Читать книгу The Ties That Bind - Praba Moodley - Страница 7

1990

“Do you need help with that? I have a free hand.”

The young woman, who could have been anywhere in her early to mid-thirties, swung her jet black hair carelessly over her shoulder as she stretched out her hand to take the umbrella from me. I could not help but notice the faint mark of an absent wedding band on her ring finger.

“I’m Rupa. I’ve seen you a few times and wanted to introduce myself but you always seem miles away.”

I looked at this stranger beside me. She seemed vaguely familiar and there was something I recognised in her eyes. It touched my already bitter thirty-year-old heart but I was not ready for anyone else’s pain. What made her think I wanted to chat? But a good upbringing always won when a hand of friendship was extended. My mother made sure we learnt our manners at an early age; moreover, I had no genuine friends at that time. I gave her what I thought was my best sociable half smile. “I’m Gayatri and I have never noticed you before.”

She returned my smile. “I live with my parents and my two angels. It’s a month now since I started working at the hospital. That is where I have seen you.”

Well, that was a surprise. I had been working at the hospital for the mentally challenged for eighteen months as secretary/personal assistant to the medical superintendent.

“What is it that you do exactly?” I enquired.

I’m the curious type. Most human beings like talking about themselves and I have a knack of getting them to do just that. I often find the ones who don’t have much, or have too much, to say are the fascinatingly duplicitous ones. I love to get into their heads and hearts and so naturally I hoped Rupa would tell me all about herself. I know the tongue does not always deliver what the mind and heart desire and it is one’s actions that reveal one’s true nature. I discovered this the heartbreaking way.

“I’m a lab technician, finally putting my training into practice.”

Was she going to flaunt her education in my face? Suddenly I felt the matric I held and the secretarial diploma I had completed were insignificant when compared with the qualifications of a laboratory technician.

“You have a very important and demanding job as the PA to the top brass at the hospital,” Rupa said, casting a look of admiration at me, something I had not expected.

I glowed at her observation and felt my cynical heart melting like a glacier sliding down a steep slope but fighting to reach the end unchanged. Rupa was going to make a marvellously interesting friend, I decided. I didn’t make friends easily for I believed that friendship was earned through loyalty, understanding and compassion. Harendra always complained that I came across as snobbish whenever he introduced me to new people. I gave up explaining to him that only when I felt comfortable with someone did I let them into my life. I was a keeper and I preferred to keep people who mattered, really mattered to me, close to my heart. I didn’t allow just anyone into my space or my life. I liked to keep my insecurities and issues private and deal with them personally. I only allowed people I trusted into my circle. But now I was ripe and ready for a new friend and her words were a balm to my somewhat troubled soul.

“It is a very demanding job,” I said, “especially when we get negative publicity and I am tasked to ensure that the correct message goes out to the media from my boss.”

I told no one that I drafted those messages for him and that he merely put his signature to them. I made him look good in the media and he made me look good to the rest of the staff.

I did not like the look of sympathy in Rupa’s lovely honey brown eyes. Did she see through my so-called “glamour” into the sad and lonely soul that lived in my well-groomed body?

Rupa and I got on to the same bus, which served as transportation to our place of employment. She struck me as another wounded warrior – recovering from the aftermath of what, I wondered? My fertile imagination was running into overdrive because I wanted to know everything about her. I learnt that she too had a knack of asking prying questions without seeming inquisitive. Our getting-to-know-each-other conversation revealed we had a couple of things in common. We both were single parents. She had two daughters a year apart and I had three sons. I had been traded in for a more lustful woman while she was evasive as to the whereabouts of the keeper of her heart. I let that go for the time being, sensing that her pain was still too raw. We had both moved in with our parents when we needed a place to lick our wounds and repair the damage to our hearts and lives. We allowed our parents to spoil our children while we cried angry, bitter tears and lacked the energy to cope with the young ones.

I felt as though I had met my soul mate for we bonded almost instantly. I was intrigued by the air of mystery surrounding her, especially those aspects of her life she didn’t speak of. Typically female, we checked each other out and I found her no threat whatsoever. I relaxed and breathed in deeply before making the first move.

“What time do you take lunch?” I asked tentatively for I most certainly did not want to appear to be desperate for company. We arranged to meet in the hospital cafeteria for lunch and I wished I could tell her how excited I felt. So far the only person I had allowed to befriend me was the hospital PRO. She was bubbly, bright and ultra-confident and reminded me of a ray of sunlight. I could not help but be drawn to her. She was Suhina, the youngest of our trio.

The morning raced by with just a couple of minor crises to deal with. My charming and debonair boss took me and my expertise for granted. Just before lunch I brushed my hair, redid my make-up and sprayed on Beautiful by Estée Lauder, a gift to myself for my birthday. One would have thought I was sprucing up for a lunch date with a hunky male (as if I could be so lucky!). I was in a dry spell after my divorce. I needed a lot of time for my broken heart to heal and I was not going to let just any man into it again.

I was assaulted by a mélange of cooking aromas as I strolled calmly and confidently into the cafeteria. I rarely went there, preferring to eat a home-made sandwich or salad at my desk as a way of keeping to a healthy diet and also saving every penny I could. Lunch breaks were staggered at the hospital and I knew they were the meeting ground for most members of staff who became friends. If I was to believe the gossipmongers, this was where romance blossomed and also where torrid affairs eventually waned when passion faded and the true personality of the lover was revealed. Heads turned as I walked into the cafeteria leaving behind a mild trail of Beautiful. I was looking around trying to spot my new gal pal when I saw a familiar hand waving at me.

Suhina had seen me enter the cafeteria. Should I tell her I was meeting someone? It was then that I saw that she already had a companion and how light-skinned she was compared with Suhina and me. It was strange how I had noticed Rupa’s eyes before I had taken in the colour of her skin. I felt an immediate sense of betrayal and jealousy at the easy camaraderie between the two of them. They knew each other, apparently well, it seemed. How come I had missed this?

Suhina rose and pulled back a chair for me. “Hi Gaya … meet Rupa,” she gushed through the introduction. “She was at school with my older brother. I was delighted when she joined the hospital staff.”

I wondered if Suhina felt a little guilty about keeping this relationship to herself because whenever she was nervous or excited she spoke too much and her hands flew around. Su was exceptionally expressive and could hold her audience spellbound. She was one of those people who could leave you exhausted just listening to her, but I really enjoyed her company. She had an amazing knack of lifting my spirits and nothing and no one fazed her. Now, as I took in her sparkling eyes and her infectious grin I realised I was perhaps being silly in my assumption. Suhina was too good-hearted and innocent to be devious.

“We’ve met,” I grinned back and took pleasure in seeing Suhina’s dark, sultry eyes grow large with disbelief.

“How, when? Why did you not say anything to me before?”

“We met this morning at the bus station,” Rupa filled in quickly. “I did not realise you two knew each other so well. This is fantastic!”

Out of this enthusiasm the trio was born. We were to share hopes, dreams, pleasures and sorrows, and we would become bound together by a dark secret.

Were we destined to be friends? I wondered.

I watched in fascination as Suhina devoured her piece of chocolate cake with gusto. She never broke out in pimples, no matter what she ate. She was blessed with marvellous skin the colour of unpeeled almonds, and she was voluptuous, with curves in all the right places. She had large dark eyes framed by to-die-for eyelashes (yes, I am envious of Suhina and her lashes!) and with her mass of naturally curly hair she reminded me of an expensive but adorable poodle. She was lovable and adventurous and she was totally in love. The only one who seemed to have it all … at least it appeared so on the surface – and I do know that surface appearances are often deceptive.

Suhina was in love, deliriously, madly, wholeheartedly in love. I could not help but envy her happiness and yearned for a little to be sprinkled on me. But sometimes I worried how it would turn out. When she was seventeen she fell in love with a young Muslim boy. Being of the Hindu faith, her parents had instilled in her that a relationship outside her religion would not be tolerated. With much heartbreak and tears, circumstances forced them to say their goodbyes just before her eighteenth birthday. They had wept tears of despair as they clung to each other. Akhil’s parents had arranged for him to be married to his third cousin and Suhina told me that he had no choice in the matter.

“What do you mean, no choice?” I gasped when she shared her romantic but heartbreaking tale with me. “Everyone has a choice.”

“You don’t understand, Gaya.” (She was the only one I knew who could make my name sound so exotic in that husky voice of hers.) “We were so young. We wanted to run away, lead our own lives, when suddenly his father had a fatal heart attack and the dynamics changed. His family relied on him for everything. We dared not elope. It would have devastated his family and how could we find happiness with all the guilt? We gave each other our virginities and we broke each other’s hearts. I could never hate him for what we shared was magical and what he did was honourable. But no man will ever replace him in my heart.”

I was truly amazed that Suhina had no bitterness towards Akhil: she had only love and admiration for the holder of her heart. Here was someone brave in her love to give the one thing we were taught to hold on to for our husbands: our virginity. Yet she willingly gave it up as a declaration of her love. Well, I had held on to mine like a good Indian girl and presented myself so proudly to Harendra on our wedding night – and look where that got me! I ached for some of her goodness to rub off on me but my bitter, broken heart was not going to allow that just yet. Suhina threw herself into her studies and when Akhil married she said she got very drunk, cried herself to sleep and woke with an awful hangover.

The years had slipped past and the girl became a woman, although the intense pain of her loss did not lessen. Suhina graduated with a diploma in public relations, took the first job she was offered and worked her way up. She housed her sexy body in feminine dresses and strappy sandals for work, alternating with seriously high stilettos and power suits when the mood took her, and she lounged in jeans and T-shirts at weekends. She bought herself a small 3 Series BMW and a single bedroom flat.

I soon learnt that Suhina was subtle in her defiance and anger towards her parents. I thought of it as passive-aggressive behaviour for each time they approached her with a marriage proposal she politely but respectfully declined. Suhina moved out on her own when her youngest brother got married. Her parents were aghast at how liberated their baby girl had become. She told me they were mortified, instead of being proud, that she had her own property, for Indian girls remain with their parents until they marry. Thereafter, they move in with their in-laws or into their own homes with their husbands. Never alone, though, for that was scandalous, the girl’s reputation would be ruined and no one would want to marry her. We were even expected to return to our family nest should the marriage dissolve, and naturally we did.

“What will people say?” her mother wailed repeatedly. “We will not be getting any more marriage proposals if you live like this.”

But Suhina refused to budge, quietly assertive when it came to her parents. I wondered if she was doing this to punish them for not giving her their blessing when she wanted to marry Akhil.

Then suddenly, out of the blue, the universe declared a different future for Akhil and Suhina.

It was one of those days that will live in my mind and heart for ever.

Suhina flew into my office and slammed the door behind her.

“Gaya, you will never believe this! Oh my God!” She was gasping, a hand over her heart, and I thought she was going to collapse. I feared she had had bad news – had one of her parents passed on?

As calmly as I could I led her to my couch (yes, I have one in my office) and handed her a glass of water. Between gulps of water the tears flowed and she sobbed loudly. I had never seen her so distraught and I reached out to her, pulling her into my arms. Although there was always a hint of sorrow in her eyes, she managed to remain vivacious, always with ready answers and a smile on her lips. I felt her soft curves against my lean body as she clung to me and my heart ached for the pain in her voice. Eventually she stopped weeping and when she could finally speak her words came out haltingly.

“I saw him, saw … him after all these years, Gaya, and I thought … I thought my heart was going to jump right out of my chest and … land at his feet.” She covered her face once again.

I was relieved that no one dear to her had passed on, but she did not need to tell me who she was speaking of. It was the love of her life. Suhina had confided in me that she had never dated nor slept with another man. It was as though her soul and body were waiting for Akhil to return to her.

I believed her. She was the epitome of the tragic heroine.

“Where? How?” I asked. This was a mental institution. Was he a patient? Heaven forbid!

“In the car park, just a few minutes ago. It was so unexpected and we both got such a shock. Our eyes met and I saw his widen and his mouth dropped open but before we could utter each other’s name I ran away, to you.”

Suhina wiped away a fresh bout of tears. “My whole system went into shock. I didn’t know what to do. He looked so bloody marvellous … I tell you.” Under stress Suhina could be very British in her speech, no doubt due to our English teachers.

“Well, at least we won’t be admitting him.” I tried to make light of the matter but my heart broke for her. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t bloody well know.” Suhina hiccupped and looked at me, her large eyes now rimmed with red. “I ran away, remember!”

“Lie down,” I said and I placed wet tissues over her swollen eyelids, hoping my suave boss would not stroll through the door. “We cannot have you looking like Miss Piggy if he is so bloody marvellous looking, can we?”

A giggle escaped her and I felt better. I thought the sight of “bloody marvellous”-looking Akhil might have destroyed her but she was made of stronger stuff. “I’ll phone my contacts to see if they know anything.” I, too, was curious to know why he was there. One look from this man and Suhina was marshmallow.

In my most authoritative voice I asked for a list of new admissions to be faxed to me immediately. I phoned the resident psychiatrist’s secretary and asked her if an appointment had been made for Akhil. She said she would get back to me.

I did not even sneak a peek as I handed the fax of new admissions to Suhina. She peeled back the damp tissues and scrutinised the list. She gasped. “It’s his wife! My God! I hate her …”

I snatched the list from her and, sure as the sun rises in the east, there were her personal details.

“I wonder what happened to her, poor thing …” Suhina murmured with a change of heart as she replaced the tissues over her eyelids once again.

Was her sympathy genuine now when just moment ago she had declared that she hated her? I decided to ignore her fluctuating emotions. At this point the poor girl did not know whether she was coming or going. I became proactive and phoned for more details. Akhil’s wife had definitely been admitted for psychiatric treatment. She had slit her wrists twice and was extremely depressed. She had initially been admitted to a private hospital, but her personal doctor had referred her to our highly skilled psychiatrist for an assessment and to recommend treatment. She had been admitted to a private ward with her own nurse. It was obvious Akhil came from a wealthy family and he was taking no chances with his wife’s health. A nurse was to be at her side at all times.

“What would make her do something like that?” Suhina sat up and removed the tissues from her eyes. “If I was married to him the last thing I would want to do is slit my wrists.” She began shredding the tissues as tears welled up again.

Were they for Mrs Akhil or for herself? Personally, I felt a twinge of pity for Akhil’s wife. She must have been in a terrible state to have attempted to kill herself, but there was not much pity could do once the deed was done and at that moment my concern was for Suhina. In a matter of minutes her whole world seemed to have turned upside down and I most certainly did not want her to slit her wrists.

“What am I to do?” she looked at me with soulful eyes. I was not the best person to dish out advice for I still carried a heart full of acrimony when it came to the opposite sex or to the other woman.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, remembering the line from my therapy days.

“Run into his arms, hide from him … I don’t know … I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands once again.

“Is there a need for you to do anything?” I asked, pushing her to dig deep within so she would search her heart and arrive at an answer on her own.

“I have never loved or wanted any other man since I let Akhil go,” she whispered. “No one stirs me as he does. He touches my soul. I still yearn for him and seeing him today made me realise I could never love anyone else. How have I survived all these years? I want him.”

I knew that. It was obvious. But if she went after what she wanted I predicted heartache for her. Suhina made an attempt to pull herself together but I could not fail to see how her hands trembled as she ran them anxiously through her hair.

“I must be going,” she said finally, “or my dragon of a boss will be breathing fire.”

That was a year ago. Today, there was a sparkling rock on her ring finger.

“Is there cause for celebration?” I took pleasure in seeing Suhina blush.

“I hope so. Akhil has proposed. I’ve accepted.”

Gasps of delight, congratulations, hugs and kisses were exchanged. It was certainly a memorable day: I had met Rupa, discovered that Suhina had met her before I did, and Suhina had a ring on her finger and, yes, I could confirm that Akhil was bloody marvellous looking. I had the opportunity of meeting him when Suhina finally gave in to her heart and decided she would take what had been denied her for so long. She had insisted I join them for supper; after all she needed to introduce him to someone and who else but me, her closest friend who she knew would not judge her.

I was really interested in the man. Would he be everything Suhina said he was? He ran his own import and export business but I was not interested in what he imported or exported. I was more interested in whether he could make my friend happy for I knew that he owned her heart.

Akhil wore his wealth with casual ease and a sense of pride without seeming arrogant. He drove a white Mercedes Benz, sported a Rolex on his left wrist and seemed comfortable in his Pierre Cardin suits. Now, in my “after Harendra” phase, I preferred a man to be rather more rugged, but there was something about Akhil’s polish that made me nostalgic and he reminded me of Harendra. He was of average height but he was slim and so he appeared taller. His dark hair was cut short and close to his skull. His beard was neatly styled and trimmed and when he leant over to kiss me on the cheek I caught a faint hint of his aftershave and almost swooned. Who could blame me? It had been a while since I had been kissed by a man. His dark eyes twinkled merrily as he drew back. I think he relished the effect he had on women and I wanted to pull Suhina aside immediately and warn her to be careful. He was too glamorous, too sophisticated and worldly but she radiated happiness as she slid her hand into his.

They looked so perfect together that I almost forgot there was a Mrs Akhil lurking in the background. I decided to have a word with him in private. If he dared to break Suhina’s heart I would personally rip his out. Akhil had pulled a chair out for me like a perfect gentleman.

“You have to tell me all about your fiancé,” Rupa’s voice brought me back to the present. Of course she would be curious, but for an instant I wanted to be the only privileged one who shared Suhina’s world.

“I’d love to,” Suhina blushed. “Perhaps, ladies, you would like to get together this weekend at my place and I’ll tell you all about it.”

And that was how Rupa joined the duo and made it a trio.