by Mukul Deva
“What if I need you for an emergency?”
“Send me a text … something personal … like asking for a date or something.”
“That’s a nice thought.” Mark laughed.
“Yeah right, but don’t get excited.” Despite the stress, Ruby could not help chuckling. “I’m only a woman, remember?”
“Pity. What a man you’d have made.” He laughed. “But I get the drift.”
“Have you gotten hold of the team?”
“Yep. All three will be here by tomorrow night. The Aussies at Maurya Sheraton and the German at Taj Mansingh. All booked.”
“That’s perfect.” She noted down the room numbers. “They’ll have enough time for a thorough recon, then.”
“Yes, they will.” Pause. “They asked about the payment. All three of them.”
“It will be waiting when they get here,” Ruby replied, making a mental note to call one of the financiers Pasha had provided; in all the turmoil, that had slipped her mind.
“When is the stuff from Chennai due to reach?”
“I spoke to the transport guy. He said it’s en route … by tomorrow, for sure.”
“Fine, then we’re on schedule.” Ruby felt satisfied. “Now you have to let me know when and where we meet your man.”
“I’m still thinking about the venue.” Mark hesitated, unsure whether he should share his misgivings about Nanda.
But Ruby picked up on them. “What is it?” She probed and then listened as Mark told her what had happened after the meeting with Nanda.
“I don’t know what exactly he was up to, but I have a bad feeling about—” He broke off. “Well, maybe not bad, but I don’t have a good feeling about this bugger now.”
Ruby understood the feeling; something all operatives encountered every so often in the field. She had found it was always a good idea to trust this feeling. “I hear you, Mark,” Ruby said softly. “And I agree … we need to be careful.”
“That’s why I’ve got to ensure it’s a safe place.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing yet, but I am going to recon a couple of places today. Public parks, monuments … that kind of thing.”
“Good idea. Let me know.” She was about to end the call when it hit her. “Does he know where you’re staying?”
“Are you kidding me? He doesn’t even know my full name. Just Mark.”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t treat you like one we’re good.”
Even so, she was not feeling good when she rang off.
With worry about Nanda and now in a hurry to pack and move, she again forgot to call the financier.
It was almost four by the time she checked out and headed for Ravinder’s house. The stress of how Ravinder’s family would react to her mounted as the car nosed its way through the crazy Delhi traffic.
She saw colorful banners festooned all along the roads, and huge billboards displayed some Bollywood star or the other; the city was in a frenzy preparing for the games this coming Monday. But Ruby hardly noticed any of it.
* * *
Ravinder was pacing the garden when a Toyota Innova halted outside the black metal gates. One of the security guards went out to check on it while the other two covered him, their weapons at the ready. Ravinder was happy to note they were alert; Mohite was obviously ensuring the duty officer was briefing them daily.
The rear window of the Innova slid down, and Ravinder saw Ruby’s head emerge. She was about to say something to the guard when Ravinder called out, waving at the guards to allow her in.
The gates swung back, and Ruby’s car drove in.
She immediately spotted the harried look he seemed enveloped in and felt a wave of morbid satisfaction. She had no intention of being taken in by his tall tales now, with Rehana no longer around to tell the other side of the story. Yet a part of her did feel his pain. And Ruby again regretted that Rehana had never spoken to her about what had happened between them.
The servant must have heard him calling out to the guards to let the car in; he reached the Innova as it halted, almost at the same time as Ravinder.
“Take the luggage to the guest room and then get some tea for us,” Ravinder told him as he held the door open for Ruby. “Come, let us sit in the garden for a bit.… It’s a lovely day.”
Ruby looked around; it certainly was. The rain had melted away and the sun, now on its way down, bathed the garden, imparting a reddish tinge to it. She noted rows of color-coordinated flowers in the beds that bordered the neatly tonsured interior grass, separating the grass from the high, yellow-colored, brick boundary wall that ringed the house. The grass was still wet with rain.
On one side of the garden was an old banyan tree, its leafy branches providing an umbrella-like shade. Under it was a wrought-iron garden table, with an ornate garden swing to one side and matching iron chairs with bright cushions on the other sides. At the far end, she could see an aluminum ladder with a pair of garden shears balanced on the top step.
Despite the road running only a few meters away, the bungalow was bathed in a peaceful silence, broken only by the occasional car driving past. A tranquil picture, in contrast with the turmoil gripping most people here.
Ruby followed Ravinder to the garden table. Then skirting past it, she went to the garden swing and sat facing him.
Before either could speak, a servant came out bearing a laden tray. They sat in silence as the tea was laid out.
An elaborate silver service; and along with it were some delicately cut cheese and cucumber sandwiches, an assortment of biscuits and some walnut cake. Ravinder saw that Simran had ensured everything was just right. He could see her peering out from the dining room window, curious to see Ruby, but too proud—or was it insecure?—to come out.
Ruby was slowly rocking the swing back and forth. She appeared at peace yet was probably seething with questions. Even as he thought that, she spoke.
“Will you tell me what happened, Father? Back then?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have waited a long time.” Her bitterness reached out to him.
Ravinder wanted to take her in his arms. Deciding he had to try despite his fears and her anger, he mustered the courage, went across, and sat down in the swing beside her. A world of gentleness was in the hand that stroked her hair.
A wetness came to Ruby’s eyes. The woman craved the contact. The terrorist resented it. She blinked, trying to fight it off, but not quite managing. The woman fought back harder; the woman who wanted to know more about her past, her parents, the life she should have had, the incomplete childhood, those untold bedtime stories, birthday parties, family picnics, and all those dreams that had been snatched away. The little girl who just wanted to bury her face in her father’s chest. Yes, she wanted him back. But she didn’t move. Confusion stilled her.
“Mom never spoke to me about all this … about what happened between you two. I think I need to know.… I deserve to know.”
From inside the house, the hissing whistle of a pressure cooker letting off steam sounded, clear as a bell in the silence between them. It subsided abruptly.
“Yes.” Ravinder looked away. Nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“So, what happened between you two? Why did you leave?”
The pressure cooker whistle exploded again.
“Is that what Rehana told you?”
Ruby pondered before she said, slowly, “No, she never actually said that.” Ruby searched for the right words. “But that is what she always implied.”
“I did not leave, Ruby.” His voice went soft; he felt bad having to discredit Rehana, especially now that she was dead. “Your mother did.” He also sensed that the truth would go down badly with Ruby. He was right.
She cringed away. But she knew he was telling the truth. This had to be why Rehana had always been reluctant to talk about it.
“Why?” she whispered. “What happened between you two? And whatever it was, why did I have to pa
y the price?”
“You should not have had to pay the price.”
“So what did happen?”
“I think the rift between us began when I came home one day and found her hosting a meeting of Palestinian activists, an unsavory bunch. I knew that, sooner or later, they would get Rehana into trouble. She got worked up when I forbade her to have such people in our house again.”
Ravinder paused, feeling his way through the fog and trying to recall that day.
“She did not say anything to me, but from that day, her attitude changed. She began to shut me out more and more. And then”—he was having trouble talking—“one day I came home and found she was gone, taking you with her. She had left a short note for me, which really said nothing.”
Ruby’s tears came as memories of that horrible day trickled back to her.
Rehana had bundled her out of the house right after Ravinder went out that morning. Two suitcases were already packed. Brushing aside her questions, they had gone straight to the airport. Ruby was excited by the surprise adventure, but later she began to tire. She wanted to go home; she wanted her father.
“Why is Daddy not with us?” The first few times she asked, Rehana had fobbed her off. Eventually, when Ruby did not stop, she lost her patience.
“He is not.”
“But why not? I cannot sleep unless he tells me a story.”
“I will tell you a story if you stop crying.”
“No! Daddy always does that.”
“Well, he will not do that anymore.”
Then she’d let off loud tearful sobs. By time they subsided, the drone of the aircraft engines and her ears getting blocked made her cry again.
Ruby felt relieved when Ravinder’s words intruded on her memory. “Though Rehana had been uneasy for some weeks … I had no idea she was so upset. I never actually came to know what had happened.”
They both lapsed into silence. Neither knew where the conversation was headed, but both did know whatever it was, it now needed to be out in the open.
Ravinder mused. “Do you have any idea what happened? Where did you guys go?”
Ruby was about to reply when she realized that she could not tell him that Rehana had taken her to Palestine. She sensed that it must have been the cause of her people that made Rehana leave; she’d always placed that far above everything else … even me.
“We moved so often … before we finally settled down in London,” Ruby recovered, needing to move away from this dangerous question. Rehana’s love for her cause and the manner of her death were two facts that might well make Ravinder sit up and take notice. Even question her sudden arrival here.
“Yes, I thought so,” he said, “since the divorce papers were from a London lawyer. I asked him several times where you two were, but he refused. And all the letters and messages I sent came back unopened.”
“You did not contest the divorce?” Ruby challenged. But even as she spoke, the realization that Rehana had lied about all this hit her hard.
Would Mom really have done that? What else did she lie to me about?
“How do I explain to you what things were like for me in those days, Ruby? With you two gone, I was … devastated. And my parents were giving me hell. In fact, it was my mother who first received the divorce documents. I was not at home, and she only told me about them after the court dates were over and the divorce was a done deal.”
Ruby, relieved that the conversation had moved away from problematic territory, changed the subject. “How did the two of you meet?”
A slow smile lit up Ravinder’s face. “You sound just like Rehana.” His mind fled back thirty years.
Ruby sat still, eager for answers to the questions that had always plagued her.
“It started as one of those regular evenings.” Ravinder was now hardly aware of his solitary audience. “I was coming back from college and decided to go to the pub with some friends. We came out after a couple of beers and were strolling down the street when we heard a loud scream.”
* * *
Rehana was walking a couple of steps behind her aunt Zahira, more to avoid conversation than anything else; an arrangement that suited the aunt just fine since she had yet to figure out a way to handle the highly strung Rehana and was still uneasy in her company.
Two muggers erupted out of an alley as Zahira and Rehana came abreast. The one who had a knife landed plumb in front of Rehana, slashed the air menacingly with his knife. “Your money, bitch,” he hissed.
The second gave Zahira a hard shove, dropping her on the pavement, then threw himself on her and bit her gold ear bobs off. Zahira screamed. Blood spurted. The mugger was making a beeline for her other ear when a volley of shouts rang out.
“Hey! What’s going on here?”
They all looked and saw three young men rushing toward them. The muggers fled, vanishing into the gloom.
A few windows had opened across the road and people were peering out. One must have called the cops because a patrol car pulled up just as the men who had chased after the muggers returned to the shocked women.
By now Rehana had recovered her wits. She was trying to staunch the bleeding from her aunt’s ears when the cops arrived.
“We need to get you to a hospital, ma’am,” the copper said after one look at Zahira’s torn-off earlobe.
He was helping her to the patrol car when Rehana noticed one of the rescuers. In his twenties, dressed in jeans and a light wool jacket that set off his broad shoulders and contrasted with his navy blue turban. He was staring at her as though struck by lightning. Flustered, she gave a tentative, grateful smile.
That was all it took.
* * *
Ravinder gave a happy laugh. “She was standing there with flushed cheeks and long, lush hair blown all over her face, still shaken. Then she looked at me … and smiled.”
Ruby could almost see the story playing in his head as he narrated it to her.
“How can I explain to you what Rehana was like in those days, Ruby?” He gave her a long look. “She was just like you. The same look … the same smile … the same … One look and I was gone. I fell for her hopelessly.” He laughed again. It was infectious. Ruby could not help smiling back.
She could tell from the faraway look in his eyes that the story was not yet over.
“I soon found myself in the hospital with Rehana and her aunt.” Ravinder’s voice was soft now.
Perhaps he still misses Mom.
How could it be? Mom could not have lied to me about all this … could she?
“I realized I had not even introduced myself.”
* * *
“I am Ravinder.” It was only at the hospital that I said that to her. Zahira was off being tended to by the doctor. “Ravinder Singh Gill,” he expanded, his tone soft. He spoke the clean, pristine Queen’s English, a hallmark of most top-notch Indian public schools. His gaze fixed unblinkingly on Rehana, as if looking away would be unthinkable.
“Rehana,” she replied, taking his proffered hand.
Ravinder was happily oblivious of his having latched on to it, like a Crusader who had chanced upon the Holy Grail.
She gave him a sharp look, which softened into an amused glance as she realized there was no malice in the man hanging on to her hand. The adoring look Ravinder bestowed upon her was starting to unsettle her, but in a good way. Rehana realized that she … yes, she liked it.
“My hand,” Rehana pointed out softly with a smile.
Puzzled, he looked at down at it. “Oh!” he said feeling embarrassed. “I did not…” Then he ran out of words. After a few false starts, he repeated, “I am Ravinder Singh Gill.”
“Yes, you told me.” She smiled back, mischievously now. She was beginning to enjoy the moment. “I am Rehana.”
“Rehana,” he repeated. “It is a lovely name. I like it.” He again realized what he had said and turned red. “What does it mean?”
“You should know. You’re an Indian.”
“How did you know?” He realized it was a dumb question and turned redder.
Rehana smiled, giving his turban a pointed look. “You guys are everywhere.”
“Yes.” He laughed. “I guess we do get around.”
“And how. I don’t think the Brits had any idea when they quit India that you guys planned to follow them home … and take their jobs.”
This time both laughed.
“So? What does ‘Rehana’ mean?”
“It means a handful of sweet basil.”
“Basil? Hmm … I like basil.”
“Do you, now?”
Of course, Rehana did not know it then, but in the coming days he’d latched on to her, making no bones about his intention to woo her.
Rehana loved it. For once, there was a person who had no agenda but to pivot his existence around her. Walks in the park, trips to the theater, lunches and dinners and, of course, soon stolen kisses and long, fevered hugs. He swept her off her feet.
Anyone who met Ravinder in those days would not have believed that just days ago he had been a dedicated and hardworking law student. His parents, who with heavy heart had sent their firstborn to London, would have been aghast.
For him too, it was a new emotion he was experiencing. He’d had his crushes before, but nothing close to this.
For both of them, everything was perfect. Even the London weather was behaving.
To the chagrin of her uncle and confusion of her aunt, Ravinder became a fixture in their lives. They were irritated by the unabashed attention he was giving to their niece. That he was not a Muslim bothered them, but not overly. And that he was a well-brought-up young man from a family of means did not escape their attention either. But what was most confusing was that their niece became an absolutely new person. Usually withdrawn and taciturn, Rehana was now unable to stop smiling. Zahira was blown away to find her helping with the housework and being pleasant about it too.
But the uncle worried. “Don’t you realize what a responsibility it is for us?”
