Tarampal shook her head. ‘Jaggi would never do anything to hurt anybody. He’s not that kind of man.’ Her eyes shone and a small smile played on her lips. ‘He’s such a good man.’
Yuck, Nikki thought. She couldn’t help thinking of the widows’ conversations about mothers-in-law sleeping between their sons and their wives. She wondered what Maya’s fate would have been if Tarampal had had sons instead of daughters. Perhaps she would have been less zealous about Jaggi. Or perhaps Maya would have been forced to marry one of her sons.
‘Look, I know that you care for Jaggi very much but it’s possible that you don’t have all the details,’ Nikki said.
Tarampal shook her head. ‘Kulwinder’s just out to get him because she’s feeling guilty.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Nikki asked gently. ‘I think you’ve been misled.’
‘You’re the one being misled, Nikki,’ Tarampal insisted. ‘I know you think you’ve got some supposed evidence against Jaggi but I can tell you, it’s not real.’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘I spoke to Kulwinder earlier this evening. She came around to my house and told me she was going to the police. I tried to talk her out of it; I finally convinced her to give me your address so I could talk to you myself.’
‘Kulwinder gave you my address?’ What was Kulwinder playing at, sending Tarampal here? And why go to Tarampal’s house to gloat about finding evidence? Something did not make sense. ‘I don’t have the registration form, if that’s what you’re here for.’
Tarampal’s face fell. ‘Who has it then?’
‘Kulwinder does. She didn’t show it to you?’
Tarampal’s eyes darted away from Nikki’s. ‘No, she said you have it and she told me if I wanted it, I needed to talk to you.’ Her voice wavered. She was clearly lying.
In her mind, Nikki could see the registration form neatly folded in her satchel, which she had kicked under her bed after taking out her phone and going downstairs for the pub session with the widows earlier. ‘I don’t have it,’ Nikki said. She noticed Tarampal looking around the flat, searching desperately. Nikki stood up. ‘I think you should leave, Bibi Tarampal.’
‘I’ve come all this way,’ Tarampal said. ‘At least make me a cup of tea? I offered you that courtesy when you came to my home.’
‘I’m sorry, I haven’t got tea. I wasn’t expecting guests,’ Nikki replied. She knew she was being uncivil but this visit was making her uneasy. Tarampal cleared her throat loudly and nodded. She stood up and walked ahead of Nikki towards the door, no longer careful to avoid the creaky floorboards. While putting on her shoes, she cleared her throat once more and began to cough.
‘Oh,’ Tarampal cried. ‘Oh, I’ve got this terrible cough from being out in the rain.’ With a thud, she leaned her weight against the door and continued to cough. ‘Could you please just put the kettle on and warm some water for me before I go back out there?’
Tarampal’s theatrics rivalled Preetam’s. ‘Fine,’ Nikki said. She returned to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water, sneaking glances at Tarampal. She coughed again. Nikki wished she didn’t feel a little bit sorry for her. She opened her cupboard. If Tarampal didn’t mind an Earl Grey, maybe Nikki should just make her a cup before sending her on her way.
‘Tarampal, would you like—’ Nikki looked up and stopped. The door was open and Tarampal was leaning outside, whispering urgently to someone. ‘Who’s there?’ Nikki demanded. The door flung open and a man barged into the flat, ushering Tarampal back inside, kicking the door shut behind him. A scream rose and died in Nikki’s throat. It was the man who had followed her the other night.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she gasped.
‘Block the door,’ he said to Tarampal. She scrambled to the door and pressed her back against it. He pointed a finger at Nikki. ‘If you scream, you’ll pay for it,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Do you understand?’ She nodded quickly. Over the man’s shoulder, she could see that Tarampal’s eyes were wide with attention, not surprise. She had helped him enter her flat. This had to be Jaggi.
‘I saw you the other night,’ Nikki said. ‘You … you were following me.’ He must have overheard her talking about the form.
Jaggi glared at her. ‘You’ve been stirring up trouble since the day you got to Southall. You wanted to teach dirty stories to widows, fine. Why poke around in our lives as well?’ He looked around the flat. ‘I’m going to make this simple: all I want is the form. Give it to me and we’ll leave you alone.’
‘You think you can just break into my home—’
‘You let me in,’ Jaggi said, pointing at the door. ‘No signs of forced entry.’
‘I haven’t got the form,’ Nikki said. She noticed Tarampal shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her arms almost comically splayed across the door like she was guarding a goal post. She felt her courage building. ‘You can search the place if you want.’ She prayed he would not look under the bed first so she could buy some time.
‘I’m not searching the place. I want you to bring it to me,’ Jaggi said.
‘I don’t have it,’ Nikki said. From the corner of her eye, she could see the kettle filled with boiling hot water. If she inched her way closer to the counter without Jaggi noticing, she could grab it.
Jaggi took her by the arm and pushed her onto a chair. ‘Tarampal, come here and keep an eye on her,’ he said.
Tarampal obeyed, moving to stand over her. She crossed her arms over her chest but there was the beginning of fear in her eyes. Behind her, Jaggi could be heard tearing through the bedroom. ‘Just give him the form and he’ll go,’ Tarampal whispered. ‘You’re making things more difficult for yourself.’
‘Do you still believe he’s innocent?’ Nikki asked. ‘He got you to help him break into my flat. Now he’s searching for evidence to destroy.’
‘You don’t know him,’ Tarampal said. Nikki could hear Jaggi cursing now. For a supposedly “good son-in-law,” Jaggi certainly had no qualms about swearing in Tarampal’s presence. He had called her by her first name as well, a sign of familiarity that Nikki found jarring.
‘He’s not very respectful towards you, is he?’ Nikki asked. She could guess from the nervous way Tarampal kept casting glances towards the bedroom that she had never seen him like this. ‘I mean, as a son—’
‘I’ve told you, he’s not my son,’ Tarampal interjected.
‘I mean you’re his elder.’
Tarampal balked. ‘I’m only twelve years older than him.’
Could they be …? A fresh suspicion began to take root within Nikki. Then a crashing sound chased the thought away. A lamp had fallen. It was enough to distract Tarampal for a moment. Nikki shot out of the chair and pushed past Tarampal, who chased after her into the bedroom. ‘Get out of my flat!’ she shouted, hoping that somebody would hear her.