The Girl from Lace Island

by Joanna Rees

  ‘It’s just a precaution the lawyer wants,’ Blaise had explained on the phone, when she’d called him, after trying to make sense of the email. ‘Nothing to worry about. It’s no biggie. Everyone has them these days.’

  But lying alone in bed, it had felt like a big deal. She didn’t even have an engagement ring and already he was thinking about what happened when their relationship ended. Like he just assumed it would.

  Or was she overreacting? Maybe he was right. Maybe this was just normal these days. Jess couldn’t fathom it out, but she couldn’t help feeling that Blaise’s email had somehow punctured the romance of their whirlwind engagement with a sharp dose of reality.

  As she came up to a standing position for a tree balance, Jess wished she had a girlfriend to talk it through with. She didn’t trust Tilly enough to call her with something so personal. And besides, Tilly would be very matter-of-fact about such things, having gone through two divorces herself.

  She longed to chat to Angel, to the Angel of old, before the drugs had taken her. But she knew it was a ridiculous thought. This life Jess was living would be unrecognizable to her old friend. Angel wouldn’t believe that Jess was here in this gorgeous spa in India, let alone that she was planning to marry a multimillionaire. It made Angel feel further away than she ever had. Like Jess had separated herself from her old life entirely.

  Everything would be OK, she told herself, staring out at the horizon. Blaise was just protecting his business interests. Who could blame his lawyer for making her sign a prenuptial agreement? After all, she was just an air hostess, with nothing to her name, while Blaise was worth a fortune. And according to Blaise, they were getting married in a month. No wonder he was getting all the legal paperwork in place already.

  And then there was the other thing. The thing Jess didn’t want to think about but couldn’t help it. That guy. The guy she’d seen in the dining room with the beautiful girl. And, more specifically, how she’d felt when she’d seen him. Because standing here, looking out at the sun coming up, feeling her balance, her arms above her head, one leg bent onto the other, once again she couldn’t get his eyes out of her head.

  And it was weird, because he so wasn’t her type. Not that she actually had a type. She never looked at men and fancied them, but there had been a very tangible rush of . . . well, of something. Was it desire? Surely not, she thought. Why would she be attracted to a complete stranger across a room?

  Perhaps it was just some weird psychological phenomenon, she told herself. A kickback reaction because she was getting married. Her subconscious trying to sabotage her relationship. Well, she wouldn’t let it. She loved Blaise and they were getting married. End of.

  The guy was probably awful, anyway.

  After the class, Jess was getting a drink of water from the copper jug in the foyer and planning the day ahead when she saw him. She busied herself with the water, accidentally spilling it as he walked towards her. He was wearing a light shirt and linen trousers, and his hair was slicked back. He looked thoroughly comfortable in his own skin.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, smiling. He had a soft, friendly voice. Slightly Indian-sounding.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, pushing her hair behind her ear. She was aware of how awful she looked. No make-up and her face flushed. There was a beat as they looked at each other.

  ‘I’m Suresh,’ he said, but he said it in a funny way, like she must have already known that and he was reminding her.

  Maybe it was the yoga, Jess thought, or the sun glinting on the lake, but she suddenly felt intensely present in this moment.

  ‘Have we met before?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said, wondering why her throat felt dry.

  ‘When I saw you yesterday, I thought . . .’ He fizzled out and Jess looked down at the cup in her hand, feeling her cheeks reddening.

  ‘Suresh, come on – I want to have a shower.’

  Jess looked up to see the woman Suresh had been with yesterday coming down the hall towards them. She was wearing a dazzling blue-and-gold embroidered salwar kameez, the beautifully tailored trousers and tunic top showing off her perfect figure, and her long black hair fell in glossy curls over her shoulders. She stopped, looking Jess up and down, and Jess breathed in the heavy, musky perfume she was wearing.

  ‘This is my fiancée, Kareena,’ Suresh said.

  So he was engaged, then, Jess thought, wondering why she felt such a stab of disappointment. The girl, Kareena, had the most beautiful skin, Jess noticed. She stepped forwards and shook Kareena’s hand, introducing herself, and there was an awkward moment, as if Kareena was expecting Jess to say something.

  ‘I don’t want breakfast, so I’ll see you back at the bungalow,’ Kareena said, throwing Jess a filthy look and sweeping away through the door onto the terrace, the peacock-blue silk of her scarf trailing behind her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Suresh said, stifling a smile. ‘She’s not usually that rude.’

  ‘Did I do something?’

  ‘She’s a news anchorwoman,’ Suresh explained. ‘People around here know her face. She expected you to recognize her, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry,’ Suresh assured her. ‘It does her good to realize that she is not the centre of everyone’s universe.’

  Jess smiled, astonished that he’d said something like that about her, even though he’d said it in a jokey kind of way. Perhaps realizing, he looked after Kareena. ‘I’m being mean. She’s just a little overwrought, shall we say. Wedding planning, you know. This place was supposed to relax her, but I think it’s having the opposite effect.’

  ‘Oh? How long have you been engaged?’

  ‘Two years.’ Suresh rolled his eyes. ‘It’s a long time, right? But there’s a lot of logistics involved. Family and more family. Oh, and let’s not forget the media, who want to photograph the whole thing, like we’re performing monkeys.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, hoping that she sounded sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s a mess of our own making. Anyway, I’m not even sure why I’m telling you any of this.’

  There was a long moment when Jess felt it was almost impossible to tear her eyes away from his.

  ‘Well, I should . . .’ he began, nodding in the direction of the dining room.

  ‘I’m going for breakfast too. Will you join me?’ she asked, suddenly desperate to fill the gaping silence.

  ‘Yes, I’d like that very much. I’m starving,’ he said, with a laugh.

  They walked together from the hallway to the open dining room, and Jess self-consciously tried to tidy her hair. If only she’d had a shower and looked a bit more presentable. But then, why did it matter? Why was she behaving like this? Suresh was engaged. She was engaged. So why had she just invited a stranger to join her for breakfast?

  ‘I love cooking,’ Suresh said, as they arrived at the buffet, ‘but I can never make dosas like this. They’re so difficult to get this thin and crispy.’

  ‘They’re delicious,’ Jess agreed, taking one of the large, folded white pancakes filled with potato curry from the buffet.

  ‘You must try this pickle with it,’ Suresh said, loading some coconut chutney and a chunky-looking pickle onto her metal plate. ‘It’s wonderful.’

  It was such an intimate gesture – something Jess would expect a lover or a friend to do, not a stranger – but she realized she didn’t mind. In fact, it felt fun to be with him, choosing food and enjoying it together. Suresh was clearly a man in touch with his senses. Blaise had never cooked anything for her, she realized. They’d only eaten out in restaurants. She wondered now if he even could cook.

  ‘Kareena won’t eat anything like this at all in the mornings,’ he said. ‘But breakfast is my favourite meal.’

  ‘Me too,’ Jess said, glad that she was sharing this small pleasure with him.

  They both took a bowl of vegetable curry, then carried their trays to a table and sat together, the
cheerful bustle of the morning diners around them, but Jess hardly noticed the other people. She couldn’t work out what it was about Suresh that made him so easy to be with.

  Soon, without even trying, the conversation flipped back and forth as if they’d known each other for years and were catching up. It was as if they just clicked, Jess thought.

  And he was funny, too. He told her about the law practice he worked for in Cochin, making her laugh about his senior partner. He told her too about his overbearing mother and sisters, doing funny impersonations of them.

  And in turn Jess found herself being effortlessly open and honest. She told him about growing up in care homes and trying to make something of herself by becoming cabin crew, feeling a flush of pride that he was so impressed she worked in first class. She explained how the rich and famous hardly fazed her anymore, but even so, when she mentioned some of the celebrities she’d served, Suresh hadn’t heard of any of them. In fact, the kind of things that would have impressed Ivana and her friends were completely lost on him.

  ‘So,’ she said, smiling shyly at him as they sipped the last of their tea. ‘You must be excited about getting married?’

  ‘Kareena hates me telling people this, but ours is an arranged marriage.’

  Jess was intrigued. ‘How does that work?’

  He sighed. ‘My family chose a shortlist of suitable candidates. To be honest, it was like choosing a bride from a magazine,’ he said. ‘I tried to object, saying I wanted to actually meet and get to know the person first, but it was a done deal from the start . . .’

  ‘Come on. You didn’t do so badly,’ Leila laughed.

  He smiled sadly. ‘But it’s strange for Kareena too. She was hoping for someone . . . I don’t know . . . different. Maybe a high-flyer at the TV station where she works. Not someone boring. Like me.’

  He wasn’t boring, Jess wanted to blurt, as his eyes met hers. She liked his kind smile. She wouldn’t mind betting that it was Suresh who supported Kareena in her career and kept her feet on the ground.

  ‘I don’t even know why I told you that,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. That was very indiscreet.’

  ‘It’s OK. I understand. I’m engaged too. Just,’ she confided. ‘Mine has been a lot quicker. Much more of a whirlwind romance you could say.’ She looked down at her empty ring finger, wondering what it would feel like to be wearing the ring Blaise had promised her on her return.

  ‘My fiancée watches lots of movies. I think she believes that love is better that way. And so . . . tell me, Jess, just for the record, is it?’

  Jess smiled, liking the self-deprecating way he had about him. ‘I’m not sure. I mean, sure, at first, I was dazzled.’

  A big ‘but now’ hung in the air between them, and she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything against Blaise, but this was the most honest emotional conversation she’d had in months, and now she realized that there was a ‘but’. The feeling made her scared.

  She thought about how often she’d gushed to the girls on her flights. How she’d bigged up Blaise, embellished him, bragged about him. And how each time she’d seen him, it had been as if she were ticking boxes against the claims she’d made, as he rose to each standard. Good-looking. Thoughtful. Caring. Generous. She couldn’t fault him, except right now, chatting with Suresh, she felt more herself than she ever had with Blaise. She felt rocked that she’d even started to voice her fears.

  ‘I think love grows over time,’ Suresh said, saving her. ‘Proper love, that is. And maybe love can grow from a friendship.’ He didn’t seem so convinced.

  ‘I think we’re in the same boat. Being engaged is stressful,’ Jess said. ‘I already know that my fiancé wants a very different wedding to the one I want. And he wants it to happen soon. And . . .’ she sighed heavily, ‘I can’t tell him, but it feels too rushed to me.’

  She almost started talking about the prenuptial agreement Blaise wanted, but she managed to stop herself in time. Why was she confiding all of this in a stranger?

  They smiled at each other, perhaps both acknowledging that neither of their situations was perfect.

  ‘I should get going back to my bungalow,’ Jess said. She felt embarrassed now that she’d shared so much, and her usual boastfulness about Blaise hadn’t tripped off her tongue. It felt disloyal.

  ‘Me too. I should go and check on Kareena. Let’s walk together,’ he suggested.

  They strolled down the tiled steps to the path between the grass lawns, and Jess was suddenly aware of all the colours around her and the hummingbird moths kissing the stamens of the orange lilies on either side of the path. Ahead, the sun stretched towards them over the rippling water, and a wooden boat glided gently between the lily pads. She wished she had a camera to capture the moment.

  ‘So, where are you getting married?’ Suresh asked, his slow step falling in with hers.

  ‘In a hotel in Miami, I think,’ she said. ‘We haven’t discussed it much, but I think that’s what he wants. I always wanted it to be simple. On a beach.’

  She smiled, thinking of the poster Angel had given her. How alive that image still was in her head.

  ‘Ah! Me too,’ Suresh said, with a chuckle. ‘However, mine is going to take place over three days. There’ll be dancing, elephants, feasts.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ Jess said.

  ‘Does it? Perhaps if you are a guest, maybe. Not if you’re in the centre of it on show. You might as well come,’ he added. ‘I already know you ten times better than I know most of the guests.’

  He stopped and stared into her eyes, and for a second she felt something connect with her deep down. As if he recognized her. As if he really did know her ten times better than anyone else did.

  ‘What are you doing now, for the rest of today?’ he asked suddenly, as if on a whim.

  ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t planned it.’

  ‘Kareena has a massage this afternoon.’ His voice was urgent. ‘I heard there was a temple, up on the hill behind here. They say the view is amazing. Would you like to come and find it with me?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jess said.

  ‘Good. I’d like that,’ he said.

  As they parted, he gave her a shy wave and she felt as if they’d made some sort of secret promise.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Lace Island, 1990

  The light had faded and all the villagers were out with oil lanterns, candles and torches in the grove, as Chan pushed through the crowd that had gathered, holding his torch, Leila and Bibi following closely behind. Bamu shouted to the villagers to let them pass. The rain had stopped, but the trees dripped, and the air was cool and damp.

  At the foot of the tree, not far from the lighthouse, Vijay lay slumped on the ground, his hands tied behind his back. Leila felt her heart pounding, her mouth filling with saliva as more people arrived and tried to see what had happened.

  She gasped, stepping back. She’d never seen a dead body before, let alone someone she’d known all her life. She felt as if she’d been punched very hard in the chest.

  But there he was. Vijay. Unbidden images of him flicked through her mind: Vijay swatting away flies, chewing betel nut, his smile, the pride on his face when he looked at Rasa. Vijay throwing a cricket ball to her when she’d been a tiny child, his laughing face in the firelight at Maliba’s party. And the look on his face when he’d tasted that white powder Leila had given him.

  Maliba was weeping loudly, cradling Vijay’s head on her lap, rocking back and forth, the congealed blood from the wound on his neck smearing over her tunic.

  Chan knelt by Vijay’s body, extending a comforting hand to Maliba. Parva pushed through past Leila, screaming suddenly at the sight of her dead brother, as if she hadn’t believed it until she’d seen it with her own eyes. Bibi’s arms went around Parva.

  Leila watched the crowd close in around her, but she couldn’t move, jostling backwards, numb with terror.

  Bibi cal
led for quiet and the crowd settled down, apart from the anguished sobs of Parva and Maliba. Even at a time like this, it amazed Leila that Bibi could command such immediate respect.

  She turned to one of Rasa’s cousins, Dev, who stared, wide-eyed, at the body. ‘When did this happen? When did you last see him?’ she demanded.

  ‘He went to Maliba’s party and then came home and left early the next morning. I thought he was delayed because of the rain,’ Dev said.

  ‘Nobody must panic,’ Chan said, untying Vijay’s hands. He checked for a pulse, but it was clear from his stiff limbs that Vijay had been dead for many hours. Chan squeezed Maliba’s hand. ‘Take his body home.’

  Chan gestured to Bamu and some of the other young men, gathering them together to carry the body. He was being professional – like a detective or a policeman himself, Leila thought, as he comforted Parva and Bibi. But Leila saw through it. It was all an act.

  ‘We will find out who did this terrible thing,’ he said to the crowd. ‘I promise. We will have to talk to everyone. Everyone who is here on the island. But if anyone knows anything, then they have to tell me now.’

  ‘It can’t be anyone here, Chan,’ Bibi said. ‘Nobody here would do such a thing.’

  There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd, everyone looking at each other in bafflement.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Parva said, tearfully wiping her eyes. ‘Vijay never hurt anyone in his life.’

  ‘What about Rasa?’ Chan said, looking around the crowd. There was an icy glint in his eyes. ‘He’s not here, is he?’

  ‘What about him?’ Parva asked.

  ‘They argued,’ Bamu said.

  ‘Argued?’ Chan pressed.

  Bamu looked down at the ground, suddenly unsure of himself. ‘So I heard. Vijay was unhappy about him going to Cochin. He wanted Rasa to stay here and complete his education with Timothy. He thought Rasa was throwing himself away on an apprenticeship in a car shop.’