A Convenient Marriage

by A Convenient Marriage (retail) (epub)

  Amma let out a long breath. ‘You look so beautiful.’ She reached inside her blouse and fished out a handkerchief. ‘I can’t believe my baby is getting married,’ she said, dabbing her eyes.

  ‘Oh Amma,’ said Chaya, rolling her eyes. ‘You promised, no crying.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chaya – Colombo, 2005

  Chaya woke up in the night with a tightness in her throat. She lay in the darkness, staring up at the mosquito net. What was she doing? She was getting married in the morning. What if she was about to make a colossal mistake? Her heart raced and anxiety burned in her chest. It took her several minutes to force her breathing back into a regular rhythm. Around her, the house slept. It wasn’t silent. It wasn’t even fully dark. The standing fan whirred. Crickets chirped.

  Quietly, Chaya slipped out from under the mosquito net that hung over the bed. She couldn’t sleep, so she may as well do something useful. In the living room, she found the router, which had been turned off for the night, and turned it back on. The sound of the computer starting up sounded deafening in the night time quiet. While the machine booted up, she padded into the kitchen and made herself a Horlicks.

  Eventually, when the computer had come to life, she logged into her university email account, feeling a little guilty. She and Gimhana had promised each other that they wouldn’t check work emails until after their ‘honeymoon’. The holiday was meant to be a proper break. What with the wedding preparations and the rush to get the paperwork set up for her new team to start work, she needed a holiday.

  She skimmed through her inbox for anything important. An awful lot of emails had come in during the day or two since she’d last checked. There was nothing marked urgent. She resisted the urge to open one of them. She would be here all night. These emails never ended. As she logged off, the email count in her inbox went up. She shut it down before she was tempted to look.

  She should go back to bed. She was getting married tomorrow.

  Oh god. She was getting married tomorrow. Marrying Gimhana was either a brilliant idea or a terrible one and at this moment, she wasn’t sure which it was. He needed this marriage. He was a good man and a good friend. Was she doing this just for him? She thought about how happy Amma and Thatha were. No, she was doing this for them too. And, if she was being brutally honest, for herself as well. She was choosing an easy option. She had no desire to fall in love with anyone. She’d done that once and had been forced to choose between him and her family. Given that situation, she would always choose her family. Wouldn’t she?

  She was about to turn the computer off, but she hesitated. One last time. After this, she would never look for Noah again. She put in, not his name, but the name of his wife. Noah didn’t have a Facebook profile, but his wife Katherine did. An open one too. It contained endless pictures of her, Noah and their son. So many happy family pictures.

  She found the profile and clicked on it, heading straight for the photos so that she could find a good one of Noah. Her favourite pictures were the ones where he wasn’t posing, but looking more like himself – in the corner of a shot, smiling, or holding his son and laughing. She knew which ones because she’d found them before.

  Looking at the photos made her feel faintly guilty. It was all very well justifying it to herself by saying that if Katherine wanted the pictures to be private, she should have locked her profile down, but from what she had heard, Facebook’s privacy settings were prone to resetting themselves. Besides, who would want random strangers looking at pictures of them? Let alone random strangers who used to go out with their husband?

  She kept being drawn to one photo in particular. It was Noah, slightly out of focus, laughing. There was something about the angle of his head, the way the light fell on his features, that punched straight into her every time. The sense of loss was palpable. She shouldn’t do this. It wasn’t fair on anyone, least of all her.

  Slowly, she looked up and her gaze rested on the wedding flowers on the dining table. They had been lovingly set up resting in bowls of water, so that they would be perfect for her big day. It was just one of the many hundreds of little things her family had done. They were all so happy for her. This wedding was the right thing to do.

  Gimhana had been at the house earlier that evening, laughing and joking with her cousins as they helped pack the favours. He fitted into her family like he was always meant to be there. Noah could never have done that. Even if her parents had accepted him, even if he had learned Singhalese, he would never fit in. He would always be obviously foreign to them.

  Chaya sighed. She touched the screen and said a silent goodbye to Noah. He would always be the one that got away, but she need not dwell on it any more. She would get on.

  She closed Facebook down and turned the computer off. Then the router. In the dark, she made her way back to her bed, crawled in and tucked the mosquito net in behind her. Whenever it came to a choice between her family and Noah, she would always choose her family. And by default, she also chose Gimhana.

  Chapter Forty

  Gimhana – Colombo, 2005

  Gimhana’s father was looking at his watch, counting down to the auspicious moment. At his signal, Gimhana stepped out of the house he’d grown up in and took the glass of water his mother offered him. He took a sip and passed it back to her, then genuflected, palms together, bending at the knees. His mother placed her hand on his head and blessed him.

  He straightened up and then did the same at his father’s feet. When he looked up, his mother was wiping her eyes.

  On an impulse, he kissed her cheek. ‘This is supposed to be a happy day, Ammi. No tears.’

  She put her hand on his own cheek. ‘My darling son,’ she said. ‘I’m so happy. I was starting to worry that this day wouldn’t come. I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘We both are,’ said his father. ‘Come now. It’s time.’ He put his arm out and patted Gimhana on his back, with pride in his expression. Suddenly, it was Gimhana’s turn to blink back tears. This was all a lie. But it made his parents so happy, how could it be a bad thing?

  He sat in the back of the car, just like he had done when he was a child. His parents chatted about the plans. Ammi occasionally fielded calls. ‘I don’t have much to worry about,’ she said. ‘It’s Chaya’s mother that has all the work. A son getting married is not like a daughter getting married, is it?’

  ‘It’s still a big deal,’ said his father.

  Gimhana wondered how Chaya was coping. Was she having second thoughts? He knew he wanted this marriage more than she did. It would give him a huge amount of freedom. He couldn’t be who he really was, but this would give him the next best thing. At least Chaya knew. He had met gay men whose wives didn’t know. Who had tried to fight who they were so hard that they’d got married and had children and lived under the pressure until one day they couldn’t bear it. But equally, they couldn’t bear being parted from their children. So they remained trapped with no escape from their lie. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. This way, he got to keep everyone happy. Including himself.

  For him to be who he really was would be a risk. But for Chaya… there wasn’t the same sort of pressure. Of course, she was expected to get married and all that, but she might have found someone she liked enough to have a conventional marriage with. What if she tired of the pretence?

  But it wasn’t just about that, was it? He knew Chaya well. Prickly, closed off, struggling to keep up with normal life, Chaya fought a battle against herself each day. He didn’t know much about mental illness, but he knew distress when he saw it. That first night, when he’d sat on her floor, eating food and watching her carefully, he’d seen the raw pain and fear that she kept just underneath her skin. He had helped her, even though he wasn’t sure how. He knew, because the woman who had let him in had been wild-eyed and skittish. The one he left behind had been calmer. Over the months of their friendship, she had changed. Not much, but enough. Perhaps that was what she would get fro
m this arrangement. She found some comfort in his friendship.

  He didn’t have many friends left now. The ones in Sri Lanka had scattered around the world and they had grown apart. The ones in England… well there weren’t any. He had colleagues from work, but no real friends. The only friend he had, the person he spent any amount of time with outside of work, was Chaya. He might not be marrying a girlfriend, but he was marrying a friend. Which had to be the next best thing.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chaya – Oxford, 1995

  Chaya sat on her bed and stared at the carrier bag on her desk. Outside, a bird was singing. It was a beautiful day. But inside, her room was small and it was closing in. She was going to break up with Noah and the pressure of it was crushing.

  The bag was full of his things. Nothing big, but all significant: his P.G. Wodehouse books which she had meant to read over the summer; his spare hay fever pills; the custard creams that she bought only because he liked them; a photo Sara had taken of them after one formal hall dinner.

  The photo was the hardest to part from. It was the only one of the two of them together. She could see it pressing against the side of the bag. She could make out Noah’s hand, holding a wine glass and from there her mind recreated the whole of it – her wearing a long skirt she’d borrowed from Sara and her favourite top, him handsome in his suit, the way he was leaning towards her conspiratorially, her own bashful smile. She got off the bed, found another bag and double-bagged the stuff, like it was biohazard waste. Then she returned to sitting on the bed and waiting.

  She jumped when Noah knocked on the door downstairs. She heard Jay let him in. There were a few seconds’ chat and then he came up the steep stairs. After months of being together, his tread was as familiar to her as his voice. She was going to miss that. She drew a deep breath, gathered her strength for what she had to do, and opened the door.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, smiling cautiously. When he saw her face, the smile vanished.

  ‘Are you okay? Jay told me about your dad.’

  She let him in without saying anything and retreated to the other end of the room, which, given the size of it, wasn’t that far away. He dropped his backpack and held out his arms. ‘What’s wrong Chaya? Is it delayed shock?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’ When she looked at him, she tried not to love him. It was impossible. But that was what she had to do. If she couldn't manage that, she would have to just love him and let him go anyway.

  He took a step towards her. She took a step back, so her legs pressed against the bed.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ His eyes searched her face, as though trying to work out how best to comfort her. He hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt wrong to hurt him like this. But she had to.

  She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry Noah, this has to end. We can’t go on seeing each other.’

  His eyes widened. ‘But why…? I don’t understand.’

  ‘We always knew this would have to come to an end at some point. I think that point is now. You can take your PhD offer in Canada. I can focus on getting through my exams next year. It’s a natural place to end.’

  He stared at her. ‘I don’t want to go to Canada. I want you.’

  ‘This isn’t about Canada,’ she said. This had been so much easier when she was going over it in her head. More convincing. ‘It’s about this whole charade. We have no future together. We can’t ever get married. We need to get on with things. Do things for ourselves. We’ve had some great times and now it’s time to move on.’

  ‘Charade?’ he said. He looked hurt and bewildered as he stood there, looking at her through his adorable floppy hair.

  ‘Not charade… You know what I mean.’

  ‘But why? Why now? Why like this?’

  Be strong, Chaya. Be strong. She had got further this time than the last time she’d tried to break up with him. That time she hadn’t even made it as far as talking to him about it. But she’d always known that they didn’t fit together, however much she wanted them to, and now her grades were slipping and her father had almost died… how many more clues did she need? ‘Because… because I’m failing at my degree. And last night I thought I’d lost my dad. This… us… it was only meant to be a short term thing and it’s time for it to end now. I can’t afford to keep going like this. I can’t hurt my family.’ She shook her head. ‘I just can’t.’

  Hope dawned on his face. ‘You’re in shock after all the drama last night,’ he said, stepping towards her again. ‘A lot happened in twenty-four hours. You need time to process it. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’

  She shook her head and backed away.

  ‘Chaya, please. This is ridiculous … it’s wrong. I love you.’

  He told her that all the time. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he meant it. She loved him too. But love wasn’t everything. This kind of love, this heady, youthful abandon, it wouldn’t stand up against the real world.

  ‘No, it’s not. I’m serious. I shouldn’t have allowed us to start going out in the first place. I… It’s been wonderful Noah, it really has, but it has to end now. Please don’t make this any harder than it is.’ She picked up the bag on the desk and held it out to him. ‘I’ve packed up all your stuff. Here.’

  Noah looked at the bag as though it had stung him.

  ‘You mean it?’ he said, not taking it.

  She nodded. Tears welled up and spilled over onto her cheeks. When she looked back on it, she would think it was the tears that persuaded him.

  His chin trembled. ‘You were crying when I met you,’ he said, softly.

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, and focused instead on her feet. Hesitantly, he put a warm hand against her cheek. She couldn't bear to pull away. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’ he said. ‘If I leave now, I won’t ever…’ His voice disappeared.

  Miserably, she nodded into his palm. This was what she had to do. She should have done it months ago.

  She looked up and finally met his eyes. Her own pain was reflected in his. How could doing the right thing feel so terrible?

  He took the bag from her and backed away. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to fight this. Because it’s important to you. And because I love you.’

  At the door he paused and looked at her one last time, giving her a chance to change her mind. It wasn’t too late. Balanced on the razor edge of her decision, her resolve wavered. It would be so easy to give in, like she had done every single time she’d tried to do this in the past. To throw her arms around him and say she was wrong. But if she did that now, she would end up back here in a few months’ time and it would hurt even more. This was her last chance to make things right.

  So she said nothing.

  He nodded. ‘Okay. You know where to find me.’ And left.

  Her world narrowed and darkened at the edges. She listened to his footsteps going down the stairs. Each one taking him further away. With each step, the ties that bound her heart to his stretched thinner and thinner and thinner. His footsteps reached the bottom. There was a pause, a short conversation with Jay. Then, with terrible finality, the front door creaked shut.

  There was a moment of numbness. She forgot how to breathe, how to think. The world took on an unreal aura. The roaring in her ears deafened her.

  Jay thumped up the stairs. He pushed open the door. ‘Chaya, what the hell—’ He saw her face and stopped. His expression softened.

  ‘Oh, mate,’ he said, his voice full of sadness.

  Everything holding her together gave way all at once. She collapsed just as Jay got to her.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chaya – Colombo, 2005

  Walking into the hall felt like a dream. Chaya fought hard to focus. Maybe all brides felt like this on that surreal journey down the aisle, because when they walked back again, they would be subtly changed.

  Traditional drummers and dancers preceded her. She barely registered the brown bodies dressed in red and white as she passed t
hem. The drums were loud enough for her to feel them in her torso, mixing with her pulse.

  People lined the path she was walking down, everyone craning their necks to catch the first glimpse of the bride. She stared blankly at the faces, barely recognising them. Her pulse quickened. The traditional seven necklaces sat on her chest; the fat clasp that held them all felt heavy on the back of her neck. She wondered briefly whether it was the drums or her heart that was speeding up. The space between her breasts prickled as cold sweat fought to break out from under the dusting of make-up. The world seemed to thin out and lose its colour. Her throat constricted. No, not now. She couldn’t have a panic attack now. She tightened her grip on Thatha’s arm. He placed a warm hand over hers and looked at her. She felt his stride falter, very slightly.

  She continued walking, even though her legs felt like they didn’t belong to her. Calm. Breathe, breathe, breathe. She didn’t waste energy trying to smile. It was all she could do to keep looking ahead and walk.

  Gimhana was standing by the poruwa, flanked by his parents. He was looking over his shoulder to say something to the best man, a cousin of his. As Chaya and her procession neared, he turned. His eyes met hers and Chaya glimpsed the same fear and loss reflecting back at her. She suddenly realised he was going through the same thought process she was. He was just better at hiding it. He understood. The thought itself calmed her. She had a sudden urge to go to him; he could comfort her and protect her. It was a good job they were getting married, really.