Charlie Next Door

by Debashish Irengbam

  Charlie closed his eyes, sighing. ‘Man, I could stay like this the whole day.’

  ‘Well, I can’t. Have to plan for Nimit’s birthday tomorrow. Plus, I have to meet with the Monsoon Goddess committee to finalize my details.’

  ‘I thought you had already signed up.’

  ‘I did. But there is the rest of the nitty-gritty like the outfits I wear, what I will showcase as my special skill in the talent round, and my acceptance speech in case I win.’

  ‘That’s confident.’

  ‘We all do it. Just to make sure no one babbles or fumbles or ends up thanking their labrador in the end.’

  ‘Will you mention me in your acceptance speech?’

  ‘Oh, sure: “And most of all, I would like to thank my stud muffin sitting there in the back row for making me realize – multiple times, if I may add – that I’ve still got what it takes. So up yours, bitches!”’

  ‘Hear, hear!’

  Anupama laughed and pressed her forehead against his, feeling the smoothness of his skin. ‘What if I screw up?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. You’re already a Monsoon Goddess to me.’

  ‘Aww,’ she drawled, pulling him in for a kiss when a loud rap on the bedroom door made them both jump.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt your coochie-cooing, but it’s been three hours since we last ate, and I’m starving!’ yelled Renu from outside.

  ‘Help yourself to anything in the fridge,’ Charlie hollered back.

  ‘I checked already. There’s only a wrinkled potato and a ketchup sachet there.’

  Anupama sighed and got up reluctantly, ignoring Charlie’s pleas to stay. It was for his own good. She didn’t want him to become a casualty to one of Renu’s ballistic food-deprived alter-egos.

  ‘We really need to get you some groceries,’ she said, getting up and pulling on her top. ‘And stop putting potatoes in the fridge. It makes them mouldy.’

  ‘Aye, aye, madam.’

  She walked out into the living room to see Renu packed up already, her lips pursed into a tight line and arms folded. A wave of guilt rose within her for having neglected her friend’s needs. It was rather ironic how the further Renu progressed in her pregnancy, the more maternal Anupama seemed to become.

  ‘So what do you crave this time?’ she asked, the moment they were out of the apartment.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘But you just—’

  ‘I wanted to get you out of there. Let’s talk at your place.’

  And there it was, that familiar foreboding creeping back into her soul as they crossed the hallway to her place. These few seconds before the revelation were the most excruciating for Anupama. Knowing Renu to be a rather subdued and non-dramatic figure in most moments of crises, she could tell it was serious. And personal.

  Nimit was in the living room, watching TV, so they headed for her room. The moment the door shut behind them, Renu began typing away on her cell phone. Not wanting to rush her, Anupama sat down on the bed, waiting with bated breath, until she finally concluded her business and sat down facing her.

  ‘Has Charlie ever mentioned any plans of going out to you?’

  ‘Going out as in what – a vacation?’

  The look of dread on Renu’s face deepened.

  ‘Renu, just tell me,’ said Anupama.

  ‘Did you know that he is here on a short-term lease?’

  ‘No,’ said Anupama, surprised. ‘He never mentioned it, and I didn’t ask. How short?’

  ‘Three months. And if I’m not wrong, this is his third month going on, right? So, if he was planning to stay on here, he would have renewed his rental agreement by now.’

  ‘Maybe he has.’

  ‘I don’t think so. There was nothing in his contracts folder.’

  ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘What do you think I’ve been doing in his home for so many days? I just wanted to make sure you were investing your emotions in the right place.’

  She knew she should have been angry with Renu, but right now, there was a bigger cause to worry about. Perhaps he had forgotten. Most likely it was under processing. It was probably in his bedroom cupboard. Maybe she should just ask him.

  ‘I rang his landlord on the number given on the agreement, just to be sure. I said I was interested in the flat and asked whether the tenant had any plans of staying on. Anu, Charlie hasn’t consented to a renewal, despite repeated reminders.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Just now, before I called you over.’

  The familiar stirrings of an anxiety attack rose within her. No, she couldn’t be anxious. She wouldn’t. Charlie wasn’t a bad guy. She wasn’t a bad person. Nothing bad would happen to them. The time for that was in the past. There had to be a reasonable explanation and everything would be just fine. They had been discussing the future for so long; this just didn’t make any sense.

  ‘When does the agreement end?’ asked Anupama.

  ‘The twenty-seventh of this month.’

  Three weeks. Three weeks left. A lot could happen in three weeks. He would manage to do something; he always did.

  Somewhere outside, the faint echoes of a distant thunder rumbled in the air.

  ‘Anu, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘We don’t know anything yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions.’

  ‘His lease stands cancelled, honey.’

  ‘He could take up another flat nearby.’

  Renu stared at her for a long quiet moment, before nodding. ‘He could,’ she said gently.

  ‘Or maybe, he is having some financial difficulties that he wants to sort out first.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘He probably didn’t want to upset me, which is why he hasn’t said anything.’

  Renu nodded, her eyes compassionate. Anupama wished she would stop looking at her like that. There was nothing tragic about the situation. At least, not yet.

  She flipped open her phone. ‘Let me just call him.’

  ‘Anu, wait.’

  ‘There has to be an explanation.’

  ‘There will be. I just want to make sure you’re prepared for it.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? He told me he won’t run away. He won’t do that to me!’

  ‘I’m not saying he was lying. But you need to stop looking at things purely from your perspective, sweetheart. He is twenty-four. He himself doesn’t know what he will, or won’t, do.’

  ‘You don’t know him, okay? You don’t know us. It’s different. He wouldn’t hide anything from me, least of all something this big.’

  She made a move to punch in his number, when Renu grabbed her hand. ‘Can we at least consider a scenario where you may need to deal with your worst fears coming true? Are you ready for it? Because if you aren’t, you need to be. Otherwise, you’ll be broken. And I can’t have that. Not again.’

  ‘Renu, I need to know.’

  ‘And you will. Just not like this.’

  Like what? She wanted to scream. How much readier could she be? Didn’t she know her? Didn’t she understand? Deep inside, she had been ready the day she had begun to love him, not because she mistrusted him, but because a part of her – a fragment, rather – always knew it was too good to be true. All through her faith and hopes and self-assurances, she had kept that fragment carefully preserved inside her, like a firearm one keeps hidden in the house, trying not to think about it, hoping never to use it, yet being aware of its presence all the same – a source of anxiety, and a source of security should the need arise. How much readier could she be?

  She freed her hand from Renu’s and scurried out before she could stop her. She hurried past the living room, through the main door, crossed the hallway, and rang Charlie’s doorbell until he answered it and let her in with a smile that quickly disappeared when he saw the expression on her face.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you leaving?’

&nbs
p; The momentary silence that hung between them had a weight that threatened to crush her on the spot. The silence was all the confirmation she needed. But she wouldn’t cry. She had decided that.

  ‘I am,’ he said finally. ‘But not for long.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to freak you out. You’ve been so tense lately and I thought you might take it the wrong way.’

  ‘I know everything, Charlie. You’re not renewing your lease.’

  A look of shock crossed his face, probably at the fact that she knew. ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘So, you’re not coming back then?’

  ‘I am. Just not here. I mean, I will be around here, I promise you—’

  ‘I’m not here for promises. Just give me answers. Why are you leaving? Where are you going?’

  ‘Bangalore. It’s a short-term course.’

  ‘In what?’

  ‘Photography.’

  She gawked at him, stupefied.

  ‘Photography? Since when have you been into photography?’

  ‘I’ve always had a tiny interest in it. I didn’t really expect to get through to be honest. It was just a shot. I sent them some pictures that I had clicked on my DSLR and…’

  But she wasn’t listening anymore. She wasn’t interested in the details. It was what this change symbolized as a whole that struck her with the force of a blow. She knew what it meant for him, for her. For them. So, it had happened, after all. His passion had changed yet again. And with that, so had his journey.

  ‘It’s only for three months. I’ll get another place around here again when I’m back.’

  ‘You had promised me … you assured me you were happy…’

  ‘But I am! It’s just a course. What’s the big deal?’

  ‘Isn’t this how it always starts with you? You try something new and then you stick with it, forgetting the past and moving on into that new life. Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because you knew I would try to stop you … except that you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t stop. You never have.’

  ‘Anu—’ He moved forward to touch her, but she recoiled. Hate such as she had never known coursed through her, and it was aimed right at him. She felt cheated and scorned. At that moment, it honestly didn’t matter to her whether he would come back or not. The fact that he was leaving was in itself such a disappointment, such a heart-breaking betrayal … Nothing really mattered anymore, did it? It was all an illusion, just like everything important in her life had been.

  ‘Go on, then. Leave. I won’t stop you. Just get lost!’

  He called out to her and reached for her arm, but she was already out. Charlie ran out into the hallway after her and desperately tried to hold her back; but Anupama yanked her arm free and pushed him away.

  At that moment, neither he nor she, and not even the watchman engrossed in a re-reading of The Trial at his post, was aware of the CCTV camera recording their squabble on screen number five, the black-and-white grainy footage capturing every second of the tussle, tug, push and pull between the duo, the nail-raking, the pleas, the punches – and finally, the reluctant submission of Anupama as Charlie wrapped her into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head as she ineffectually tried to break free one last time, before giving in. Its lens unblinking, the little oblong device dispassionately observed the sobbing woman and the young man comforting her from its dark corner overhead, where it had been unobtrusively and strategically positioned as a mute witness.

  And mute it was. For now.

  26

  The next morning, Anupama knew something was off the moment she woke up. It was a rather peculiar, nagging feeling in her gut, almost like a presentiment. Like when your subconscious seems to know something more than your conscious mind does, but won’t tell you exactly what it is, much to your annoyance.

  Her suspicions were strengthened when she stepped out to get some groceries after her children had left. For one, the young watchman didn’t seem as uninterested as he usually was, but actually gazed at her for all of two seconds before returning to his book. In contrast, the three ladies she met on the way refused to look her in the eye, each murmuring a quick good morning before scuttling away. Weird as it was, she didn’t have much time to dwell on these incidents. She had wished Nimit a very happy birthday this morning and had given him his much-admired iPod Shuffle as a gift, delighting him in a way that only a sixteen-year-old could be delighted by a three-inch over-glorified walkman player with a half-eaten apple as its logo. Yet, the real surprise was waiting for him tonight, when his friends would welcome him home after he returned from his tuitions. Renu was in charge of the invites, and Neena was going to take care of the refreshments, leaving her at home to manage the rest of the arrangements. Easy-peasy. She smiled at the thought of the look on his face. It was his sixteenth birthday. It had to be special. She would make sure of that.

  It was only after she returned home that she saw the two messages and six missed calls on her cell phone (Misha had often chided her for this: ‘it’s called “mobile” for a reason, Mamma!’). The missed calls were all from Mrs Govindikar, a fact that set off the alarm bells in her head, while the two messages were from Mrs Chatterjee, asking her how she was and to get in touch if she needed help. Needed help with what? What on earth was going on? Before she could ponder any further, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from Mrs Govindikar. With an anxious heart, she answered it.

  ‘Where are you, Mrs Arora?’ she asked in a clipped voice – no pleasantries, nothing.

  ‘Home. Why?’

  ‘I need to see you right away. Stay there.’

  And the call was cut.

  Her heart was beginning to pound now. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. But what? She reviewed the previous day’s turmoil and the rather amorphous half-resolution in the end. They had been a bit reckless in the hallway, no doubt, but at that moment, discretion and public opinion had been the last things on her mind. Besides, no one had seen them. No one had been around. That much she was sure of. The only ones in the hallway were her, Charlie and no one el—

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  The camera. The damn CCTV!

  How could she have forgotten?

  An icy numbness spread to the tips of her toes, making her legs go wobbly. She sat down gingerly on the sofa, mouth agape, as the implications and repercussions of yesterday began to dawn upon her. The surveillance system must have recorded everything. There was no turning back now, was there? Not even if she wanted to. No more second chances. It was all irreversibly out.

  Mrs Govindikar arrived at her door, looking livid.

  ‘What in God’s name were you thinking?’ she snarled. ‘I trusted you, Anupama. I trusted you to know what was good for yourself! How foolish could you be?’

  Her first instinct was to apologize, but apologize for what? Getting caught? Lying? Risking her heart and dignity for a man who may not even be here by the end of the month? Even in the stress of the moment, she couldn’t help but feel the bitterness return, threatening to choke her.

  ‘Who all know?’ she asked instead.

  ‘Does it even matter? D’you think this can actually remain a secret anymore? You had a chance, my dear, and you blew it! I can’t protect you anymore. And why should I? You don’t value my opinion anyway. I should have known. I knew that boy was bad news right from the start…’

  She wanted her to be quiet. She wanted some time alone to think. She wanted that painful, throbbing headache at the base of her temples to stop.

  ‘Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs Arora. You have disappointed me. And more than anything, you have disappointed yourself, your family, your—’

  ‘Shut up.’

  She never got the full list of whom she had disappointed, for the rest of the list was choked in Mrs Govindikar’s throat. Her eyes bulged. She looked comical, with her reddened ears and that bulging vein running through the centre of her forehead like an obsce
ne, fleshy worm.

  ‘What … did … you … say?’

  ‘Something you ought to have been told a long time ago. Shut up.’

  Mrs Govindikar drew back aghast.

  ‘How dare you—’

  ‘Did anybody ever tell you that you resemble a dolphin when you’re annoyed?’

  Mrs Govindikar stared at her flabbergasted. It took her a moment to find her words. ‘Have you … lost your mind?’

  ‘Finally, a relevant point of discussion. And the answer to that is: yes, I have, Mrs Govindikar. I have officially lost my mind, because I think it’s about time I did. All my life, I have struggled and slogged and killed myself to stay in control of things that probably never needed my control to begin with. And to what end? What major milestone has any one of us achieved with our control and decorum? What bloody difference has it made?’

  Mrs Govindikar’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, like a dying halibut. ‘This is because of that boy, isn’t it?’ she spluttered finally. ‘What has he done to you?’

  ‘Do me a favour, Mrs Govindikar, and please open your ears and eyes. This isn’t about him. This is about you. You and me. You think I don’t know what’s going on? The CCTV footage is supposed to get checked every weekend as per the rules set by you in the notice board. Today is Wednesday. So how, pray, did you get the report of our “indiscretion” so early in the morning?’

  For the first time since she had known her, she found Mrs Govindikar to be at a loss for words.

  ‘Of course, my first assumption was that it was Mrs Mehtani, because I know that all the other occupants in this block actually have a life,’ continued Anupama. ‘But then, she would obviously need your permission to access those records, right?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Which in turn leads me to believe that I have been singled out and discriminated against by you two for quite some time now. Now it’s your turn to answer my questions, Mrs Govindikar. What exactly is your problem?’

  ‘My problem?’

  ‘What difference does it make to you whether I’m seeing him or not? Which facet of your universe does it affect?’

  ‘This isn’t right, Mrs Arora! I’m just trying to protect you!’