A Convenient Marriage
Page 17
He winced. He was genuinely torn whether to say anything about Chaya not wanting children. On balance, it was probably best not to mention it until after the wedding, when they could present it as a fait accompli. Neither of the mums would be happy, exactly, but they might be stoic about it. Maybe.
They chatted a bit more, Ammi talking, him agreeing or making non-committal noises as appropriate. It had been a long time since he’d heard his mother so happy. He hadn’t fully appreciated how much his being single was grinding her down. He wondered if she might suspect the true reason for his resolute independence. If his getting married removed that lingering doubt, it wasn’t surprising that she was so relieved.
‘Oh, I’m so happy darling,’ she said, when it was time to hang up. ‘She’s not the prettiest girl in the world, but she’s very nice and I think you two make a good couple.’ She sighed, a happy little ‘aah’. ‘You have made me so happy today.’
Gimhana hung up. He went into his kitchen and started cooking dinner for himself and realised that he was still smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chaya – London, 2005
On the day they were to go to Sara’s, Gimhana turned up at Chaya’s work still in his suit. ‘Should I have changed, do you think?’ he said as they walked from the underground station to Sara’s house. ‘I should have brought some jeans to work and got changed before I came out.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Chaya. ‘Really, they won’t mind.’ She was dressed casually, but then again, she always was. Gimhana was the sort of guy who had to have the right clothes for each occasion. The idea of just showing up wearing whatever you had on was alien to him.
‘Here, hold this a second.’ He thrust a bottle of wine into her hands and undid his tie. He stuffed it into his coat pocket. ‘There,’ he said, taking the bottle back from her. ‘That’s better.’
‘I don’t understand why you’re nervous,’ said Chaya. ‘It’s not like you’re meeting my parents.’
‘I’ve already met your parents. That was different.’ He ran a hand over his hair. ‘These people… they know you on a different level. I’m worried they might see through us.’
‘Gim, you’ve managed to convince everyone you’ve worked with that you’re straight. You even convinced your boss that we were a couple at that party. You’ll be fine.’ She patted his arm and smiled at him, she hoped reassuringly.
She had had similar thoughts. Sara and Jay knew her – the anxiety-ridden, stress-driven her. Unlike her parents, who only saw what she wanted them to see, her friends saw all of it. They might see through the marriage. On the other hand, they wanted to believe she’d moved on. Gimhana had told her that if people wanted to believe something was true, then persuading them that it was so, wasn’t hard. She hoped he was right.
The fact that he was nervous worried her.
Sara let them in. ‘Hi,’ she said, brightly. Chaya could tell that she wanted to like him. That was good. That made it easier.
Chaya introduced him.
‘Sara, I’ve heard a lot about you,’ he said.
Sara gave Chaya a meaningful look. ‘I wish I could say the same.’
Oh dear.
Sara ushered them into the living room where Jay was sliding the toy baskets into a line.
‘Hello, trouble,’ Jay said, grinning at Chaya as she came in. His attention moved to Gimhana. There was curiosity in his gaze, but not animosity. He gave her a quick hug.
‘Er… Jay. This is Gimhana,’ she said. ‘My… fiancé.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Jay, extending a hand.
‘Hi.’ Gimhana shook Jay’s hand and looked him in the eye. Jay smiled. Gimhana’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.
‘Please Gimhana, take a seat.’ Sara bustled. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea? Beer?’
‘Please, call me Gim,’ said Gimhana, sitting down. ‘And tea would be great.’ He caught Chaya’s eye, as though to convey to her that he was keeping his promise about cutting down on the booze.
Chaya nodded.
‘Right, tea,’ said Sara. ‘Same for you, Jay? Chaya, come help me a moment, will you?’
Sara had put the kettle on by the time Chaya joined her in the kitchen.
‘I can’t believe you haven’t introduced him to us until now,’ said Sara. ‘You go on and on about him being just a friend and then suddenly you’re engaged? What’s all that about?’
‘It just… sort of happened,’ said Chaya. ‘We really were just friends until a few weeks ago.’
‘Hmmm,’ Sara studied her face. ‘Are you sure this is what you want? You’re not just giving in to pressure from your family?’
‘I’m sure,’ said Chaya. ‘I really like him. It took me a little while to realise how much. Luckily, he feels the same way.’ She couldn’t believe she was saying this stuff to Sara. Of all the people in her life, Sara was the one who had known the most about her, until now. Lying to Sara was harder than lying to her mother. But she had to do it. If this was going to work, nobody could know.
Sara said nothing. Her eyes searched Chaya’s for a moment before she returned to her task.
‘So,’ said Chaya. ‘What do you think?’
‘He’s perfect. What’s the deal?’ said Sara, rummaging in the cupboard for tea.
Fear struck Chaya in the chest. If Sara could see through them just like that, what hope did they have of this working? ‘What?’ she said. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ said Sara, getting down some mugs. ‘He’s gorgeous, he’s successful, he’s charming. How did he manage to get this far without being snapped up? It’s too convenient. There has to be a catch.’
Chaya felt her legs go wobbly with relief. She was glad Sara was too busy with the tea to see her face. She gave a little laugh. ‘He’s a workaholic, that’s all,’ she said. ‘He wants to become a partner before he turns thirty-five so he works until all hours of the night. I’ve called him at one a.m. and he’s still been at work.’
Sara leaned against the work surface and looked at Chaya. ‘Sounds a bit like someone else I know,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you’ll be able to leave your careers aside long enough to have a relationship?’ She tilted her head.
‘We’ve managed so far,’ said Chaya. A friendship was still a relationship.
Sara smiled. ‘I suppose you have.’ She held out her arms. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be snappy. I worry about you, that’s all.’
‘I know,’ said Chaya, wrapping her arms round her friend and giving her a hug. ‘I appreciate that.’
In the living room, she heard Jay laugh. He and Gimhana were clearly getting on okay. Chaya felt another wash of relief. She hadn’t realised how important that would be to her.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chaya – Oxford, 1995
In the middle of the night, the phone rang. Chaya was out of bed almost before she was awake. She stumbled down the stairs, turning lights on as she went. Any phone call at this ungodly hour was likely to be for her. It was also bound to be bad news.
Her first thought was that something had happened to Malini’s baby. When she picked up the phone and heard Malini’s voice, for a split second, she was relieved.
‘Chaya,’ said Malini. ‘It’s Thatha.’
Her stomach dropped. ‘What’s happened?’
There was a small sob. ‘He’s had a heart attack. He’s in hospital now.’
Slowly, Chaya lowered herself onto the sofa. ‘Oh. How… how is he? Is he…?’
Malini sniffed. ‘He’s alive. Amma got him to hospital quite quickly. The doctor thinks he’s been having small heart attacks for a few weeks now and he thought it was heartburn. Then he had a big one. They’re keeping him in. He’s in and out of consciousness. They said that if he has another one like that...’
She couldn’t go on and stopped speaking. Chaya felt cold. Thatha could die.
She should be there with them. There was nothing she could do from over here. ‘Are you okay?’
she asked. With a small baby to look after, things couldn’t be easy for Malini. ‘You and the baby?’
‘We’re fine. Ajith brought us home and he’s gone back to the hospital. He’s going to come and get me again at visiting time.’
‘I wish I was there.’ Her weary brain clicked into action. Again, there was the feeling of the world conspiring against her. In the space of two weeks, her tutor had told her she needed to buck up, Noah had been offered his dream job in Canada and Thatha had guessed that she was seeing someone. She’d had three clear signals that she should give Noah up and she had ignored them. Was this how karma worked? Was it her fault? ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
In the background, the baby cried. ‘I’d better go,’ said Malini. ‘I just thought I should tell you, just… in case.’ She didn’t have to say in case of what.
‘Call me if—’
‘I will. I promise.’
After Malini hung up, Chaya slowly lowered the phone. Sara and Jay had come downstairs and were watching her. Noah wasn’t staying over that night.
‘Are you okay?’ said Sara.
‘My dad’s in hospital,’ said Chaya. ‘He’s had a heart attack.’
‘Oh, Chaya.’ Sara wrapped her arms around her. ‘Is he okay?’
She shook her head.
‘Oh, mate,’ said Jay.
Chaya buried her face in Sara’s shoulder. ‘I think it’s my fault,’ she whispered.
‘How can it possibly be your fault, you loony?’ Sara rubbed her back.
She tried to explain, about how he’d found out she was seeing someone, how it must have been a shock ... but what came out made no sense. Sara held her close and said, ‘It’s natural, at times like this, to blame yourself. It’s not your fault though, honey. It sounds like your dad’s had a weak heart for a while. There’s no way it’s your fault.’
‘But if he was already fragile, what if I pushed him over the edge? I made him worried and angry and the stress…’ Her eyes filled with tears. And if she failed to get the degree she needed… all this would have been in vain. She hugged her knees. Tears escaped down her face.
Jay brought them tea and buttered toast.
‘So what happens now?’ Sara asked. She was sitting on the floor, next to Chaya.
‘I guess I wait until my sister phones back.’ She looked up at the clock and noticed that it was four a.m. ‘You guys go back to bed. I’ll stay down here.’
Jay got to his feet. ‘I’ll go get your pillow and duvet. You may as well get comfortable.’
When he’d gone. Sara knelt up and said, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Fresh tears came. ‘Everything’s going so wrong,’ said Chaya. ‘If I’d listened to my head and never seen Noah, none of this would have happened.’
‘Hey now,’ said Sara gently. ‘You know that’s not true. You and Noah, you’re meant to be together. There’s no link between him and what happened to your dad.’
Chaya wasn’t so sure.
As though reading her thoughts, Sara said, ‘Karma doesn’t work like that. I’m sure it’s not immediate.’
There was a clear link between her spending time with Noah and her work slipping, though. She hadn’t been concentrating on the one thing she was meant to be doing. She had allowed herself to be distracted. Her family had put so much into helping her follow her dreams and all they’d asked of her was that she didn’t do anything stupid, like dating a white guy, and that she did her best with her studies. She had failed on both counts. She was letting everyone down. Sara would never understand that, so Chaya said nothing.
When the other two had gone she lay on the uncomfortable couch, wrapped up in her duvet, the telephone an arm’s length away. If Noah had been there, he would have put his arms around her and snuggled down, warm and solid against her. But Noah was out with his friends from college that night, so he hadn’t come over. Part of Chaya was glad of that. She struggled to hold thoughts of her parents and of Noah at the same time. The two worlds were too far apart.
The idea that she might have seen her father for the last time buffeted her every few minutes. Please let him be okay. He was resilient. He had to be. He was a constant presence in her life – firm, sometimes feared, much respected, always loved. She ran through all the gathas she knew. Please let him be okay. She would do anything to make sure of that.
If Thatha survived this, she would throw herself into her studies. She would split up with Noah. It was the only way to make this right. It would hurt … but she was hurting now. It couldn’t possibly hurt more than this.
The hours passed. Outside, the milk float whirred past. The birds sang. Life went on, while Chaya huddled on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring.
It wasn’t until seven in the morning that the phone rang again. Chaya snatched it up by the second ring.
‘Malini?’
‘It’s me.’ It was Ajith.
Chaya’s breath stopped. ‘No. Is he…?’
‘It’s good news,’ said Ajith quickly. ‘He’s awake. He’s weak, but he’s awake and he’s talking to people. They’re keeping him in to observe him, but the doctors seem pleased.’
Relief washed through her. ‘Oh, thank god.’
‘He’ll have to take medication and eat carefully for the rest of his life,’ Ajith said.
‘But at least he’ll have more life to be annoyed about that,’ said Chaya.
‘Exactly,’ said Ajith.
Chaya let out a long breath. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said.
‘We didn’t want you to worry.’
International calls were expensive, so she said goodbye and let him go. She put the phone back at arm’s length and flopped back against her pillow. Thank goodness. She closed her eyes. Now she had to make good on her promise.
Being with Noah had brought all this on. She had stayed with him because it felt so good, but no matter how much she wanted it to be the right thing to do, it wasn’t ever going to be. It was affecting her parents’ health and it was affecting her studies. How many more reasons did she need before she admitted that their relationship was doomed?
She sat up and rubbed her face. She hadn’t slept properly for days now and her eyes were raw from crying. In a few hours, she would have to go to her nine a.m. pharmacology lecture. Not going wasn’t an option; she hated missing lectures at the best of times, but now, after Dr Goldworthy’s warning, it was going to be impossible. She had to knuckle down and get back on track. It wasn’t going to be easy, but if there was one thing she knew about herself, it was that she would never shy away from something just because it was difficult.
After the lecture, she would break up with Noah.
She groaned and pushed the duvet off. Today was going to be a very bad day indeed.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chaya – Colombo, 2005
Chaya stood still, her arms held away from her sides as the dressmaker made changes to her wedding blouse. The final fitting was taking place in a back bedroom in the dressmaker’s house. Through the open window sunlight and the noise from the road filtered in. There was no fan and Chaya could feel the sweat starting to bead on her back. She hoped she would be allowed out of the sari blouse before it stained. Things had moved fast since she and Gimhana discussed their future in the pub.
In the months leading up to the wedding, Amma and Malini had been on the phone more and more often. Thatha, through his contacts in the hotel industry, had secured a venue at relatively short notice. Chaya had assumed that the hotels would offer a standard package, but it turned out that there were a hundred small decisions to be made – menus, decorations, invitations, flowers, corsages, wedding cakes. Mostly, she relied on Malini’s good taste.
In the meantime, the success of her grant application meant that work was going well, but she was even busier than before. She had returned to Sri Lanka at the start of November, leaving Trish and the PhD student with detailed instructions of what to do while she was away. She would be back we
ll before the new members of her expanding lab started work in January. Gimhana was flying in next week, in good time for the wedding the week after. ‘There,’ said the dressmaker, in Singhalese. ‘You can look in the mirror now, see if you like it.’
Chaya’s eyes flicked to Amma, whose expression said everything was satisfactory. Chaya nodded and made her way to the full-length mirror that was fixed to the side of a wardrobe.
‘Oh, wait a moment,’ said the dressmaker. ‘Shall we drape the sari on to see what it looks like?’
‘Yes,’ said Amma, fanning herself with a magazine. ‘That’s a good idea.’ The dressmaker picked up the silk sari and unfolded it as though she was afraid it would dissolve. She draped the fabric loosely round Chaya’s waist, setting the pleats deftly between her fingers. Chaya was suddenly reminded of Gimhana. What would Amma say if she knew? She turned her head away to hide her smile.
‘There,’ said the dressmaker, throwing the fabric over Chaya’s shoulder. She gently turned Chaya round to face the mirror.
The sari was mostly ivory, with a profusion of tiny gold flowers, each with a sequin in the centre, embroidered along the bottom. A scattering of sequins further up made Chaya sparkle when she moved. The blouse, made of the same material, came down as far as her lower rib, leaving a strip of brown midriff peeping out in the midst of the ivory.
‘Beautiful, no?’ said the dressmaker.
Amma came over and stood next to her. ‘My beautiful Duwa,’ she said. ‘Still so thin.’ She reached over and touched Chaya’s collarbone where it strained against her skin. ‘You never did recover from that bout of laryngitis,’ she said sadly.
For a moment, Chaya felt her heart sink. In the weeks after her split from Noah when Chaya couldn’t muster the strength to phone home, Sara had called Amma and told her that Chaya had laryngitis. Suddenly, she felt insubstantial, standing there in her wedding sari, a hollow bride.
She moved slightly, watching the woman in the mirror turn. She was still too thin, she had to admit, but some of the jaggedness of her bones had eased, giving her an air of better health. Amma had put this down to happiness, but Chaya knew it had more to do with the regular meals that Gimhana made her eat. She now realised how much she had neglected herself. Gimhana, luckily, had taken it upon himself to look after her. He was good for her. She smiled at the thought. The woman in the mirror smiled back, some of the sallowness lifting from her face.