‘There is. I deceived you into thinking I was teaching those women to read and write. I’m very sorry.’
Kulwinder hesitated. Although she hadn’t called Nikki looking for an apology, it was nice to hear. ‘Hanh, yes, yes, but it’s all water under the tables now,’ she said, pleased to have remembered an English idiom.
‘That’s very generous of you,’ Nikki said.
‘It’s true. If you had stuck to teaching the women to write, they wouldn’t have made up those stories.’ What a loss it would be, Kulwinder thought, wishing she had some way of conveying this to the photocopier boy. ‘I’ve read a few,’ she added.
‘And what did you think?’ Kulwinder could hear the anxiety in Nikki’s voice.
‘I rescued you from a burning building,’ Kulwinder said. ‘I liked them that much.’
Nikki had Maya’s unfettered laugh. Don’t show your teeth, Kulwinder would snap at her teenaged daughter. Men will think you’re inviting them to have fun. She had inherited the warning from her own mother. Now she laughed along with Nikki and hearing their notes of joy ringing out in unison brought on a wonderful relief.
‘I want the stories to be shared with the community,’ Kulwinder said. ‘Not just the widows who know about the classes.’
‘I do too.’
‘I tried getting copies made here in Southall but the boy at the counter refused to fill the order for me. Is there a photocopying place near you? I will pay for it. We can get them bound as well. Perhaps we could find someone to design a cover.’
‘You’re sure you want to do this? It could lead to more trouble,’ Nikki said. Kulwinder was both surprised and touched by the caution in her voice.
‘I’m sure,’ she said.
Kulwinder returned home, still hugging the folder to her chest. Dinesh was no longer in the garden and the mailbox had been uprooted and gently laid on its side on the lawn. ‘Where will the postman put our letters?’ she asked Sarab.
‘It’s only for a day. Dinesh is coming back tomorrow.’ Sarab eyed the folder. ‘And what were you doing with those?’
‘You’ll see,’ Kulwinder said. From the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker from Tarampal’s house again.
‘Is somebody there?’ she asked Sarab, nodding toward the house. ‘I keep seeing something.’
‘There were detectives investigating earlier. That’s probably who you saw.’
But the person in the window had moved about surreptitiously, as if knowing it was a fleeting vision. Kulwinder did not believe in ghosts but she briefly wondered if there was a spirit floating about in that home, wanting to be freed.
‘Things are changing,’ she had said last night at dinner. Sarab nodded. He thought she was referring to the seasons. Kulwinder didn’t clarify. It was becoming warmer. Daylight would soon stretch to nine o’clock and in the early evenings children could already be heard running down the street. When their mothers called them in, she heard herself pleading with them for more time. Outside, the whole world beckoned with intoxicating thrills. In five more minutes, they could reach the end of the street and see the buses heading towards Hammersmith, the trains departing for Paddington station. They could return to their homes but in their minds, plot the routes that might one day take them through this vast, magnificent city. She put the folder on the coffee table and headed out the door.
‘Where are you going now?’ Sarab called but Kulwinder didn’t answer. She crossed the road and walked up Tarampal’s driveway. The sun had come out and washed the white houses in a brief but generous light. Kulwinder peered into the window. She was aware of the neighbours’ gazes; she could practically hear them whispering, asking each other what she was looking at.
Through the narrow slit between the curtains, Kulwinder could only see the entryway and the staircase. The vision in the window had been a trick – the sun emerging and disappearing with uncertainty, not quite knowing its rightful position in this time between seasons. A sensation of relief fanned across Kulwinder’s body like a fever was breaking. She kissed her fingertips and then pressed them to the window.
It was finally time to let Maya go.
Chapter Twenty
In the evening, a bubbly after-work crowd filled the tube and tumbled out with Nikki. Mindi was waiting at the station wearing a black dress with a glittering neckline that formed a suggestive V-shape above her bust. ‘Nice outfit,’ Nikki said.
‘Thanks. I think it’s going to happen soon,’ Mindi said.
‘What’s going to happen?’
Mindi leaned towards her and whispered. ‘Sex.’
‘You guys haven’t slept together yet?’
‘I was waiting till everybody approved of him.’
‘So if I say yes, you’ll do it in the ladies while I order the entrees?’
‘Don’t be so crude,’ Mindi scolded.
‘Do you not find him attractive, Mindi?’
‘I do, but I don’t want to sleep with someone I’m not going to marry. And if you see a red flag that I’ve missed, well, I might think twice about getting engaged to him.’
‘You don’t need me to say yes. I thought I already told you that,’ Nikki said. ‘You don’t need anyone’s approval.’
‘But I want it,’ Mindi argued. ‘You still don’t get it, Nikki. This whole arranged marriage thing is about choices. I know you see it as the opposite of that but you’re wrong. I am making my own decision but I want to include my family in that decision as well.’
Mindi waved at a man in the distance. Nikki could only see a crowd of German backpackers, and then amongst them emerged a scrawny man that she recognized. ‘Oh my god, I remember him,’ Nikki said. She turned to Mindi. ‘He found your profile on the marriage board, didn’t he?’
‘How do you know?’
‘I met him when I was putting up your profile. He was – oh hello!’ Nikki said.
‘Hi,’ Ranjit said, with a surprised, nervous laugh. ‘You’re Mindi’s sister.’
‘Nikki. We’ve met.’
Mindi looked back and forth between them. ‘If you two met while Nikki was putting up my profile, does that mean you were the first man to see my profile?’ Her eyes brimmed with adoration.
‘You guys go ahead,’ Nikki said when they reached the restaurant. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ She waited for Mindi and Ranjit to disappear inside and then she lit a cigarette. The pavement glistened with rain and people trotted past, their conversation and laughter mingling with the sounds of traffic. Nikki felt for her phone and then she drew her hand away. Don’t even think about calling him, she scolded herself. She only finished half the cigarette before stubbing it out and going into the restaurant.
At the table, the waiter asked for their drink orders. ‘Shall we share a bottle of wine?’ Nikki asked.
Mindi shot a glance at Ranjit. ‘I won’t have any wine, thanks,’ she said.
‘Ranjit?’ Nikki asked.
‘I don’t drink,’ he said.
‘Oh. Right. I guess I’ll have the whole bottle to myself then.’ The waiter was the only one who broke into a smile. ‘It’s a joke, guys,’ Nikki said. ‘Just some sparkling water for me, thanks.’