A Convenient Marriage

by A Convenient Marriage (retail) (epub)

  The aunty gave her an air kiss on the cheek. ‘Let’s have a look at you.’ She put her hands on Chaya’s shoulders and scrutinised her. ‘You’ve lost weight again, no?’ she said, as though she was disappointed. She glanced at Chaya’s legs and frowned at the trousers, but refrained from comment. ‘How are you, darling?’

  ‘I’m fine, Aunty.’

  ‘How long are you back for this time?’ The aunty pulled up a chair and sat down.

  Chaya sank back into her chair. ‘Only a few weeks.’

  The aunty clicked her tongue. ‘Is that all? You’ve been over there a long time now, no? When are you moving back for good?’

  Smile, be gracious. ‘I don’t know, really. There aren’t many jobs in my field over here.’

  ‘You could always teach,’ said the lady. She gave a little laugh. ‘Unless there’s another reason that’s keeping you in London.’ She winked. ‘I can’t believe you have been single all this time.’

  Chaya forced her smile to keep steady. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I am.’

  The lady laughed. Malini, who had been listening, came over. ‘Hi Aunty, I haven’t seen you in ages,’ she said.

  ‘Malini, how lovely to see you.’ The lady leaned in and looked past Chaya. ‘And these must be your children.’ She wiggled her fingers in a wave. ‘Hello darlings.’

  The kids stared at her, both slurping their drinks. Malini gave them a frown and a nod. Obediently, they took the straws out of their mouths and chorused, ‘Hello Aunty,’ and went back to their drinks.

  The lady gave a little laugh and turned back to Malini. Chaya took the opportunity to slip out of her seat. She gestured to Malini over the lady’s head that she wouldn’t be long and made a dash for it.

  The soft drinks were at one end of the room, some way away from the bar. Chaya didn’t often drink in front of her parents, but she suddenly wished she could have something stronger than fruit juice. She hesitated, weighing up the need for Dutch courage against the disapproval she’d face if she were seen drinking alcohol. While she stood vacillating, she caught sight of Suri Nanda approaching the table where the rest of the family were sitting, a determined look on her face. It could only mean that the man she had been intending to introduce to Chaya had arrived.

  Chaya grabbed a fruit juice from the table and looked around for a place to hide. The hall was lacking in obvious hiding places, but dotted here and there were pillars festooned in balloons and ribbons. Chaya dived behind one of them. She leaned back against it, feeling a little silly. She was wondering what to do next when a man backed round the pillar and bumped into her. He jumped and swung round. Seeing her, he took a small step back.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise this pillar was taken,’ he said. He was slim, tall and very good-looking. He leaned backward and peered round the pillar into the hall. Chaya took the opportunity to look him and up and down. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit. Everything about him seemed impossibly well groomed. Even the fingers that were wrapped around the whiskey tumbler looked manicured.

  She moved up. ‘There’s probably enough room for both of us.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, smiling at her. He had a nice smile, but it didn’t sit well with the worry in his eyes. Chaya wondered whether it was just her own insincerity she was projecting, or whether he genuinely had something he was hiding. He took a sip from his drink. ‘So,’ he said, waving the tumbler, making the ice clink against the glass. ‘Who are you hiding from?’

  ‘My aunt,’ said Chaya. ‘She’s got some man she wants to introduce me to.’

  He grinned. ‘What a coincidence. I’m hiding from my mother, who has some woman she wants me to meet.’

  They stared at each other for a moment. ‘I’m Gimhana,’ he said, holding out his hand.

  ‘Chaya.’

  They shook hands.

  Gimhana looked thoughtful. ‘What’s your last name?’

  She told him.

  ‘Well, it’s not you I’m supposed to meet,’ he said.

  Chaya shrugged, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment. He seemed quite nice, if unsettlingly immaculate.

  They were silent for a minute. ‘What’s that you’re drinking?’ he said, looking at her glass.

  Chaya realised she had no idea. She tasted it. ‘Passion fruit,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t get to the bar.’

  He nodded. ‘You can have my whiskey, if you like. I can always get another one. You could add it to your glass and no one would know.’

  ‘Whiskey and passion fruit?’ said Chaya, pulling a face.

  ‘Fair point,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t normally drink,’ said Chaya, feeling the need to explain.

  He waved a hand. ‘Say no more,’ he said. ‘I’ve been subjected to intensive bride-hunting since I got into the country. It’s enough to drive anyone to drink.’ He offered his glass. ‘Go ahead. I haven’t touched it.’

  She shook her head. ‘Where do you normally live, then?’

  ‘London.’

  ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘Finchley.’

  ‘Really, I live in Camden,’ said Chaya.

  ‘Well we’re practically neighbours, give or take a tube journey.’

  Chaya wondered how one was supposed to progress with this sort of conversation. She wished she socialised more often.

  Gimhana was clearly more used to networking. He moved onto the next question, seemingly without the slightest bit of awkwardness. ‘What do you do?’ he said, his head to one side as though she had all his attention.

  ‘I’m a scientist. You?’

  ‘I work in M&A,’ he said. ‘Sorry, mergers…’

  ‘…and acquisitions, I know.’

  There was a brief silence. ‘I suppose I should check what the mater is up to.’ Gimhana looked round the pillar. ‘Damn,’ he said. ‘She’s seen me.’ He turned round to Chaya. ‘I’d better go before I get you into trouble too.’ He smiled. ‘It was nice to meet you, Chaya from Camden.’

  ‘You too, Gimhana from Finchley.’

  He gave her a quick grin and stepped out saying, ‘Ammi, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!’

  Chaya leaned back against the pillar and smiled at his audacity.

  * * *

  The party progressed slowly. Chaya’s aunt finally tracked her down and introduced her to a man who looked slightly embarrassed to be there. As soon as was reasonable, he and Chaya politely parted ways.

  Dinner was announced and Chaya joined Malini with the kids at the queue. The food was served on a long buffet table with the food in hot tureens, so the smell of spices rose into the air. There was chicken floating in a fiery red gravy, pumpkins, fried okra, lentils, devilled potatoes, jackfruit, two types of fish and a selection of salads.

  Two lines of people shuffled along on either side of the table, ladling out rice and various curries onto their plates. At one point Chaya looked up and saw that Gimhana was in the line opposite her. He raised his eyebrows in recognition. She gave him an answering nod and then looked away just in time to catch Malini staring. Chaya suppressed a smile.

  ‘Who was that guy?’ said Malini, as soon as they’d sat down to eat.

  ‘What guy?’ said Chaya, although she knew very well whom her sister meant.

  Malini made an exasperated noise. ‘The guy that smiled at you while you were getting dinner.’

  ‘Oh, that guy,’ said Chaya, not looking up from her plate.

  Malini gave her a gentle kick under the table. ‘Stop being annoying.’

  ‘Ow. Okay, okay. I don’t know him. I spoke to him for about two minutes earlier. His name is Gimhana. That’s all I know. Really.’

  Malini peered at Chaya to see if she was still teasing. Satisfied, she said, ‘Gimhana,’ in a thoughtful voice. ‘Hmm. Was he nice?’

  Chaya shrugged.

  ‘Do you want me to ask around…?’

  Chaya stopped eating and looked up. ‘Please don’t,’ she said, suddenly feeling incredibly weary.
‘Not now. I’d like to stop feeling like a window display, just this once.’

  Malini nodded. ‘Okay. Not right now.’ She smiled at her sister and turned around to check on the kids.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gimhana – Colombo, 2005

  Gimhana was drunk. He knew he was. Quite apart from the fact that his face had that weird numbness that came when he’d had too much to drink, he was watching people dancing badly. It was terrible and wonderful at the same time.

  He leaned back in an uncomfortable wooden dining chair. You had to love a Sri Lankan party. The DJ was old school. He’d started off with The Gypsies, then baila, and was now on to a selection of the cheesiest seventies and eighties pop. He’d be playing ‘Under The Boardwalk’ any minute now. They always played ‘Under the Boardwalk’.

  The dance floor was full of people dancing, regardless of age or ability. Tiny children jumped around, often holding hands with their adults. There were balloons underfoot. An intoxicated uncle with an exuberant dance style had cleared a sort of blast radius around him. There were a few married couples, laughing as they tried to hold onto each other. A group of teenaged boys were horsing around, arms around each other’s shoulders.

  He remembered those times. When life was simple. If something was unthinkable, you didn’t think about it. Until you realised it wasn’t unthinkable, really. A sudden memory flared. Of a hug that had morphed into something else. Of kisses stolen in hiding. The pain of being rejected and later, the very physical pain of being beaten up. He shook his head. No. Not thinking about that now. Not now, not ever.

  He looked away, scanning the people at the periphery of the dance floor. People like him, who were watching, but not taking part. That girl was there. What was her name? Chaya from Camden. She was staring idly at some people dancing. A balloon escaped towards her. She batted it back to a little boy. She smiled. She had a small, tight smile, like she’d forgotten how to do it properly. Her mouth remembered, but the rest of her face wasn’t really into it. Gimhana frowned. She was interesting, that girl. There was something about her that intrigued him. A sort of familiarity. He was used to the way women looked at him. But this girl had looked at him like she was assessing him. Weighing him up for something. There had been no interest in him… more in what he represented. Which was interesting. It occurred to him that it was how he sometimes looked at people while he figured out how best to get on their good side. Did she have a use for him? In which case, could she be the amenable lesbian he was looking for?

  She must have sensed him looking at her, because she turned and caught his eye. She gave him a friendly nod and looked away again. See. Familiar, but distant. Interesting. Gimhana swirled the whiskey in his glass. The ice had all but disappeared.

  Looking around again, he spotted his mother sitting at a table a short distance away, watching him with her lips pursed. Poor Ammi and her doomed quest to make her son get married like a ‘normal’ man. Perhaps he should go talk to that Chaya woman, just to see what happened. Ammi would have him married off to her before he got past the first sentence. But if his suspicion was right, that could work out perfectly.

  He got up and ambled over. ‘Not dancing, Chaya from Camden?’

  She glanced at him and turned her attention back to the dance floor. ‘Er, no. I can’t dance,’ she said. ‘Besides, I’m watching my niece and nephew.’

  Prickly. Gimhana swayed a little, and grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself. ‘Cute kids,’ he said.

  Chaya nodded, but didn’t bother turning to look at him. They watched the dancers for a while.

  ‘So, Chaya from Camden,’ said Gimhana. ‘How was the man you had to meet?’

  She shrugged. ‘Nice enough.’

  ‘But not your type?’

  ‘Not really, no. How about the woman you had to meet?’

  Gimhana waved a careless arm. ‘Far too glamorous for little old me.’

  She looked sideways at him, but didn’t comment. Man, she was hard work. But there was something behind that cold façade. Something he recognised. He tried a different topic. ‘Nice suit, by the way. I meant to mention it earlier, but you know, it wasn’t appropriate.’

  She looked surprised and then, miraculously, she smiled. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘That’s the first positive comment I’ve heard about it all evening.’

  ‘Really? What’s wrong with it?’ He scrutinised her, leaning to look at the back too. ‘It’s very flattering.’

  The corners of her mouth twitched. This time the smile was in her eyes, but not her mouth. ‘Not respectable, apparently.’

  This made him laugh. ‘Ah, I see. Women wearing trousers. Yes. What will people say!’ he leaned forward and added in a falsetto: ‘You’ll never find a husband dressed like that, young lady.’ He winked.

  Her gaze flicked up and down the length of him. Assessing, but not judging. She turned back to watch her niece and nephew again, but her shoulders were slightly less stiff. ‘Exactly.’

  He stopped laughing and looked down at himself to see what she had noticed. Without thinking he had put his hand on his hip. Camp. That’s what she’d noted. He quickly dropped his hand and slowly lowered himself down in the chair he was using for support. She’d spotted that and not judged.

  He studied her. She was pretty in a prim sort of a way and not objectionable. Okay, she was a little stiff, but he could tell that was just because she was uncomfortable. ‘So, how come you’re on the market? Divorced?’

  That was the wrong question. Her shoulders tensed up again. ‘Oh you know…’ she said guardedly. ‘Getting old and all that.’

  He nodded. ‘Parents leaning on you, huh?’

  ‘A bit.’ A balloon drifted towards her. She leaned forward to bat it away. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’ve been concentrating on work and kinda let that side of things slip.’ He sighed. ‘My ammi’s been on at me for years now. Finally she just told me she was going to start looking whether I like it or not.’

  ‘I see. Is that okay with you?’

  He gave the tiniest of shrugs. He took another swig of his drink. ‘I’m not likely to find a woman on my own.’ Had he just put a slight emphasis on the word woman? He had, hadn’t he? Crap. Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed. He looked at his glass. He should probably stop drinking now.

  One of the children ran over and whispered something in Chaya’s ear. ‘Let’s go,’ she said. She stood up, holding the child’s hand. ‘Excuse us,’ she said to Gimhana. ‘You should probably get yourself a soft drink and sober up a bit,’ she said, in an undertone as she passed him. ‘Before you say something you regret.’

  Bossy. Gimahana stared after her. She didn’t turn round or check he’d heard. There was definitely something there. Gimhana looked down at his drink. She might be bossy, but she was also right. He should stop drinking. Before he let something slip.

  He sighed and drained his glass.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chaya – Colombo, 2005

  The morning after the party, Chaya was late getting up, so she was still having breakfast when Malini showed up. Malini looked fresh and awake as though the late night had made no impression on her whatsoever. Chaya, on the other hand, had sore eyes and felt terrible.

  ‘Morning!’ Malini chirped, slipping into a chair.

  ‘Is that Malini?’ said Amma, emerging from the kitchen. ‘Morning Duwa, have you eaten?’

  Malini eyed Chaya’s plate of mung beans, coconut and onion sambol. ‘Yes, but I wouldn’t mind a top-up if it’s mung eta. I’ve only had one slice of bread that I ate whilst getting the kids ready.’

  ‘Leela,’ Amma called over her shoulder, ‘bring a plate for Malini Baby.’

  Amma turned back to her daughters. ‘Where are the kids today?’

  ‘Swimming lessons,’ said Malini. ‘Ajith is with them, so I can spend some time with Chaya.’

  Chaya yawned and nodded. ‘I’m grateful.’

  Leela appeared with a plate and had a quest
ion for Amma, who sighed and followed her back into the kitchen.

  ‘So,’ said Malini, leaning over and washing her fingers in the bowl of water next to Chaya. ‘What happened with that guy at the party? Gimhana. You were talking to him for ages.’

  ‘Nothing happened. We talked a bit and then he went away.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Malini, heaping some food onto her plate. ‘So, what did he say?’

  Chaya finished eating and washed her hand in the bowl, making the water smeary with oil and bits of coconut. She dried her hands on the napkin next to it. ‘He thought your kids were cute.’

  ‘Chaya!’ Malini glared at her.

  ‘Seriously, nothing interesting happened. He told me he works in London. We talked about how I would never find a man if I insisted on wearing trousers to parties and then he lurched off to get a drink. That was all. Really.’ She reached for a mangosteen from the fruit bowl and squeezed it between her palms. She watched with satisfaction as the maroon skin split under the pressure of her hands, gaping to reveal the soft white flesh underneath.

  Malini tilted her head and looked at her sister. ‘What are you not telling me?’

  Chaya scooped out a white segment of fruit and popped it in her mouth. She had liked him. Not sexually, just as a person. Something about him felt familiar. It was almost as though he was as lonely as she was. But her sister wouldn’t understand that. She would get excited and think that Chaya fancied him. So she said nothing and merely looked blank.

  Malini watched her a bit longer and finally said, ‘I asked around about him.’

  ‘Uhuh.’ Chaya removed the seed and carefully deposited it on the edge of her plate.

  ‘He’s thirty-three.’ Malini frowned as she tried to remember the information she’d gathered. ‘He lives in London, works in banking or law or something like that. He’s single. And apparently, he’s very shy and he’s been working too hard to have time to find a girlfriend – but that’s according to his mother, so it doesn’t mean it’s true.’

  ‘You talked to his mother?’