‘Nothing,’ Kulwinder sighed.
‘It’ll take time,’ Nikki said. ‘I know it’s hard to wait though.’
Jaggi was awaiting trial and that was all the information they had. She checked the paper habitually for updates, but with the passing of each day, she grappled with her disappointment. A part of her had hoped that he would be thrown straight into jail once Nikki had found the registration form among her belongings. Why did they need to ask him any more questions when the handwriting clearly matched? But the lawyers had explained something about due process of law and following procedures, which Kulwinder had to accept. At least she and Sarab had lawyers now – Gupta and Co., Solicitors, had come forward with an offer to fight Maya’s case for free. They assured Kulwinder that they had a good case, and they were confident about defeating Jaggi’s defence team when the time came. Kulwinder was full of gratitude but she kept thinking there was a catch to this whole no fee agreement even though Mr Gupta himself explained it was an act of community service. Nevertheless, once a week, she walked to his office on the Broadway and delivered a box of ladoos to the receptionist.
Nikki pulled up a chair. ‘This is a lovely office. Much bigger than the old one.’
Kulwinder looked around. ‘Thank you,’ she said with pride. She ran her fingers lightly over the smooth surface of her desk.
‘I came here with some exciting news,’ Nikki said.
‘Your sister is engaged,’ Kulwinder said.
‘No, not yet,’ Nikki said. ‘She’s seeing someone though.’
‘Oh. A nice boy?’
‘Yeah,’ Nikki said. ‘He’s quite nice. She’s happy around him.’
‘Good,’ Kulwinder said. She was mildly disappointed. It had been a long time since she’d attended a wedding in London. It would be nice to wear gold again. ‘What was your news then?’
Nikki took in a breath. ‘We’re being published.’
Kulwinder stared at her and said nothing. Nikki had to be joking. ‘The stories? Those ones?’ She pointed at the photocopied collection on her desk with its flimsy spiral binding that had begun to uncoil from use. There were other copies floating around Southall and beyond, but this was the original.
‘Those very ones – and possibly more. A company called Gemini Books wants to publish Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows!’ Nikki unzipped her bag and pulled out a thick stack of pages that she handed to Kulwinder. It was a publishing contract full of jargon and complicated sentences that Kulwinder did not understand but she made a show of arranging her glasses on her face and pointing to specific clauses as if she appreciated their inclusion.
‘What language will they be published in?’ Kulwinder asked.
‘They’re bilingual publishers and they’re willing to have both Gurmukhi and English script. I told them that there are plenty more stories being written and they’ve offered us the opportunity to keep on publishing with them in a series.’
‘This is wonderful news,’ Kulwinder said. ‘Will we be able to keep some copies here for people to borrow?’
‘I’m sure we can. They can also buy the books. The profits could go into funding the women’s centre.’
‘Oh, Nikki,’ Kulwinder said. ‘This is even better news than an engagement.’
Nikki laughed. ‘Glad to know it.’
‘Speaking of the women’s centre, have you given any more thought to my offer?’ A week ago, Kulwinder had called Nikki to ask her if she would teach a few classes. Nikki had seemed hesitant. Her shifting body language told Kulwinder that she was probably going to say no.
‘It’s a great opportunity,’ Nikki said. ‘But I’m afraid that with all of my study commitments this year and living so far away, I won’t be able to.’
‘Where are you living?’
‘Enfield,’ Nikki said.
‘With your mum?’
‘Temporarily,’ Nikki said. ‘I’ll probably share a flat with my friend Olive next year.’
‘You’ll need a job then,’ Kulwinder reminded her. ‘Rentals are expensive.’ Nikki probably thought she was desperate but nowadays there was no shortage of people wanting to teach in the women’s centre. Word had spread in the community and potential tutors called every day to inquire about vacancies.
‘The widows want you back,’ Kulwinder explained gently.
‘I miss them,’ Nikki said. ‘I’m keeping in touch with them. I saw Arvinder, Manjeet and Preetam in the langar hall just now. And Sheena and I are having coffee later.’
‘You could see them all the time. Sheena is going to teach the internet class. The others have enrolled.’
‘I need to focus on my studies for now,’ Nikki said. ‘Honestly, I’d love to otherwise.’
Kulwinder understood. All of those books in Nikki’s bag needed to be read and who knew how long that would take? Still, there were ways of reminding young people of their duties. Kulwinder winced and clutched at the fabric of her blouse in the middle of her chest.
‘What’s wrong?’ Nikki asked.
‘Oh me? Nothing,’ Kulwinder said. She kept her features stretched with pain for a moment before relaxing. It was working. Nikki looked worried.
‘Should I take you to a hospital?’ Nikki asked.
‘No, no,’ Kulwinder said. ‘It’s just my acid reflux condition. I get these pains. They get worse as I get older.’ Actually, the doctor had given her samples of a new medication that let her eat as much achar as she wanted – no consequent bloating or burping.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Nikki said.
‘There are days when I just need to be at home,’ Kulwinder said. ‘Not worrying about how to staff my classes.’
‘Have you got a class on Sundays?’ Nikki asked.
‘No, no, don’t trouble yourself. You are very busy with your studies.’
‘I could travel here on Sundays.’
Kulwinder knew the timetable by heart. No classes were allocated to Sundays because that day was usually dedicated to weddings and special prayer programmes at the temple. ‘We can’t pay you to run a Sunday class.’
‘So don’t. I’ll volunteer,’ Nikki said. ‘I’ll come in on Sundays to run an English writing class or a conversation workshop. People can drop in if they want.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that,’ Kulwinder said.
‘I’ll find the time,’ Nikki said. ‘I should be part of this place. You should be taking care of yourself.’
‘It’s just my stomach,’ Kulwinder said.
‘Yes, like my mother’s migraines,’ Nikki said wryly. ‘Triggered during arguments and then mysteriously cured when she wins.’