Different Senses

by Ann Somerville

  “Yeah. Speaking of owing....” I made another a call. “Shardul? Thought you’d like to know the police are chasing another possible line of enquiry—Tushar’s ex. That might explain the lack of chatter.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “And it would mean it’s not racially motivated. That’d be good news, right?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Shardul, I’m trying to be nice here.”

  “Oh? Sorry, I’m distracted. I hope this is the answer.”

  “Yeah, me too. Oh, and Tushar sends his deep gratitude for the accommodation. I owe you.”

  “Not on his account.” A slight frostiness in his voice warned me not to get into that. “Javen, I need to go. Have you thought more about my cousin’s design practice?”

  “No, but I promise I will. When this thing with Tushar is over.”

  “I can hardly wait. I must go.”

  Only when he hung up did I realise there were two ways of taking what he’d just said, and I scowled.

  “Ah now, poor Tushar’s good influence only lasts until Shardul-ji has a go at you.”

  “Don’t you have clients to see, Madan?”

  “Certainly. After lunch. Until then I’m content to watch your changing moods, like the passing of clouds in the sunset.”

  I had no answer to that which wouldn’t lead to me stomping out of the office in a temper, so I made another rude gesture and turned my chair around so he couldn’t watch my ‘clouds’. Damn nosy partners.

  Lieutenant Dawil caught up with us in the little restaurant in old Hegal where we ate supper under the watchful eye of one of Dawil’s officers. Tushar invited him to sit, and he did, looking quite cheerful. “Good tip off, sergeant. Sri Tushar, your ex-lover is here in Hegal. Are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

  “Mitul? No, and neither has Lalit.” Ursemin nodded to confirm Tushar’s words. “Is he the one?”

  Ursemin spewed tension at my empathy. I guessed the new, unsuspected threat wasn’t exactly good news to him. “We haven’t located him yet,” Dawil said. “If he makes contact, you must get in touch. If he’s behind all this, the willingness to commit violence worries me a lot.”

  “He was never violent. Loud, yes.”

  “He hit you,” Ursemin said. “In that last fight. You had a black eye for weeks.”

  “But I provoked him. He was angry.”

  I touched Tushar’s arm. “Someone who hits the one they claim to love isn’t to be trusted. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He ducked his head. “I don’t believe it’s Mitul, that’s all.”

  “It’s early days to assume anything,” Dawil said. “There still could be two separate threats, and even if this man is behind the attacks, you must remain cautious. I’ll leave you in peace, for now.”

  Tushar poked at his food after Dawil left. “It would be nice to know who it was. But I don’t want to think it’s him.”

  “Better someone with a connection than a random attacker. At least that makes sense, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  Ursemin grinned at his charge. “Now, don’t be like that, Tushar. You concentrate on your music, leave the rest to me and the police, eh?”

  I winced at the man’s tactlessness. “It’s not something anyone can easily ignore, Lalit.”

  “Yes, but what’s the point of fretting? He’s well protected with you and these gentlemen, and no one would attack us here, right?”

  I didn’t argue because it would worry Tushar. “The main thing is you’re safe here,” I said to my lover. “Deal with anything else when it happens.”

  He nodded, then pushed his plate away. “I don’t feel so hungry now. Anyone want it?”

  “You should eat,” his manager said. “But if you really don’t want it, I’ll pinch a little.”

  I squeezed Tushar’s thigh under the table. “Maybe you need cheering up. I know a way to do that.”

  The sweet smile he gave me was all the reward I needed.

  Reluctantly, because I really did have work to do and because it made it easier to whisk Tushar to where he needed to be and back, I stayed away from him during the day and only caught up with him after his performances. Five more shows, and then Ursemin had planned a couple of months of Tushar recording, writing songs, being interviewed, and attending events like the midyear festival in Arni, a huge indigenous religious celebration for which he’d be the headline act. Ursemin had also lined up a number of promotions like visiting prominent stores at the owner’s request, to keep interest in Tushar high.

  Left to me, I’d have taken him away up to the mountains for a good long rest, but Ursemin told me bluntly this was a crucial time for Tushar’s career and an absence now would mean lost momentum which he might never regain. Since Tushar’s career meant so much to him, I bowed to Ursemin’s judgement, though I’d damn well override him if I felt Tushar couldn’t cope. No career was that important.

  Still Ursemin had grudgingly allowed me to take away Tushar for a long weekend as soon as the concerts were finished, and when we returned, Lieutenant Dawil thought they should be able to move back to Ursemin’s house, though still under police protection. Things would get back to something approaching normal, not that anything about being with Tushar was normal. Or boring. I’d never had a lover so much younger than me. I envied Tushar his endless energy and optimism, and tried to keep a lid on my naturally gloomy nature for his sake. The difference in our ages and temperaments worried me more than the racial divide. So far, Shardul’s predictions about how bad it would be for Tushar to have a Kelon lover, had come to nothing.

  Staying away until later in the evening meant I could finally catch up with Yashi and Tara. I felt bad they’d heard about my new relationship over the news channels, but Yashi was as pleased as anything for me. “He’s a lovely kid. You looked terrific together.”

  “How did the boys take it?” I asked Tara.

  “Fine. A little teasing at school, but they’re used to it because of your father. The other teachers at school though.” She whistled and shook her hand as if it was burned. “Jealousy coming out of their ears. I tell you, I’ve never been this popular. Every single staff member asked me for concert tickets and autographs. I had to tell them that my mean brother-in-law hadn’t even got me an autograph.”

  “Hey, I didn’t know you wanted one. I’ll arrange it. Tell me what you want. No concert tickets this time around, but next time, sure. He loves giving things away.”

  “Will you bring him over?” Yashi asked. “We’d like to meet him. As family, I mean.”

  “As soon as the concert run is over and the police deal with the guy behind these attacks. He wants to meet you. Dad must be spitting blood though.”

  “Oh, didn’t you read? Someone managed to get a statement out of him. He said, ‘I wish them both happiness.’”

  “Really? He said that on the record?”

  “I don’t know. Doesn’t sound like him at all.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Don’t believe him either.”

  “Come on, Javen,” Tara said, reaching for her water glass. “Your father’s not going to wish you bad luck, is he?”

  “You’d be surprised. And don’t tell me he wants a banis son-in-law because I’ll haul you off to the hospital and have them examine you for insanity.”

  She laughed. “I’m not that crazy. But Tushar has a way of making people forget he’s indigenous.”

  I didn’t think he’d be thrilled to hear that. “I think—I hope—he’s making a few people reassess their automatic responses. But I don’t think he’s enough to break down my parents’ attitudes.”

  “I bet Tushar’s performing at the residence before the end of the year,” Yashi said. “If you ask me, he’s risking overexposure. Everyone’s talking about him, you can’t watch a media feed without seeing him, and his music is in every store you walk into.”

  “This is his moment, his manager says. When it’s over, someone else will take his place. Can’t
blame him for taking what he can now.”

  “No. And he does write catchy little tunes. I found myself humming one during surgery today. Embarrassing.”

  Tara grinned. “So much for ‘it’s girly music’, then. He made me turn off the music in the auto the other day, saying he didn’t want to be seen listening to it. Hypocrite.”

  Yashi threw up his hands. “I told you, you can’t get away from it! It’s like a plague.”

  “I am not telling him that,” I said in exasperation. “Honestly, I hope you can be politer than that when he comes to visit. What a way to talk about my lover.”

  “He better get used to it. This household is a zoo,” Yashi said, and his wife promptly hit him over the head with a cushion for being so rude. “See?”

  “Maybe we should elope.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Tara said, wagging a finger. “If you two get married, I’ll be queen of the school. Maybe even of Hegal. I plan to milk it for all it’s worth.”

  I buried my face in the cushion Yashi had tossed away from him.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Tushar’s ex was still on the loose, but there had been no more threats or attacks, and I hoped whoever it was had been spooked. Or just given up maybe, when he’d seen he hadn’t been able to stop Tushar performing. We all took precautions, of course, and concertgoers were all searched for weapons, but as the last concert approached, the tension in all three of us lessened. Unwisely, most likely, but it wasn’t possible to live stretched to the limit without constant reminders of the threat, and our mysterious assailants weren’t cooperating.

  On the night of the final concert I packed for my weekend away, planning to surprise my lover by taking him to a luxury resort two hours from Hegal by maglev that very evening. Then all I had to do was spend some precious time with my nephews before their bedtime, and then with their parents. I brought up my plans to start looking for land in earnest once I came back to Hegal, but we got talking about Tara trying to decide whether she should stay teaching or whether now would be the time to move to home-based work, writing materials for use in schools, something she’d been wanting to do for a while. “The thing is, I’m worried about being bored. You know what it’s like, Javen. When you were off for all those months.”

  “I didn’t have a job, and I didn’t have the right attitude. I could have been doing so many things with that free time.”

  “But if I’m working from home, I’d have to be here.” Her phone went. “Sorry. Mind if I...?” Yashi and I waved at her to go ahead. “Hello, Hita. What? Hang on.” She turned to me. “Javen, switch on the media screen. Something’s happened at the concert hall!”

  I jumped up to find the remote, and switched it on. “Which channel?”

  “All of them. Look!” Police and other emergency vehicles surrounded the concert hall, and a reporter was in the middle of talking about what had happened. Something about an evacuation. “She says there was a bomb.”

  Beloved reason. “I’m going down there. You guys stay here.”

  “Javen, it’s dangerous.”

  “And it’s my lover. I’ll call you.” I gave Tara a quick kiss on the cheek, and Yashi a grim smile, before rushing out to the garage and into my auto.

  I called Ursemin’s number, but it was busy. I tried Shardul. “What’s happening, do you know? I heard it was a bomb.”

  “Not a bomb. A bomb threat. No one’s in danger.”

  “Oh. I’m halfway there. Where are you?”

  “At home, of course. What can I do? For that matter, what can you do?”

  “I don’t know, I just wanted to be there. It’s a natural reaction.”

  “Of course. Talk to you later, Javen.”

  Now I felt like an idiot, but it was close enough to when the concert would have finished that turning around and going back to the house was a waste of time. I could drop Tushar off for a shower and return for my bags later.

  I had to park some distance away from the concert hall, because the police had closed off a number of streets. Everyone was relaxed though, so the threat was either not real or dealt with. “Why can I hear music?” I asked one of the cops preventing vehicle access to the parking area.

  He grinned. “Go see for yourself. I’d take a look but I’m on duty.”

  Even more confused, I followed my ears. As I drew closer, the press of emotions from a huge number of people made my head throb—but why weren’t people angry? Or worried or even just curious? All I was getting was...happiness. Excitement, even lust.

  What in the name of sanity was going on?

  I rounded a corner, and I had my answer. Tushar up on a makeshift stage constructed from two large recycling containers, and on the ground in front of him, musicians and dancers. Now I was closer I could hear him singing. Unamplified, so only the instrumental music carried further than this, but the crowd could hear him because they were clapping and dancing, swaying to his catchy song and the insistent rhythm of the drummers.

  Of course. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint his fans, so he’d taken his show to the people. I looked around and saw smiling police officers, and a number of reporters and cameramen recording the happy crowds. I moved away, not wanting to be part of the show, content to watch Tushar doing what he did so well—charming the pants off everyone.

  My phone went. “Javen, it’s Lalit. I wanted to let you know there might be a delay in getting away tonight.”

  “I’m here, watching him. What happened?”

  “Where are you? I’m over to the right of where he’s singing.”

  “Can’t see you. Too many people. I heard there was a bomb threat?”

  “Yes, direct to my phone. The police said it was serious and cleared the place. But Tushar jumped up on those bins and started to sing, and the dancers joined in and....”

  “Suddenly we’ve got Hegal’s biggest street party. He sure knows how to turn bad things to good.”

  “He’s an amazing talent.”

  “Know who sent the threat?”

  “No. The police are trying to track it but it could have been made from anywhere. At least it was the last show.”

  “And I figure people will think they got the best of the lot. How long will he keep this up?” Two elderly people dancing in each other’s arms, jostled me, lost in the music and the moment. I moved out of their way.

  “For at least an hour. And then I’ve arranged an interview live with the news channels. So...I don’t think you can leave tonight. And in fact, it would be good for his career if he could be here this weekend.”

  “But I’ve booked and paid for it all.”

  “Please, Javen. Someone’s trying to wreck his career, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. You can go away next weekend, I promise. Please?”

  “Lalit, you can work him too hard.”

  “I know, but he wants this. It’s not just me.”

  I looked at Tushar singing his heart out, and felt the affection and enjoyment pouring out of the crowd towards him. “Okay. But next weekend, no compromise.”

  “Of course. Damn! That’s the festival. I forgot, Javen.”

  Damn it, so had I. “Okay. The weekend after.”

  “Without fail. Swear on my mother’s life.”

  “I believe you. So, I guess there’s no point hanging around this evening.”

  “No. It’ll be very late by the time he’s finished. I’ve arranged for him to be in a hotel this one night to avoid disturbing our hosts. He’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “All right. Can you let him know I called and...well, I called.”

  “Of course, Javen. He’ll make it up to you.”

  The disappointment was hard, but when I remembered how many times I’d blown Kirin off because of work, I supposed this was no different. I called Yashi. “Hey, plans have changed, and I have a fully-paid up luxury weekend I can’t use. Want to take the family away for the weekend, my treat?”

  “Javen, you can’t! That hotel was expensive.”
<
br />   “So? I can afford it. I’m sending the details to your account, and I’ll be home soon. The kids can sleep all the way there.” I gave him the booking reference, and the time they needed to be on the maglev. He could make it easily, and the boys would love it. Tara could do with a break too. “Don’t worry about the house. Just pack, go, and I’ll watch everything.”

  “Owe you one, brother.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Go.”

  Tushar was still giving it his all. After this performance, and running the press gauntlet, even he would be too tired for sex. I felt like a bad boyfriend for not hanging around, but having to worry about me was a stress he didn’t need. I walked back to the auto, and with luck I’d see my family before they headed off.

  Oh well. Penalty of dating the famous. Now I could start land hunting sooner than I planned.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Tushar called me breathlessly at lunchtime the next day to apologise for wrecking my plans, and to thank me for being so understanding. “Did you see the interview? Did it sound okay?”

  “Sweetheart, you stole the nation’s soul. If you haven’t convinced half of us to convert to udawa I’d be amazed.”

  “But I just said what I felt. I don’t hate them. I forgive them, but I wish they would stop because it’s hurting other people.”

  “Tushar, do you know how rare such statements are?”

  “No?”

  I laughed. “You’re adorable. Can I come over now?”

  “Oh, I wish you could because I miss you. But a rich man up north has asked me to perform at his daughter’s birthday party.”

  “What man?”

  “Um, some mining person? I didn’t catch his name. It’s all been arranged really fast, and he’s flying me, all the dancers, and the musicians up to his estate in an hour.”

  “Wow. What’s that costing him?”

  “A lot of money, I know that. Apparently he offered whatever price Lalit asked. I wanted to see you but I couldn’t take the chance away from the others. It’s good for them.”