Chapter 5
KABIR
He sat alone in his room, a half empty glass of scotch on his bedside table and his old, trusty guitar, the one his dad had given him at the age of fifteen on his lap. He strummed a note, his gaze on the blank wall in front of him, the darkness of his room blanketing him in its desolation.
Sound floated up to him from the open window.
The others had gathered by the pool, uncles, aunts, cousins…
everyone was bunking down at his father’s farmhouse tonight.
Over the years, his parents had expanded both the main house and the quarters for the children who came to stay as part of their NGO, the end result being that there was plenty of room for everyone.
Since it wasn’t summer break, the NGO kids were not in residence and the entire younger generation was sleeping in their quarters.
Citing jet lag, Kabir had retreated to his old room in the main house.
The minute he’d stepped into it, it felt like he’d walked into a time warp.
His parents hadn’t changed anything in the room, in the fifteen years he’d been travelling the world and living elsewhere.
The same old posters, of all his rock gods, hung on the walls, his guitar still rested gently on its shelf, and some of his clothes still hung in his cupboard, freshly washed and pressed.
His parents had been busy, he thought, eyes stinging a little at the sight of all the love they surrounded him with, in the quiet and in the noise.
Walking into this room was like wrapping himself in a security blanket of their love and support.
More laughter and screaming ensued from the poolside. He smiled softly to himself, closing his eyes and listening to their happiness. Everyone he loved was here tonight, under the same patch of sky as him, and for now that would be enough.
He heard Advik shout something and Maya Maasi chide him gently. And then he heard a bloodcurdling yell that could have only come from Rehan before a loud splash that had several people screeching in outrage.
The smells of the barbecue they had going drifted up to him making his mouth water and his stomach growl. But he stayed where he was. It was better this way. He was here for them, but he’d stay away for himself.
His hand clenched around the guitar, the cut in his palm opening up with the movement. A drop of blood stained the bandage his mother had wrapped around it. He stared at it, his heart cramping in his chest.
“This is the most magical place in the whole world.” Tanisha stared at the fat grapes dangling from the vines of Il Cuore.
“Is it?” Kabir smiled, all of nineteen and on the cusp of taking the world of music by storm. “You’re only nine, Bug. You’ll probably change your mind about that as you actually see the rest of the world.”
“I am not a bug,” Tani wrinkled her tiny nose at him. “And I know what I want. I won’t change my mind.”
“And what do you want, Tan Tan?” he asked, swinging the tiny hand he was holding and being mindful not to call her Bug again.
She came to a halt on the lawn outside the bungalow. “I am going to get married here one day.”
“Are you?” Kabir grinned, trying not to laugh at her serious face.
“I know two things.”
“Just two?” he teased.
“Yes. I will get married at Il Cuore. And,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “I will marry you.”
A knock on his door startled him out of the memory, his heart turning over in his chest. His mother had probably brought him a plate of food. He knew he hadn’t fooled her with his ‘jet lag’ excuse. But when the door opened, the person standing there with a plate of food wasn’t his mother.
Tanisha shut the door behind her, sauntering into the room, her soft, breezy sarong fluttering around her slim body, her still wet swimsuit leaving damp patches on it.
Her hair lay wet and tangled around her tiny face.
The moonlight filtering in from the window gilded her, an angel framed in darkness.
His hand clenched around his guitar, a reflexive need for support from the one thing that had never let him down.
Neither of them said a word. As always, with them, words were superfluous.
Tani put the plate loaded with kebabs and one lopsided hot dog on his bedside table and held out a hand to him, palm up. For a second, he contemplated pretending not to know what she wanted but the steely glare she fixed on him had him reconsidering.
He placed his bandaged hand in her open one.
Tani unwound the bandage even as she rummaged through his bedside drawer for the first aid kit his mother always stashed in every room.
He watched her down bent head as she worked quietly and quickly to clean out the fresh blood, apply more antiseptic and wrap it up again.
When she was done, he waited for her to let go of his hand but she didn’t, instead her fingers curled gently around his callused ones.
“Thank you.” His words were a hoarse whisper.
“I never did thank you for that night in New York,” she said, her gaze still on their joined hands.
“You don’t need to thank me, Tani,” he murmured, his voice low and deep.
“But you need to thank me?” She looked up now, her beautiful honey coloured eyes meeting his. “Is that what we’ve come to, Kabs? This?”
He withdrew his hand from hers, feeling the loss of her touch in every last inch of his shadowed soul.
“You’re getting married at Il Cuore,” he said, attempting to change the subject and remind her of all that stood between them. “You got one of your two things.”
Her face tightened as if he’d slapped her. “I did,” she agreed. “Aren’t I lucky?”
She put the first aid kit back in its place before standing and walking to the door, not looking back at him. His eyes followed her like a ship caught in a storm would follow the beam of a lighthouse. She was almost to the door when he spoke.
“Are you happy, Bug?”
She stiffened, her hand on the doorknob, fingers clenched around it. Then she glanced over her shoulder at him, deep pools of pain shadowing her eyes.
“Are you happy, Kabs?”
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” he murmured, his throat clogged with emotion he dare not let loose.
She smiled sadly. “Then how can I not be happy?”
She opened the door, allowing the light of the corridor to stream through, her lean frame silhouetted against it.
“Kabs?” Her voice was soft but steely.
“Hmm?” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
“I know two things,” she said, her words a painful echo of the past.
Kabir swallowed hard before asking, huskily, “Just two?”
“I will get married at Il Cuore. And,” she continued, “You’re the biggest fucking coward I’ve ever known.”