful home. “No, of course not. Come.”

An open courtyard divided the bungalow. To the right were the guest wing and an informal sitting room. Harry and Elouise’s bedroom was on the left next to their children’s rooms. The rooms were large and spacious with a study leading off of each. Harry’s study was locked with an antique-looking brass lock. The children’s study was identical to Harry’s. Carla noted with relief that Harry’s study also had an exit to the back courtyard.

After expressing her admiration and thanks to Elouise, Carla went to her room. She lay down on the bed, but instead of relaxing, her heart started pounding in anticipation of what George had asked of her.

.

CHAPTER 10

E
louise was dressed and eating her breakfast of fruit and yogurt when Carla joined her on the veranda carrying the cup of tea Kishan had brought her in bed. She had switched off the air-conditioning during the night and had woken up hot and sticky, and so had decided to drink her tea on the veranda, where a faint morning breeze was just beginning to stir, rustling the leaves of the large mango tree.

“Good morning! You’re up early!” she said to her friend.

Elouise smiled and blew her a kiss. “Yup, have to be at school today. We’re discussing the summer fair. You know me, always the sucker to get nominated as fundraiser.”

“I’m sure you have loads of fun bossing all those other moms around.”

“I guess. What are your plans today, meeting George?”

“Not sure; we’ll chat later and decide.” Kishan brought her a glass of watermelon juice and asked her if she’d like something to eat. “I’d love some scrambled eggs on toast. Thanks, Kishan.” Carla took a sip of the sweet, refreshing juice and asked Elouise, “Is Harry back yet?”

“He got back yesterday morning.”

“Has he had his breakfast?”

“Yes, he eats pretty early, normally in bed.”

“Then he goes to the office, I suppose.”

Elouise looked at Carla for a second and said, “Yes, I suppose he does, but why all these questions?”

Carla laughed a little self-consciously and said, “No reason, I guess I’m just curious about day-to-day living in Delhi.”

“Are you thinking of settling down here by any chance?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not.”

“Just checking.” Elouise smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m taking Om Prakash with me. Parking is a real nightmare near the school. The taxi stand is on Lodhi Road on the other side of the park. It’s not far, so if you need a car, Kishan will send one of the chowkidars to fetch one for you. We know all the drivers, and they know who we are, so you don’t have to worry about being ripped off.”

“Thanks, that’s great to know. I think I’ll try to contact my dad’s aunt; she’s the most senior member of the family and always had a soft spot for my dad. Let’s see, maybe she’ll invite me for tea. Will you be back for lunch?”

“I don’t think so. These meetings often run into long lunches.”

“And Harry, will he be back for lunch?”

“Not usually, but who knows. You shouldn’t worry about us; Kishan has lunch ready every day, whether we’re here or not.”

“Great, maybe I’ll eat at home then.”

Elouise looked at her watch and said, “Got to dash. Will I see you for drinks this evening?”

“Yes, of course. Have a nice day.”

Elouise hurried to the car and waved to Carla as Om Prakash drove off in the white Ambassador.

Right. My first day as an official spy
, Carla thought, a sardonic grin twisting the corners of her mouth.
What now?
Kishan brought her breakfast and asked if she wanted tea. She nodded.
I suppose I should start after breakfast
. When she had finished eating, Kishan brought her tea, Carla asked, “Kishan, how many staff are you altogether in the Singh household?”

Smiling coyly he replied, “Many, many servant, Madam.”

“I see, but how many? Five or fifty?”

He laughed loudly and said, “No, no, Madam, not so many, maybe ten together.”

“Do they all stay on the property?”

“No, Madam. Only two driver, ayah, cook, houseboy and housemaid stay in servant quarter. The chowkidar come for day or night shift only. The mali come in morning and leave evening, and Harry Sahib peon come morning and sometime stay all day here or sometime go with Sahib.”

“What is a peon?”

Kishan frowned. “Madam not know this?”

Carla shook her head. “No, I’ve never heard that word before.”

“Oh, I see. Umm, he is helping Harry Sahib in study. Sometimes he going post office or making typing.”

“OK, like a secretary?”

Kishan was relieved and said, “Yes, Madam. Like this.”

That could be a bit of a problem
, thought Carla. She had hoped to have access to Harry’s study when he was at work. A secretary occupying the same space would complicate things.

“What about your family, Kishan? Do you have children?”

“Yes, Madam. I have one girl and one boy.”

‘Do they live here with you?”

“No, they are in my village with wife and family. My son is in eleventh standard, and he is very good boy. Next year Madam Elouise is paying for him to study in college here in Delhi.”

“That’s wonderful, what does he want to study?”

“Computers.” Kishan lifted his head slightly and Carla detected the pride in his eyes.

“What about your daughter?”

Looking down at his feet he replied, “Big problem, Madam, big problem.”

“Why, is she sick?” Carla asked, alarmed.

“No, but she is very ugly. Very dark. Even with big dowry I can’t find husband for her.”

Carla’s mouth opened in shock and surprise.
Was he serious?
“I’m sure that’s not true. And in any case, she doesn’t have to be married, she could study and get a job somewhere.”

Kishan shifted his feet and said, “My daughter she stop school when she is fourteen. She must help her mother in the field. In my village if boy studies it is very good.”

Memories of Nazeema’s story flashed through her mind. Carla felt quite ill. She looked at Kishan and noticed the serenity and kindness in his face. He must love his daughter, yet these circumstances, socially accepted by millions of poor Indians, made him inhumane. Is it cruelty or just a fact of life in their arduous existence?”

“Do you have a photo of your daughter, Kishan?”

He laughed and took out a tatty wallet from his trousers’ back pocket. He pulled out a few photos and showed Carla a formal looking family portrait. Carla looked at it and smiled. A proud looking Kishan stood next to his wife, a tiny pretty woman, not smiling. His son, almost the same height as his father, suppressed a smile. Next to him stood his sister, She was beaming. Her face was round and sweet and her smooth complexion looked like polished walnut, eyes bright with mirth. Unfortunately her teeth spoiled her beautiful smile. Her front teeth looked like they were jutting out of the top half of her gum and the incisors climbed over the canines. “She’s not ugly at all! All she needs is a good orthodontist.” Carla was smiling and handed it back to Kishan.

Kishan asked, “What is that?”

“A doctor, dentist? It’s someone who can fix teeth. It is easy and not very painful.”

Regarding her for a few moments he replied, “Madam, my village is very small and even doctor is far away. Where I must find this man?”

Embarrassed by her insensitivity, she should have known an orthodontist was hardly accessible to the majority of rural Indians, barely scraping a living together.

She stood up and said, “Kishan, I will talk to Madam Elouise about this. I would like to help your daughter, if that’s all right with you?” With a shy nod and smile he took her empty cup and returned to the kitchen.

Carla returned to her bedroom for a shower and decided to speak to Elouise about the possibility of helping this girl at the earliest opportunity.

Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a white linen shirt, she thought it might be a good idea to see Harry’s study from the back courtyard. Carla remembered that Elouise had mentioned a vegetable garden in the back. Feigning interest, she asked the mali to show it to her. He smiled with obvious pleasure, leading her to the garden. They passed the back courtyard and crossed the immaculate lawn. The vegetable garden was much larger than Carla had expected. It stretched from the back courtyard along the fence bordering the adjacent Lodhi Garden.

The mali pointed out the neat little rows of his verdant pride, chatting happily in Hindi, oblivious to the fact that Carla could not understand a word. A high wall separated the servants’ quarters from the vegetable garden. Carla looked back and saw a wooden swing in the back courtyard. She thanked the mali and walked toward the large Indian jula, with its ornate carvings, hanging on thick brass chains tarnished black. She smiled and sat on it, swinging herself backward and forward, enjoying the motion.

Her view of Harry’s study was perfect. She scrutinized it as unobtrusively as possible. It had a teak double door with a brass bolt and lock, much like the doors in the rest of the house. The door was open, the brass lock hanging loosely in the bolt. She could see movement through the cane blinds inside both windows. She sat watching patiently to see who was inside. After about twenty minutes, the houseboy came through the door with a broom and bucket. He then closed, bolted, and locked the door with the large brass padlock. Seeing Carla on the swing, he greeted her politely and walked past her toward the kitchen. The study seemed quiet and dark, as if the lights had been switched off. Carla sat on the swing for a few more minutes and then decided that there was no one in the study.