‘Not possible,’ her father said. ‘That's the safest place in the country. No one knows of it and no one ventures in there.’
‘People do know of it, Pa. Fool's paradise you live in,’ she muttered.
Her father paused for a minute and then asked, ‘Do you think something has been stolen? The house was locked for three weeks until you went there.’
‘I don't know,’ she said shortly.
‘Darya, tell me,’ her father said. ‘What made you think something was stolen?’
She debated again, for the hundredth time since yesterday, if she should tell her father about the man she'd caught staring at her yesterday.
Finally, she said, ‘No, Pa. Chill. I was just speculating.’ She walked over to the divan scattered with leftovers and bowls. Clearing some space, she sat down and said, ‘By the way, Vidisha was here. She got me some breakfast this morning.’
‘Vidisha?’ her father asked, surprised. ‘Doesn't she live in Mumbai now?’
‘She's giving up Constellation for rent. I tell you; we should do the same with Sea Swept.’
Her father took a deep breath. ‘Your mother and I think we should sell it off. That house has been too much trouble.’
‘What trouble has it been to us? Imagine how many people would want to stay in a lovely cottage by the sea.’ Darya said, singing the last few words.
Her father made no comment on the parody. ‘I'm surprised Filip didn't make a fuss,’ he murmured. ‘He's so protective of the lane. I remember he had background checks done for the newspaper-boy, the milkman, and the postman also. Would go bonkers if someone unknown set foot there even for a second.’
‘And you won't believe what happened just a few minutes before I called you, Pa.’ She told him about Zabel’s seizure, being carried away in an ambulance, and the bruises on Filip's body.
‘That's bad. She's never been violent before,’ her father remarked.
‘His cheeks were turning purple,’ she said, with a guilty chuckle.
‘Stop it, Darya.’
‘Sorry.’
‘That's why I say we should sell the house. Now you understand,’ her father muttered. ‘Nothing's the same. I'm growing old and you've been gallivanting. Who'll take care of the house and its tenants?’
Meanwhile, Darya had walked to the front door, her eyes on a piece of paper lying hidden in the shadows. She picked it up. It looked like a pamphlet. She traced the glossy yellow surface with her fingers and walked back to the bench.
How did this get inside?
‘Are you listening to me?’ her father asked. ‘Darya!’
‘What?’ she muttered.
‘We are selling the house.’
‘Yeah, okay. You do that. Meanwhile, I'll make merry of my time in Goa,’ Darya said. ‘There's a carnival on the 20th of this month. Bong-Bong Bohemia, it calls itself.’
‘Okay,’ her father said. ‘What's it about?’
‘Doesn't say. It's a yellow pamphlet with a few silhouettes: people dancing, balloons, clothes, lips, and something that looks like... firecrackers,’ she squinted, moving the sheet closer to her face, ‘... and tubes and funnels and things like that. Like stuff from a science lab, you know, and a clown at the bottom juggling all of this,’ she said.
‘That's it?’
‘Yeah,’ Darya said, noting a number and an email ID at the bottom to RSVP attendance.
‘Come back soon, D,’ her father said. He hesitated as though trying to frame his next thought, and Darya knew what was coming.
‘What about your office? This is a long holiday for you,’ he said cautiously.
‘They'll be okay,’ she replied. Time to ring off. ‘Bye, Pa,’ she said.
‘Wait, Darya.’
‘Bye, Pa. I think I'm getting another call on my phone,’ she lied.
‘Bye, darling. Call your mother sometime. And come back soon,’ he said in a low voice.
She ended his call, feeling guilty. When she rose from the divan, the pamphlet fell from her lap. She picked it up, folded it, and tucked it inside her pocket.
She was hungry now and happy to note that her appetite had improved in Goa. Her therapist would be pleased. But dinner had been lacklustre the last few days: only Maggi and a pint of beer. Vidisha's food had reminded her that she actually loved food, or once did, very much so. Darn. Vidisha was perfect housewife material. Maybe if Darya had been more like that, she would've netted a husband by now. Lived a comfortable life. But she was always looking for something beyond reach, something unattainable, and something...
... out of my league.
Like Spandan was. It had been exciting in the beginning: attending the fancy parties, jazz soirees, foreign film festivals. She had tried to keep up with the air-kissing and label-flaunting, but it had gotten too much. She had convinced herself it was good for her, she was learning the ways of a better world, understanding the mores of the rich and famous, but the ground was falling beneath her. She flew and flew until she couldn't see the bottom anymore.
To be settled, that's what she needed. To be loved, to be comfortable, to be ordinary.
I'm certainly dressing the part.
She looked at what she was wearing: the same pair of blue jeans and white T-shirt every day since she'd arrived.
It changes tomorrow, she told herself sternly.
At night, it was Maggi and beer again for dinner. After she'd washed and placed back the utensils, she decided to pop in to say goodbye to Vidisha and return her bowls. Also, she wanted to ask Vidisha what she was planning to do about Gaurav and her suspicions. Was she going to go to the police and tell them what she'd told Darya?
Darya's mind went back to her memories of Gaurav—a brash, domineering boy who revelled in conflict. He had always been bigger than the other children and took pride in physical intimidation. Both Vidisha and Anton often faced the brunt of his posturing and bullying, but he hadn't troubled Darya a lot. She suspected that was because he had a crush on her.
She collected the bowls and put them in a plastic bag. Then after fastening the windows and locking the front door, she walked towards Constellation.
‘Odd,’ she murmured, noticing that the front porch lights were off. Hadn't Vidisha returned from Panjim yet?
As she walked closer, Darya noticed a flicker of green light from the drawn curtains on one window and sighed in relief. She wouldn't have liked to walk back home with the pots and pans in her hands.
The night was quiet. A few stars in the sky. She heard the muted hum of the sea. The rustle of palm leaves. Her new rubber slippers broke a twig or two, but apart from that, her feet were soft on the grass.
She moved slowly, almost sauntering across the garden path.
She reached the front door and just as she was about to ring the bell, stopped.
Are those... voices?
She could be mistaken; the monsters in her head were usually quite noisy. But she was certain she'd heard voices, and it seemed to come from inside Constellation.
She pressed her ear to the door and listened—a female voice, probably Vidisha's, and... a male one.
Someone was with her inside.
Had Vidisha's lodger come in already?
She tried to hear what they were saying, but it all sounded muffled.
Then something fell with a bang right by the door, on the other side.
Darya jumped out of her skin. Dropped the bag she was holding.
Then a yelp.
Alarmed now, Darya rang the bell. ‘Vidisha,’ she shouted.
No answer.
She pressed the bell again, this time with greater force. Her palms were sweaty. Leaning, she pressed her ear to the door.
Nothing moved for a few seconds.
‘Vidisha,’ she said. Her lips grazed the door. ‘Are you inside?’
She heard voices. At first distant, then very close, moving away and then moving towards her.... a flurry of whispers.
But the door remained shut.
She knocked again. Then with her heart thudding in her chest, Darya edged close to the window on her side. It was latched and the curtains were drawn tight. She tapped on the window and called, ‘Vidisha, are you in there?’
Silence.
‘Is everything alright?’ Darya said. A trickle of sweat broke on her forehead.
... the same man as yesterday...?
Then she bit her lip in relief when Vidisha parted the curtains slightly and replied, ‘Darya, wait one second.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I'll be outside in a minute. I'm not decent.’
After what seemed like a long time, Vidisha opened the door and stood in front of her, looking out of breath. Her face was flushed. One cheek was redder than the other. Her white cotton nightdress seemed to have been hastily put on. The edge around one ankle hung awkwardly.
‘What's happening?’ Darya asked, trying to take a look inside. ‘I heard voices.’ But Vidisha's frame blocked her line of sight.
‘Are you alright?’ Darya asked.
‘Yes, yes,’ Vidisha said. She tucked a non-existent tuft of hair behind her ear. ‘What brings you here so late?’
‘This,’ Darya extended the plastic bag towards her.
Vidisha gave a weak smile and took it. ‘You didn't have to,’ she said.
‘I heard voices...’ Darya started and let it hang, hoping Vidisha would fill in.
I did hear someone, or... did I?
‘TV... I was watching TV. No one else is here,’ Vidisha muttered.
‘Sure?’ Darya said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Ya, ya,’ she said and attempted a chuckle which came out like a grotesque hiccup. ‘No Zabel Aunty to kick me here, thank God.’
Darya hesitated. Wondered what to do next.
‘Good night, Darya,’ Vidisha said, moving to shut the door when Darya held out a hand to stop her.
‘Wait. I also wanted to talk about Gaurav. What we started talking about this morning.’
Vidisha rested her shoulder on the door frame and closed her eyes.
‘Can we talk later?’ she murmured.
‘Give me your number,’ Darya said. ‘We can talk once I'm back in Mumbai.’
‘Accha, wait. I'll write it down for you.’ She leaned inside for a second. Brought out a pen. A notepad. Scribbled quickly. Handed it over. ‘Give me a missed call. I'll store your number. Also, give me your email ID. We are moving soon. Not sure when and where. So, it might be difficult to meet in Mumbai.’
‘Sure thing,’ Darya said.
‘Call me,’ Vidisha said, her face ghostly pale in the dim green light of the hallway.
Darya clipped her head and said, ‘I will.’ Then turned to leave, her head buzzing with questions.
What the hell just happened?
An Odd Phone Call
What, again?
The ringing mobile woke Darya up at seven a.m. She rolled over and picked it up.
‘Vidisha,’ Darya grunted. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Ya, ya. We met yesterday na? What's going to happen to me?’ she said.
Darya had pondered over Vidisha's odd behaviour for a long-time last night. ‘Yesterday, I thought—’ she began.
‘I was feeling sick,’ Vidisha said. ‘I took a bath and had just turned on the TV when you came.’
‘Are you okay now?’ Darya asked
‘Ya. Must have caught the same bug as you,’ Vidisha replied.
‘Okay then,’ Darya said. ‘You should've slept longer today then. To flush it out.’
‘No need anymore,’ she said. ‘Okay, listen, what are you up to?’
Darya pried her eyes open. Propped herself up on the elbows.
‘Umm...’
‘Come. Meet your new neighbour.’
‘Is he here already?’
‘Oh ya, and he's quite cute. You should make him your boyfriend.’ She said in one breath, ending with a giggle.
‘Good thought,’ Darya muttered to herself. Sitting up, she rested her feet on the floor. ‘I'll meet him later. He's going to be here, after all,’ she spoke into the phone.
‘But I'm leaving, no?’ Vidisha said.
‘I'm not ready,’ Darya said, feeling irritable. She was somewhat sorry she had renewed her friendship with Vidisha over the past days; she'd the nagging feeling it wasn't going to lead to anything good.
‘Come on out, it doesn't matter. Okay, wait a second...’ she turned away from the phone to speak to someone next to her.
‘What was that?’ Darya asked. She fumbled with the strings of her pyjamas and got up. Wondered if she should ring off.
‘One second,’ Vidisha said.
‘Vidisha, I want to go back to bed. Can I talk to you...?’
Vidisha cut in. ‘Your new neighbour is as shy as you are,’ she giggled. Then called out, ‘Aaron, you wait right here and meet Darya, my lovely neighbour, now yours.’
‘Who?’ Darya's heart lurched. ‘What's the name you said?’
‘Aaron Dorji,’ Vidisha said. ‘He's from somewhere in the Northeast. Very literary type... sings also. And...’ she added in a stage whisper, ‘Very, very hunky.’
Darya exhaled noisily.
Of all the people in bloody Goa, Aaron Dorji had come to stay next door to her in Constellation. Why couldn't it have been Francis instead?
Then she paused to think: if Aaron moves in next door, maybe... just maybe Francis will visit him? Or perhaps... but that was too much to expect.
Nevertheless, with hope in her voice, she asked, ‘Is he going to be living alone?’
‘Accha! Already thinking about all that?’ Vidisha exclaimed. Then in reply to her question, ‘That's what he told me.’
Darya's heart sank.
Vidisha said. ‘Okay, listen. I really need to leave before the traffic. Come say hello, and I'll leave. Come soonest,’ she sang and rang off.
Darya climbed out of bed, pulled on her jeans and T-shirt, and walked outside. She glanced at the mirror on her way; messy hair; swollen eyes; splotches of dried lipstick on her cheeks. Bad scene.
Outside, Vidisha was standing in the garden of her house. Aaron was a few feet apart, lounging by the fence. They seemed to be in serious conversation when Vidisha noticed Darya and waved for her to come over.
‘Helloooo,’ she said. ‘He tells me you two have already met. He says his assistant knows you and told him your name and also about uncle's passing away. You went to buy some books or folders from his shop? Surprising, I told him. Darya reads?’ Then after a brief titter at her own joke, ‘You two will hit it off, that much I'm sure. Okay tada buh bye, I'm leaving.’ She opened the door of her car.
Stunned by the volley of words, Darya could only nod.
But Vidisha wasn't finished.
‘He saw the jeep and was very amazed. His eyes went big.’ She made two round O's with her hands. ‘I told him; you don't know our Darya. She's very talented. I told him the jeep belonged to Uncle Paritosh and you were only driving it temporarily.’
Aaron hadn't looked at Darya from the time she'd joined them. His face was grim. A tick played in his jaw.
What's the matter with him? He couldn't be that upset that she was his neighbour.
‘By the way Darya, Zabel Aunty is back.’ Vidisha said, getting into the car. ‘I wanted to meet her, but my sons have exams starting today. I need to get back.’
‘I'll go see her,’ Darya said. ‘Will pass on your wishes.’
Vidisha flashed her a thumbs up. Then craning her neck to address Aaron, ‘You take care, tenant. And take care of the house. Be mindful of the Castelinos. Don't upset them because you know what's at stake,’ she turned to Darya. ‘I'll see you soon. I'm coming again in a few days.’
‘Okay, yeah,’ Darya said. Then—‘Vidisha...’
‘Haan?’ Vidisha said, looking up at her expectantly.
‘We did not finish our conversation yesterday.’ Darya glanced at Aaron. He was digging his heels into the ground and seemed to be
out of earshot. She dropped her voice to a whisper anyway. Leaned closer.
‘About Gaurav and your parents'—’
‘Ya, ya, that,’ Vidisha said, fingers clenching on the steering wheel, ‘but no one believes me.’
‘No, I...’
‘You didn't.’
Darya said slowly, ‘It just seems fantastical that Gaurav...’
‘Shhh...,’ she said, cocking her face towards Aaron in a gesture of warning. ‘Listen, next time I'll get some hard evidence and then we'll talk.’
‘Evidence against Gaurav?’ Darya asked, uncertainly.
‘Yes. Then I can go to the police. With evidence, they'll believe me.’
‘What evidence? Where will you get it from?’ Darya asked.
Vidisha pursed her lips. ‘I'm thinking about it,’ she said vaguely.
This new Vidisha was confusing Darya. She went from effervescent and empty-headed to curt and scheming in minutes. Had she always been like this? Darya wasn't sure. She'd let a lot of her childhood memories slip away from her.
‘Okay, hope you find what you're looking for,’ Darya said. Straightening, she took a step back. ‘I'm not going to be staying for long.’
‘I'll be back in a few days. I'll tell you everything then.’ And before Darya could respond, started the engine, swerved the car, and sped away into the street.
Darya stood for a moment, deep in thought. Then looked up as Aaron walked towards her, dressed in a black shirt and pale-yellow pants, hands buried deep inside his pockets.
Their eyes met. She smiled uneasily.
Then it came out of nowhere.
‘You'd rather it was Francis, right?’ he said.
‘Uh...’ Her heart gave a lurch.
‘You wish Francis had come to stay in this house instead of me,’ he said matter-of-factly, rocking on his heels. ‘I saw you two talking the other day. He's a nice-looking chap, popular with the ladies.’
F'ing hell. It was that obvious, was it?
Her words came fast. ‘I... no... I mean... what... of course not... I am happy you are going to stay...’
His lips twisted into a smile. ‘Doesn't look like it,’ he said.
‘That's not true,’ Darya protested. She sensed a new coldness in him, a trace of wariness, as if he were evaluating her with new eyes, with new perspective. It puzzled her.
The Darya Nandkarni Misadventures Omnibus: Books 1-3 Page 7
