‘I did,’ Manjeet said. ‘He liked it. He said it had the same feeling as my private parts – hairy and warm.’
Nikki had never struggled so hard to keep a straight face. She made eye contact with Sheena, who had her hands cupped over her mouth. Laughter rippled through Sheena’s sleeves.
‘Many women didn’t even know what was expected of them until their wedding night,’ Preetam said. ‘Not me, thankfully, but can you imagine the surprise?’
‘You’re very welcome,’ Arvinder said. ‘I told you everything you had to know.’
‘Really?’ Nikki asked. ‘That’s very progressive of you.’ Arvinder appeared to be well into her eighties. Nikki couldn’t even imagine somebody in Mum’s generation discussing the birds and the bees. Once again, she had underestimated Arvinder, and Manjeet as well, with her creative alternative methods of pleasuring her husband.
‘Hanh, well, I thought it was important,’ Arvinder said. ‘God knows, I didn’t know what real satisfaction felt like until somebody bought me one of those electric shoulder massagers. I tell you what, they’re good for releasing tension in many places.’
The women laughed. Nikki wanted to remind them to keep the noise down but a glimpse at Manjeet’s face stopped her: the traces of sadness around her eyes were replaced by deep laugh lines. She looked gratefully at the widows, her stark white dupatta slipping off onto her shoulders where she let it rest.
Chapter Six
Kulwinder squinted at the forms, trying to concentrate. A moment ago, the women’s voices had risen again, disrupting her thoughts. She had been tempted to storm into the room but they had settled down before she could get up from her chair. Now her inability to focus could be blamed on the silence. Without distraction, she could not hide from these new English words. The visitor visa forms to India for her annual trip had changed recently, with an added layer of perplexing questions and declarations about national security. The reasons an Indian needed a visa to enter India were baffling enough, let alone this complicated vocabulary. She had raised both questions with the Lucky Star Travel Agents who had reminded her patiently that she was a British citizen, and had been for over two decades. ‘Officially, you’re not Indian,’ the agent said. To Kulwinder, this explained nothing.
Her eyes were tired. She had left her trusted pair of bifocals at home and she decided she would need them to finish these forms. She’d already missed the last bus home, so she left the building and cut across the car park. Behind her, there were a few people from the temple but once she went off this main road it would just be herself and the houses with their shuttered windows. She marched quickly, her eyes trained on the distant lights.
As Kulwinder turned on to her road, she became aware of the sound of shuffling feet behind her. Training her eyes on her house in the distance, she picked up her pace. The person following sped up as well. Their close presence made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end. It was only a matter of seconds before they caught up with her. She spun around, ‘When are you going to leave me alone?’ she cried.
The follower took a step back. Kulwinder’s heart galloped in her chest. It did not slow down when she realized it was Tarampal Kaur.
‘I need to speak with you,’ Tarampal said.
‘About what?’ Kulwinder asked.
‘A conflict I’m having.’ Tarampal lowered her gaze. ‘I’m just not sure how you’ll react.’
Kulwinder stiffened. She noticed that Tarampal looked shifty. She was clasping and unclasping her hands as if there was something she was meant to be holding. Kulwinder’s heart began to race again. She was not prepared to have this conversation with Tarampal in the middle of the street. ‘Is this about—’ She couldn’t continue. She spent so much time trying not to dwell on the connection between Maya and Tarampal that she couldn’t even say one’s name in front of the other.
‘The writing class,’ Tarampal said. ‘The other women aren’t doing very much work.’
‘Oh.’ The sharp exhalation was involuntary, as if Kulwinder had been punched. Overlapping feelings of relief and disappointment shredded her voice to a whisper. ‘The class.’ Of course Tarampal wasn’t going to talk about Maya. What had she expected? Tears sprang to Kulwinder’s eyes. She was suddenly grateful to be standing in the shadows.
‘I’ve been keeping up with the writing and reading exercises,’ Tarampal said. ‘But the other women are just there to …’ she hesitated. ‘Fool around.’
So the women were giggling and being friendly with each other and Tarampal felt excluded. Why was Tarampal coming to her with petty complaints rather than dealing with it herself? ‘You need to speak to them. Or to the teacher,’ Kulwinder said.
Tarampal crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I could complain about the classes, you know. I could tell Gurtaj Singh that they’re not very productive. I don’t complain because I don’t want to create any trouble for you.’
‘It’s far too late for that.’ The words shot out before Kulwinder had time to think.
Tarampal looked hurt. She lowered her gaze. ‘I really hope that you and I can be friends again.’
Never, Kulwinder thought but she was careful not to react this time. Tarampal wasn’t interested in friendship. She only wanted to keep a closer eye on Kulwinder. Kulwinder wouldn’t be surprised if this were why she had signed up for the classes.