Chaya closed her eyes. ‘I don’t really want a man who is intimidated by me.’
‘No, no, of course not. But you can make an effort for the first time you meet. You know you never...’
‘...get a second chance to make a first impression,’ said Chaya. ‘I know.’
‘Amma,’ said Malini, stepping in between them. ‘Why don’t you go and check that Leela has got everything in the kitchen. Chaya and I can manage the sari.’
Amma hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ both sisters said in unison.
When Amma had bustled out, Malini beckoned Chaya to stand in front of the mirror.
‘Hold still, Chaya,’ said Malini, pinning the sari into place at the shoulder and the hip. ‘There. That’s better.’ She put her hands on her sister’s shoulders and turned her towards the mirror. ‘There.’
The sari was peacock-blue silk with a purple and green design on the border. Her hair had been carefully dried and styled. A pair of Malini’s earrings dangled from her ears. She had make-up on. She looked elegant and composed, words she would never have applied to herself before.
Malini’s face appeared next to her own. ‘You look lovely, Nangi,’ Malini said. Chaya looked sideways at her sister. Next to Malini, she couldn’t help but look plain. Even after two children, Malini was still beautiful. Chaya could never compete. But then, she’d never tried.
Malini gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘There’s no need to be nervous,’ she said. ‘Let’s hope he’s the right one.’
Chaya sighed. ‘What are the chances of that happening? Mr Right just turning up in my living room.’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ said Malini.
‘I don’t even know what I’m looking for,’ said Chaya. ‘So how can I know if I’ve found it?’ She turned to face her sister. ‘What am I looking for?’
Malini cocked her head to one side, thinking. ‘Someone you can live with, I guess. Someone whose company you can bear day in day out.’
The metal gate clanked as someone rapped on it.
‘They’re here,’ said Chaya. Her stomach dropped. A sense of dread settled on her.
Malini peered out of the window. ‘Yes.’ She came back. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s really nice.’
Chaya looked at her reflection again and patted her hair nervously. Perspiration was starting to bead on her upper lip.
She thought of the stranger that she was going to meet. If she liked him and he liked her, they would become… what? A couple? Or just married to each other. It wasn’t the same thing. She had been half of a couple once. Could she ever be again? The darkness in her stirred and with it came a sense of something crucial. Her life was finely balanced on the outcome of the next few hours.
‘I don’t want to do this,’ she said, turning away.
Malini laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Maybe not,’ she conceded. ‘But honestly, it will be fine.’ She turned Chaya round to face her. ‘You’ll like him.’
‘What if he doesn’t like me?’
Malini laughed. ‘He’d be an idiot not to like you. You’re wonderful.’
There was a knock on the door. Malini said, ‘Yes?’
Malini’s husband Ajith popped his head round the door, looking slightly harassed. ‘You ready?’ He came into the room properly and took Malini’s hand. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he said to Chaya, making shooing motions with his free hand. ‘Just be yourself.’
Chaya turned round and gave him her most withering look.
Ajith grinned. ‘Okay then. Pretend you’re someone interesting.’
Malini gave him a dig in the ribs. Chaya was too nervous to rise to the bait. She would have to get him back later. Malini and Ajith had said they were staying out of the encounter because they didn’t want to overwhelm the poor guy and his family. Chaya knew that this wasn’t true. They were staying away because whenever they were together, Malini’s beauty completely overshadowed her sister. She was grateful.
Chaya looked at Malini and her husband, standing hand in hand, wishing her well. They looked comfortable together.
She thought of her lonely little bedsit and her lab bench hidden by bottles and gas cylinders. It would be nice to have companionship. In order to find it, she had to go out and meet this man. She took a deep breath, fixed a smile on her face and stepped out of the room.
* * *
Amma and Thatha had shown the visitors into the ‘best’ sitting room. They all stood up as Chaya approached. Amma came over to Chaya’s side. ‘This is my daughter, Chaya,’ she said, taking her arm. Chaya wondered whether she should be walking in with her eyes downcast in order to look demure. The thought made her smile.
As they greeted each other, the man looked at her, his gaze sweeping from head to foot and back up again. Chaya found herself doing the same. He was thin and tall and looked pleasant enough.
When the introductions were done, she sat down next to Amma and started with her opening gambit. ‘What do you do?’
‘I’m a doctor,’ he said.
‘Oh, what sort?’ said Chaya.
‘Gastroenterologist,’ he smiled. ‘I gather you’re a doctor too. What’s your specialism?’
‘Microbiology.’
‘Oh, a proper doctor then!’
Chaya gave a little laugh. ‘Hardly, I think proper doctors are the ones that treat proper patients.’
‘What does it matter?’ said Varuna’s father. ‘Both take about seven years to qualify for, right?’
‘True,’ said Chaya, nodding. So far so good.
‘I hear you live in London,’ said Varuna, ‘I did my undergrad at King’s’
‘I love London,’ Varuna’s mother interrupted. ‘It’s so glamorous! Have you been?’ she asked Amma.
‘No, we never managed to visit England when Chaya was at Oxford,’ said Amma, neatly slipping in Chaya’s most saleable asset.
‘Oh you must go! We went to Varuna’s graduation. It was very exciting.’
Chaya hadn’t even bothered to book her graduation, preferring instead to spend the time working. ‘I haven’t booked a ceremony yet,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to organise that sometime soon.’
She wondered if Varuna realised how blatantly their mothers were showing off to each other. Seeing the glance he sent his mother, she decided she should try to like this guy.
* * *
A short while later, Amma suggested they go for a walk round the garden, in the hope that the change of scenery would make conversation flow.
‘So,’ Varuna said as they trailed round after their mothers, who were having a loud conversation about roses. ‘Did you watch the cricket last week?’
Chaya shook her head ruefully. ‘Don’t really follow it, sorry.’
‘Do you like art?’
‘Not really.’
‘Theatre?’
She had not paid attention to anything outside her work in years. ‘Sorry.’
‘Books?’
‘Okay. I can do books,’ she gave him a smile.
‘Right ho, then. What’s your favourite book?’
‘Little Women,’ she said, relieved. ‘What’s yours?’
He frowned. ‘I read a lot of non fiction. Histories and war memoirs, mostly.’
They looked at each other. Neither said anything, but it was clear that this was a waste of time.
Chapter Twelve
Gimhana – Colombo, 2005
The woman Gimhana was being introduced to was lovely. It was awful. She had a sort of hopeful guilelessness about her that made him feel like a heel for wasting her time.
What made things worse was that she was quite clearly interested in him. As they sat near each other, drinking tea, she asked him questions and seemed to genuinely listen to his replies. Why had he agreed to do this? There was no way he could tie this nice girl to a marriage of convenience. How did he get out of this without too many people getting hurt?
The only thin
g he could do was to be uncharacteristically standoffish. His answers got shorter and more curt. He was as distant as he could be without being rude. His mother kept giving him puzzled glances.
By the time they left, the lady looked a little sad. Gimhana felt bad about that too. He had taken the poor woman’s enthusiasm and trampled it into the ground. He had thought this pretending to be interested thing would be easy, but it really wasn’t. He couldn’t do this. He knew who he was. He could pretend to be someone else, but if he married this woman, she’d expect him to sleep with her. Maybe more than once. That idea made him feel queasy. He’d assumed that he’d be able to deal with deceiving someone to reach his own ends. It turned out he wasn’t as ruthless as he’d thought.
‘What was that all about?’ his mother said, the minute they’d pulled out onto the road. ‘Did you have to be rude to that poor girl?’
‘I’m sorry, Amma,’ said Gimhana. ‘I don’t think… she’s not right for me.’ He glared out of the windshield and concentrated on driving. He had learned to drive here, but coming back, the way people drove was always a shock. As much as he disliked it, he had agreed to drive when they went on these trips, partly because he could claim to be concentrating and delay awkward conversation a little. Clearly, not today.
‘Really? What was wrong with her?’ His mother leaned forward. She was sitting in the back, behind his father.
‘She seemed very nice. They are a good family,’ his father put in. ‘I don’t see what there is to object to.’
‘I don’t know. There’s something...’ Ugh. This was harder than he’d expected, largely because they were right. There was nothing wrong with her. He just couldn’t go through with it.
‘Well, you were so rude to her, I’m sure she’s not interested in you now,’ said his mother. She gave a little huff and settled back. ‘I don’t know why you asked us to find someone for you, if you were just going to find excuses for not liking any of them,’ she grumbled.
Now was probably not the time to point out that she had been nagging him to find a wife for the past ten years. No. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
There was an annoyed silence for the rest of the journey. No one said a word until he stopped the car outside the gates to their house and beeped the horn for the servant boy to come and open them.
‘Well, there’s one more person to see,’ Ammi said. ‘Then I’m giving up. I despair.’
Gimhana said nothing. Ammi would come round and would be presenting women to him again in no time.
‘At least we don’t have to take time out to go visit them,’ Ammi said. ‘They’ll be at the party next week.’
Chapter Thirteen
Chaya – Colombo, 2005
Chaya’s holiday was nearly over and, despite her best efforts not to, she was thinking about work again. Malini came round after dropping the kids at school. When she came in, Chaya was sitting at the dining table making notes on a paper she was reviewing. Leela had left her a snack – a plate of pineapple slices under a cloth. Amma was on the phone gently telling another potential mother-in-law that Chaya wasn’t interested.
Malini shook her head sadly. ‘What was wrong with that one?’ she whispered, dropping into a chair and mopping her face with her handkerchief. ‘He seemed really nice.’
‘You can’t be serious! He agreed with everything everyone said!’ Chaya whispered back. ‘The man’s a doormat.’
‘God, you’re fussy,’ said Malini. She grabbed a slice of pineapple and bit into it, hand under her chin to catch the drips of juice.
‘Well… maybe I am. I thought anyone “suitable” for Amma and Thatha would do… but honestly, I can’t spend the rest of my life being bored silly by my husband!’
Malini chewed her fruit thoughtfully. ‘That’s fair enough,’ she said. ‘But can’t you lower your standards a little?’
Chaya glowered at her.
‘Okay. You can’t.’ Malini raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Isn’t there anyone you liked?’
Chaya thought for a moment. ‘There was wotsisname, the doctor. He was nice. But we had nothing in common,’ she said. ‘Apart from that, no, nobody.’
At the other end of the living room, Amma put the phone down and sighed. ‘He liked you,’ she said, joining them at the table.
Chaya snorted. ‘He wouldn’t have the guts to dislike anyone.’
‘This is turning out to be much harder than I thought.’ Amma sighed and shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Chaya. You’re so choosy. Maybe I’ll never find a man for you.’
There was silence around the table. Chaya thought perhaps now would be a good time to put an end to the whole idea. She had met a few men since she’d arrived. At first she had been optimistic, feeling a flutter of anticipation before each meeting. Now, increasingly, she was giving up hope. Malini had said she should go with her gut feeling. She had felt nothing towards any of the men she’d met. Not even mild interest. The whole thing was a waste of time and it was getting on her nerves. She had better things to do. Like work.
‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘we should call it a day and stop looking?’
Amma and Malini looked at each other. Amma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I don’t know. We shouldn’t give up that easily.’
Chaya pulled a face. ‘Not looking likely though, is it?’
Amma sighed again. ‘Well, there are a few more on my list…’
‘Oh Amma, I’m sick of it. All I’ve done since I got here is meet strangers. I really appreciate that you’ve tried, but don’t you think we could stop now?’
Amma looked at her and shook her head. ‘But we have to find you somebody.’ Her voice rose at the end.
‘Yes,’ said Chaya gently. ‘But you don’t have to find him right away. Maybe we should just relax and enjoy my last week here. I can always come back next year and meet some others.’
‘Hmm,’ said Malini. ‘Maybe she has a point. Maybe we’re trying too hard.’ She laid a hand on top of Amma’s. ‘Maybe we should see if we can find her someone who lives in England. We can talk to their family and see if we can arrange for them to meet in London.’
At the thought of the possibility of the search carrying on in England, Chaya suppressed a shudder. But Amma and Malini were trying so hard, it was important that she didn’t obstruct them. Besides, it would be so much easier if they were in England already. Maybe that would work.
‘I suppose I can ask Veena Aunty to keep an eye out…’ said Amma, warming to the idea.
She looked so relieved, that Chaya had to smile. She would take the temporary reprieve for now and worry about the people in England later.
‘So,’ she said, pushing her advantage whilst she could. ‘Does that mean we can relax now?’
‘I suppose,’ said Amma. ‘Except for tomorrow night.’
‘Tomorrow night?’ said Chaya. ‘What’s happening tomorrow?’
‘Mr and Mrs Wimalarathne’s Silver Jubilee party, remember,’ said Malini. ‘We’re all going.’
Chaya groaned. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’
‘Suri Nanda was going to introduce you to someone at the party,’ said Amma. ‘She seemed to think he was very nice.’
‘Do I have to?’ said Chaya. ‘I doubt Suri Nanda’s tastes are anything like mine.’
‘Chaya, don’t be rude,’ said Amma. ‘You should. It’s not nice otherwise.’
‘Besides,’ said Malini, nudging her. ‘Who knows, he might be the man of your dreams.’
Chapter Fourteen
Chaya – Oxford, 1995
It was raining. Chaya was meant to be reading papers about glucose oxidase, but she kept getting distracted. She watched the water trickle down the window and wondered what Noah was doing. She kept thinking she’d seen him and every time she realised she was mistaken, a hope she hadn’t even been aware of having fluttered and died in her chest. It was like being haunted by someone who was still alive. It was infuriating.
She wondered where he was a
t that moment. Was he staring out of a window at this same rain?
‘Chaya?’ Sara’s voice cut through her thoughts.
‘Huh? What?’ She turned back into the room. Compared to the dull wet outside, the room felt warm and cheerful. Sara was sitting at the small dining table, with a textbook in front of her. Jay was in his usual position, lying on the sofa with a book propped up on his belly. Even from opposite sides of the room they seemed joined by an invisible cord. There was a sense of ease and comfort about them. Chaya envied them their contentment.
Sara was looking at her expectantly. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘Er…’ Chaya looked at Jay for help. He raised his hands, indicating that she was on her own.
‘You haven’t been listening to a word I said,’ said Sara.
‘Um…’
Sara rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Jay and I are going to a party this evening. Would you like to come with us?’ she said, enunciating each word with exaggerated care.
Chaya looked at Jay again. He peered over his book and said, ‘It’s a house party at Keith’s. Should be good fun.’
She’d met Keith. He was a friend of Jay’s. She pulled a face. ‘I don’t know…’
‘Oh come on,’ said Sara. ‘You can’t sit around moping all the time. It’ll do you good. I’m sick of seeing you so miserable.’
Chaya looked at the photocopied research papers she was meant to be reading and felt guilty.
Jay sat up. ‘Look mate,’ he said, ‘Sara’s right. You have been bloody miserable these past few weeks. We’re worried about you.’
She opened her mouth to argue, but realised they had a point. Ever since she’d turned Noah down for a second time, she’d been distracted and a bit down. Telling herself to stop being silly and get on with her work wasn’t working. She couldn’t concentrate anyway, so maybe going out would shake her out of her rut.
A Convenient Marriage Page 6
