Читать книгу Secrets & Saris - Shoma Narayanan - Страница 10

THREE

It was all the fault of the stepladder she’d found tucked away in the storeroom, Shefali decided. The second she’d seen it she’d been reminded of all those paint ads in which glamorous models and actors transformed a room with a few strokes of a brush. Reality wasn’t quite so much fun. For one, the ads never showed the hours you needed to put in, first scraping the old paint off and then smoothing the walls with messy Plaster of Paris. Or that ceilings were unreachable even after she’d tied the brush onto the end of a broomstick.

She’d been at it for almost the entire day now, trying to transform her pistachio-green walls to a more cheerful pale yellow. So far she’d done exactly one third of one wall of the living room, having given up on the ceiling. In any case the ceiling was white—it didn’t matter if it looked slightly dingy. The colour on the walls would brighten everything up.

She was just dipping the brush into the paint when the door bell rang. Who could it be? She put the brush on its side and covered the paint tin exactly as they’d shown in the video on house painting she was using as her reference material. Then she pulled off the old dupatta she’d tied around her head and went to open the door.

Neil Mitra.

She felt the breath catch in her throat at the sight of him leaning against the door. The sun was setting somewhere in the distance and his brown hair glittered golden. While his face was in shadow, his eyes sparkled as he broke into a disarming smile.

Realising that she was still staring at him like a dork, Shefali cleared her throat. ‘Yes?’ she said, putting on her best dealing-with-irritating-parents expression—neutral, but completely in charge of the situation. It probably didn’t go very well with her paint-splattered T-shirt and jeans, but she could hardly run in to change.

‘Is this a bad time?’ Neil asked, his grin broadening as he peeked around her into the living room.

The furniture was swathed in the lace curtains that she was planning to get rid of anyway, and the stepladder stood perfectly aligned with the wall. OK, the room wasn’t exactly ready to be featured in a home décor magazine, but she couldn’t see what there was to grin about either.

‘It’s fine,’ Shefali said, not budging from the doorway. ‘If you’re not going to take too long?’

‘I won’t,’ Neil promised. He’d thought about this for a whole week before he’d decided to come and speak to her. ‘I just wanted to let you know—I’m not married.’

Right. Thrown off-balance more than a little, Shefali stared at him uncertainly. ‘You mean...Nina isn’t your daughter?’

‘She is.’ Neil gestured behind her. ‘Do you think I could come in? It’s a little weird, having to blurt out the story of my life on your doorstep. I’m a very shy guy, really.’

‘Really?’ Shefali said, but she stood aside to let him in. Her head in a bit of a whirl, she gestured towards the dining room. ‘We can sit here.’

Neil strode across the room, and Shefali took a minute to admire his athletic body from the rear.

‘I’m divorced,’ Neil said, as soon as he sat down, his blue-grey eyes looking up into hers.

Oh. For some reason that hadn’t occurred to her. She sat down opposite him, unconsciously smoothing her long T-shirt over her knees. ‘How long ago?’

‘Very soon after Nina was born.’

‘And Nina’s been with you ever since?’ Fathers very rarely got custody of the kids in a divorce battle, Shefali knew, and getting custody of a baby girl only a few months old had to be even more uncommon.

Neil shrugged. ‘Reema didn’t want her. We got married young, had a child early. She wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.’

Shefali stayed silent, not sure how to react. She was hugely relieved, of course, to learn that she hadn’t kissed a married man. For the entire week she’d been seeing herself as a home-wrecker who encouraged philandering husbands. But the fact that he wasn’t married also meant that he was available, and she didn’t want to think of him that way. This part of her plan to get over Pranav didn’t involve men. And especially not madly attractive men like Neil.

The madly attractive man in her dining room was now surveying his surroundings. ‘A bit grim, isn’t it?’ he asked, gesturing around at the bilious walls and the mildewed framed posters of kittens in baskets.

‘That’s why I’m repainting it,’ Shefali said drily. ‘To make it a little less grim.’

‘Have you ever done anything like this before?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve lived in my parents’ house till now. They’re not really the do-it-yourself type.’

‘I wouldn’t have put you down as the do-it-yourself type either,’ Neil remarked.

Shefali bristled immediately. ‘I’m not incapable!’ she said.

‘Not at all,’ he said smoothly, but Shefali got the impression that he was still laughing at her. ‘It’s just that every time I’ve seen you so far you’ve struck me as someone who doesn’t push her boundaries too much.’

Kissing a man she barely knew had definitely pushed her boundaries, and Shefali found herself resenting his remark.

‘Was that all, then?’ she asked. ‘You came to tell me you’re not married? I don’t mean to be rude, but I really do need to get on with my painting.’

‘I’ll help you,’ he said easily. ‘You’ve done most of the hard work anyway—it won’t take long to get the room done. And there are a couple of other things I want to talk to you about.’

Shefali gave him a cold nod.

‘Well, the first thing is that Nina’s taken quite a fancy to you.’ Neil said. ‘And she’s a little upset because she says you’ve been ignoring her. Apparently on the first day you spent quite a bit of time talking to her, but since then you’ve not spoken to her at all.’

Shefali felt her face heat up. She’d deliberately avoided Nina, feeling awkward about the whole thing with Neil. It had been unfair of her, but she hadn’t realised that Nina had noticed.

‘Look, I can understand why,’ Neil said. ‘The whole episode that night—I lost my head a little, and I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I can now understand why you probably don’t want to see me again, with your wedding having just been called off... But I don’t want Nina to be affected by something that’s totally my fault.’

He was making her sound like a neurotic on the rebound. Plastering an over-bright smile on her face, she said, ‘Of course not. Nina’s a lovely kid. I’m sorry if she thought I was ignoring her—it’s been a crazy week. I’m still settling in, and of course I was feeling a little awkward about...you know...’

Her voice trailed off, and he nodded understandingly. ‘I had no idea you were going to be working in the school, otherwise...’

This time, it was his turn to leave a sentence hanging, but Shefali knew what he meant. If he’d known she was going to turn up in his daughter’s school he wouldn’t have come within a mile of her.

‘So that’s settled, then,’ he was saying. ‘I promise to behave myself from now on, and you’ll treat Nina like any other student. I’m not asking for special attention—she can be a real brat sometimes.’

Remembering how she’d told him that she disliked some children, Shefali said quickly, ‘Oh, she’s a wonderful kid—very bright and enthusiastic, no trouble at all.’

‘Not obnoxious?’ he asked, his eyes laughing at her. ‘Like some adults?’

‘Not at all like some adults,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Listen, if you’re really planning to help with my room we need to get going.’ She wasn’t sure if she wanted him around, given the effect he had on her hormones, but help with her painting was help with her painting. Difficult to get and impossible to refuse.

‘I’ll help,’ he said. ‘But one last thing—will you be OK with doing a small appearance on my show?’

Whatever she’d expected him to ask, it wasn’t that.

‘Appear on your show doing what?’ she asked.

‘Well, you’re a bit of an oddity, you know,’ he said, walking into the living room and picking up the can of paint and a brush. ‘A girl from Delhi, coming to live in a small town—you could say what you think of the place, tell people what made you decide to come here and so on.’

‘I chose this town because nobody knows me here,’ Shefali said abruptly. ‘And because I wanted to get away from everyone I know in Delhi. That’s not going to sound good on national television, is it?’

‘Hmm,’ Neil said as he got on the stepladder and started to paint the top part of the wall with wide brushstrokes.

He was good, Shefali thought, admiring the way the muscles in his back rippled as he moved the brush back and forth.

‘What about a short piece on you doing a make-over on your flat? We can get some of the crew to help you, and it’d look good.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Shefali said. ‘I really don’t want people back home to know what’s happening in my life.’

‘Right,’ Neil said. ‘I guess that’s understandable. Can you pass me the roller, please?’

Shefali handed it to him, and then asked, ‘How come you’ve put Nina in school here if you’re only going to be around for a couple of months?’

‘That’s the good thing about your playschool—you have branches everywhere,’ he returned. ‘I’ve been transferring her from one branch to another for the last year. But I’m done with this kind of life now. In two months we’ll be back in Mumbai, and she’ll join regular school. I’ll shift to an assignment that doesn’t need me to travel.’

That made sense, Shefali thought as she picked up a brush and started work on the lower part of the wall. It was just that the responsible dad side of him was so incongruous with his rather Bohemian appearance.

‘How old are you, Neil?’ she asked, and he stopped painting to look down at her.

‘Twenty-eight,’ he said. ‘Why?’

‘It’s just that you seem too young to be the father of a four-year-old,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe you were older than you looked. But you’re not—you’re just a year older than I am. Most men your age are still out having fun, and you’re looking after a child...’

Neil shrugged. ‘Life doesn’t turn out according to one’s plans, does it?’ he said.

Unsure whether he might be making a dig at her own circumstances, Shefali continued painting in silence.

After a bit, he asked, ‘Tell me again—why aren’t you getting the painting done by someone else?’

‘Too expensive,’ Shefali retorted. At the disbelieving look he gave her, she said, ‘The school doesn’t pay me a fortune, you know.’

Neil frowned. ‘I would have sworn you were pretty well-off.’

‘My parents are. But I’m not really on talking terms with them any more. They weren’t OK with the idea of my leaving Delhi to come and live here. So I need to live within my means.’

He was still frowning. ‘Are you seriously saying you’re planning to spend the rest of your life here, managing the school?’

‘I haven’t started thinking about the rest of my life yet,’ Shefali said. ‘I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be Mrs Shefali Mehrotra. I was brought up to be a pampered trophy wife, and I don’t really know what I’m going to be now that Pranav Mehrotra’s out of the picture.’

‘Pranav is the guy you were going to marry?’ Neil asked, and then, almost in the same breath, ‘Pass me the smaller brush for the corners, please.’

Shefali nodded and passed him the brush. Clearly the story of her life wasn’t engrossing enough to capture Neil’s full attention.

He carefully finished doing the corner between the ceiling and the wall he’d just finished painting, and then got down from the stepladder.

‘Arranged marriage?’ he asked, picking up the ladder to move it in front of the next wall.

‘Yes,’ Shefali said. ‘Only in the end Pranav figured he’d rather be cut off from his parents and marry his ex-girlfriend than marry me and be heir to his family’s millions.’

‘Pretty courageous decision to take,’ Neil said thoughtfully.

Shefali looked at him, so indignant that she was at a complete loss for words. Whose side was he on?

Neil went on, ‘Why did that make you leave home, though? The break-up wasn’t your fault, and you couldn’t have been in love with the guy.’

Put like that, her decision to move did seem rather drastic. ‘He chose the day of the wedding to let me know,’ Shefali said tightly. ‘Everything was ready—I’d even changed into my wedding lehnga when his father called mine to say that Pranav had left Delhi with his ex. It was...’ She took a deep breath. ‘It was the most humiliating experience of my entire life. Most of the guests had arrived already, and we had to tell them all the wedding was off. My parents had spent a fortune on the arrangements, and that went to waste as well. It was worse afterwards—there were people sniggering and pointing fingers wherever I went. I couldn’t take it any more.’

‘What about your parents?’ Neil asked. ‘Weren’t they supportive?’

‘My parents were soon pushing me to marry another guy,’ she said. ‘One of Pranav’s friends—he proposed pretty soon after Pranav didn’t turn up for the wedding. It was ridiculous. One of my aunts actually suggested that we go ahead with the wedding, only with this other man as the groom.’

Neil winced. He could see now why she’d left, and while she might not appreciate being told so right now he thought she’d had a lucky escape.

‘So you wanted to get away from it all?’ he asked.

‘Sort of,’ Shefali muttered. ‘I was already working for the playschool in Delhi—the owner of the chain is a friend—and my Dad thought it a “suitable” job till I got married. So I asked my boss if I could have my old job back, and then it occurred to me that it might make more sense to move out of Delhi for a while. My parents went mental when they heard. They said it was like an admission of defeat, that I should get married as soon as I could and there were already people spreading rumours that the break-up was my fault. So I told them to stuff it and left.’

Neil smiled briefly. ‘Good decision.’ He hesitated a little. ‘Listen, if you need help on anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask me. I’m sorry I made fun of you about doing the painting yourself—I didn’t realise you were short of cash.’

Not wanting him to labour under a false impression, Shefali shook her head. ‘I’m not poor or anything—my grandma left me a heap of money when she died, and I’ve got that tucked away safely. It’s just that when all this happened I realised that I had to prove to myself at least that I could manage on my own. Even without my grandmother’s money. And, let’s face it, she would have left that to my brother rather than to me if she hadn’t had a massive quarrel with him.’

Embarrassed at having said so much, Shefali picked up her paintbrush and started slathering paint on the wall.

Neil went back up the stepladder, but after while he said softly, ‘You’re pretty amazing—you know that?’

Startled, Shefali almost dropped her brush as she turned to look at him.

He gave her a quick smile. ‘I mean it. I’m not the kind of person who hands out empty compliments.’

That she could believe—if anything, he erred on the side of brutal frankness.

‘Thanks,’ she said, and Neil grinned at her.

‘Let’s get the last wall done with and then I’m off,’ he said. ‘I need to pick Nina up from a friend’s house.’