Chapter 13
SAMRAT
B efore I knew it, I was striding over to the VIP enclosure furiously. I didn’t know what it was I wanted to do. Was I hoping for some aha moment where I’d prove without a doubt that Meher had cheated on me with that man eight years ago? I already knew that, so why the hurry to get to her?
Maybe it was the way she shrank from his touch for a second before she drew herself up and said something.
Or maybe it was the way he reacted to whatever she’d said.
He clenched his fists at his sides, and the sight of that was enough to have me leaping over the last row of seats in the enclosure and coming to stand next to Meher.
Sanjay looked up in surprise because he clearly wasn’t expecting to see me. I placed my index finger on his chest and pushed hard until he backed away a few steps.
“Keep a respectful distance when you talk to my girl,” I growled, putting my other arm around Meher. I was surprised to find her shaking. What had this louse been saying to her?
“Tell your girl to keep a respectful tongue in her head then,” he spat.
“Samrat, why does the trash from Jhala keep blowing into our enclosure?” demanded Shivina, who was standing on Meher’s other side. “Is there a way to get them banned from the club for their behaviour?”
Sanjay immediately backed away, making a peace sign with his fingers, for that was a serious threat indeed.
“Easy, babe. There’s no need to get so serious. And you can’t have me banned from the club. My family has been coming here for years, unlike you.”
“Unlike you , asshole, I’ve been coming here since I was a baby. My great-grandfather was one of the founding members of this club. And if I put in a formal complaint about your behaviour, you’ll be banned for life before you can blink,” said Meher.
“My behaviour? That’s a bit rich coming from you, isn’t it?” he sneered.
I’d heard enough. I grabbed Sanjay by his lapels with one hand and pulled him up until his feet dangled in the air.
“I don’t like repeating myself, so listen up, you little bitch. When I say keep a respectful distance from my girl, I mean stay so far away that she can’t see the whites of your eyes or smell the stink of desperation wafting from you for miles. Get it?”
He gulped and nodded once, and I set him down gently and smoothed out his lapels before I gave him a little push towards the door.
“Now, go and enjoy the match before I’m tempted to rearrange your teeth,” I said softly, and he scurried out of the enclosure after one venomous glance at all of us.
As soon as he was out of sight, I turned to Meher and pulled her into my arms. She stiffened in shock for a few seconds before she melted into my embrace.
I told myself I was a fucking moron. Meher could take care of herself.
I didn’t need to play her Lord and Savior.
But I couldn’t forget how she had been shaking when I got here.
I didn’t know why, but she was truly frightened of Sanjay.
And I had to, I just had to hold her until she stopped shaking.
I also told myself that this was basic human compassion.
I’d hold anyone who was so frightened at the very sight of a man.
But I couldn’t deny the fact that there was something very different about holding Meher.
It felt like coming home. So I held on against my will, standing like a wall between Meher and the rest of the guests, glaring at anyone who thought they could come in and say hurtful things to her just because of one misstep in the past.
When people started walking into the enclosure, Meher moved away from me hastily and wiped the corners of her eyes with her fingers. I pulled out my snowy white handkerchief and handed it to her discreetly.
“I’ll get mascara on it,” she whispered.
“That’s okay. You can keep it,” I whispered back as we took our seats.
“It’s too big for my purse,” she said, holding up a little bun that was pretending to be a purse.
I sighed heavily and reached out to wipe under her eyes before putting the handkerchief back in my pocket. Meher’s lips wobbled slightly, and I frowned at her.
“Do not cry again,” I growled.
“Then stop being nice to me. I’m not used to it,” she said, with a glare.
“I’ve always been nice to you,” I said softly.
Her large caramel brown eyes caught mine and didn’t let go for a few fraught seconds.
“Yes,” she replied just as softly.
Then why wasn’t I good enough for you, I wanted to ask. But before I could speak, she drew back a little.
“Until the day that you suddenly stopped being nice. And cut me out of your life,” she said coldly.
“You need to pick, Meher,” I said sternly. “The scene that just took place…I don’t want to keep reliving the same situation over and over again. You need to pick between me and Sanjay. Now.”
She let out a loud snort that had people turning around to look at us.
“First of all, there is no choice to make. Nobody in their right mind would pick that creep for anything.”
But you did, I wanted to remind her. Eight years ago, you picked him over me.
“And secondly, Maj. Deora, ours is a purely business arrangement. My personal life has nothing to do with you.”
“You made a fool of me under my own roof once, princess. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Oh, trust me, nobody can make a fool out of you. You’re doing that all on your own,” she said with vicious sweetness, before she turned to cheer the players who rode onto the field.
Soon, it was halftime, and time for the spectators to go out onto the turf for divot stomping.
It was as much a practical idea to stomp the broken turf back into place as it was a way for spectators to socialise with each other.
As I watched Meher stomp carefully across the turf to where Isha and Diya sat in the Trikhera box, I remembered the way she’d stomp all the way to me to give me a quick kiss behind the stables during halftime.
Well, those days were long gone now. I made my way to the bar and greeted some old acquaintances warmly, wondering how many of these men had sold their souls to the devil.
There had to be an easier way to do this, I thought, frowning at the bottle of bourbon the bartender held up to me for approval.
“Stop scowling at the bourbon like it killed your puppy,” murmured Meher, sliding her arm into mine.
“I was just thinking about something,” I replied, rearranging my face.
She studied me quietly for a few seconds and then led me aside to an empty corner in the large wrap-around verandah of the club.
“Lay it on me,” she said quietly. “You helped me when Sanjay was messing with me. And I’d like to return the favour.”
“I don’t want to involve any civilians unless I have no choice, Meher.”
“Umm, in case you didn’t notice, you’re a civilian now, Retd. Maj. Deora,” she pointed out.
“It’s classified information, Meher. Need to know only. And everyone who knows about it is in danger of being hurt.”
“So don’t give me the details. Just tell me what’s worrying you,” she insisted.
I exhaled sharply and tried to find a way to phrase my problem as vaguely as possible because the one thing that hadn’t changed about Meher in eight years was her persistence.
“Fine. I need to find someone in our circle who’s suddenly come into a lot of money.”
“Is that all? My mother can tell you that. She can predict people’s worth down to the last penny.
And one of her favorite pastimes is wondering how certain people suddenly afford things that they never could before.
If someone who couldn’t afford a second car is suddenly flaunting a Rolex, my mother is the one person who would have noticed the change. ”
“Can you sound her out without making her suspicious?”
Meher’s face fell, and she shook her head.
“We’re currently not on speaking terms. You’ll have to sound her out yourself. Here she comes,” she said, walking away hurriedly.
I turned around to find her mother bearing down upon us. She looked sad as Meher fled without so much as a backward glance at her.
“She’s still mad at me,” Shalini Aunty mused.
“Why?” I asked politely, just to make small talk, but it backfired.
“Because of you,” replied Aunty mournfully.
“What did I do?” I asked in surprise.
“Actually, no. It’s because I failed her as a mother. I didn’t stand by her eight years ago, and I allowed her to be bullied out of society. Maybe if I had stood by her, my Meher would be happily settled today, and she’d be giving me real grandbabies instead of furry ones.”
I immediately wanted to know more about the furry grandbabies. Was Meher a dog person or a cat person? But right now, I had to pump Shalini Aunty for financial gossip. Meher’s pets could wait.
I made small talk about some of our common acquaintances for a bit, and then brought the talk around to one of the local landowners on whose land the army had busted a tunnel.
“Aunty, I’ve been seeing Divyajyot Sisodia driving around in a Lamborghini,” I said, with a little laugh. “When did that happen? Did he strike oil on his land or something?”
Shalini Aunty clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled softly.
“That’s exactly what I asked Shaurya, but he just rolled his eyes and said I’m being a snob.
That’s the trouble with these finance bros.
They don’t have any imagination. Every time I see one of these people who barely had money to pay their club memberships, suddenly showing up to Tambola night in diamonds, and flaunting their vomit-coloured Birkins at polo matches, I really wish I could have their accounts audited. ”
“Who are these people? Now, I’m really curious,” I said, with a laugh.
Meher was right. Her mother was a fount of information.
She named at least six people I had met today. I made a mental note of their names, and as soon as she got distracted by an old friend, I found an empty seat and noted the names down in a document on my phone. Meher slid into the seat next to mine, her warm, familiar scent washing over me.
“Found anything interesting?” she asked, and I nodded.
“Your mother is the mother lode of gossip. Thank you, Meher,” I said. “Badi meherbani.”
That was a phrase I’d often used to annoy her. Now, it just made her look sad, when I’d actually intended the opposite.
On an impulse, I took her hand.
“Would you like to meet my niece, Navya?” I asked, wondering if I was crossing a line here.
Meher finally stopped looking sad and smiled at me properly for the first time in eight years.
“I’d love that! How old is she?”
“She’s three, and she’s recently lost her father. You know Nilanjana. She’s not exactly the maternal type. I’m looking for a way to connect with Navya since I am, for all intents and purposes, her mother and father rolled into one. I’m all she’s got. And I’m not sure that’s good enough.”
Meher thought for a bit and then turned to me with a nervous smile.
“Why don’t you bring Navya to Matta for the weekend? I bet she’d love to meet my fur-babies.”