Chapter 5
Kalpana really wanted a break. So far they’d seen three hotels of varying opulence, which had excellent wedding packages, but both she and Marcus had agreed that they didn’t have the right vibe.
Thankfully, Sampath hadn’t seemed in the least bit annoyed by this and had only said, ‘I think we can cross the “grand ballroom” type of vision off the list. That’s good, because I think more outdoors like a beach, or something a little bohemian and fun would suit you better for the wedding. ’
He had brought them to a place called Park Street Mews.
It was a series of old warehouses that had been converted into restaurants, shops and bars, all based around one street.
Lights strung between buildings made it feel as though the street was one coherent space, despite the huge variety of decor and street art around it.
Right now, in the middle of the day, it was sun drenched and relatively quiet.
A family with a couple of kids sat under a canopy eating ice cream.
The smell of frying onion and garlic wafted across from one of the restaurant kitchens.
Somewhere, someone was testing a sound system with a guitar.
The wedding venue was a massive warehouse with a striking black-and-white checked floor. The woman showing them around was explaining how the site was a blank canvas that could be decorated to just about any theme.
‘I was thinking, you could do a bookish theme,’ Sampath said. He seemed really excited by the idea, Kalpana noticed.
He waved an arm to indicate the size of the space. ‘Something light and colourful which pays homage to imagination and creativity through books.’
She had to admit that sounded like fun. Looking up at the roof, which was currently half covered with swathes of cloth that had been used for the last event there, she tried to picture it.
‘Light and colourful is Kalpana’s vibe,’ Marcus said, with a little laugh. ‘I’m more on the literary side of things.’
‘We could put lines of books up rather than bunting,’ the woman suggested.
Kalpana could see it: lines of books stretching up towards the corners of the room.
‘The books would look like they’re flying,’ she murmured.
‘We could see if we can get a book stall or something …’ Sampath mused. ‘Maybe see if one of the second-hand-bookshop guys will set up a temporary stall in here.’
‘We could mock up a shopfront,’ the organiser said. ‘Call it “Marcus and Kalpana’s bookshop” and people could pick books from inside. I can run up a quote for you.’
Marcus nodded. ‘Yes. Yes. This sort of thing would look amazing. It would photograph really well.’
Kalpana looked around the space. She could imagine this hangar decorated like that. Books and little lights threaded through the space above, white tablecloths below, punctuation mark-themed designs on the place cards … That did sound fun.
So why wasn’t she excited?
***
When Sampath suggested they head back so that Marcus could get to his appointment with his friend, she was more than happy to agree.
Right now, even wearing a light cotton dress with a hat and sunglasses, she was feeling wrung out by the heat. As they walked down the mews, the heat wrapped around them like a hot, wet flannel.
She glanced at Marcus, who was looking a little red in the face and sweating on his forehead. Sampath, who was dressed in green trousers and a white shirt with tiny red and yellow flowers on it, managed to look unbothered by the heat. She wondered what miracle anti-perspirant he used.
Sampath had called Lal, who was coming to pick them up in the van. The pickup point had no shelter and the sun was relentless. Sampath reached into his backpack and pulled out a folding umbrella. He opened it and passed it to her. ‘Here. It’ll keep the sun off you.’
She took it and felt immediate relief from the burning heat. Marcus edged closer and took the umbrella from her. With his arm around her, he held it so that it sheltered them both.
‘Thank you,’ she said to Sampath. ‘It’s such a good idea to have a parasol.’
‘I don’t remember much from living here,’ he said. ‘But I remember “always take an umbrella”.’
Right now, he was standing in the full sun. He was wearing a wide brimmed hat and sunglasses and judging by the sheen on his skin, a good amount of sunblock.
‘What about you?’ she said. ‘I feel bad taking your umbrella from you.’
He waved a hand dismissively. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He smiled and turned away. ‘Where is Lal?’
As they were all standing together, scanning the road for the familiar van, a couple of boys ran up. They held strings of sachets of something.
‘You buy,’ said one of the boys. ‘Very cheap. Very good.’
Marcus subtly tightened his arm around her.
Sampath clicked his tongue at them and said something in Sinhala. The older boy answered back. It seemed like Sampath had told them to go away, the whine in the boy’s voice said they weren’t going to.
‘What are they selling?’ Kalpana asked.
Another short exchange. ‘Camphor, I think,’ said Sampath.
‘For keeping moths away from clothes.’ He eyed the boys sceptically.
‘I don’t know how you’d fake camphor, but I wouldn’t put it past this one.
’ The corner of his mouth rose in a smile, as though he was amused by the thought, rather than annoyed.
The boy was still talking.
‘What else did he say?’ Kalpana asked.
‘He said you’re very beautiful,’ said Sampath, laughter in his voice. ‘See, I told you he was good.’
‘You should ignore them,’ Marcus said. ‘Now that you’ve spoken to them, they won’t leave until you give them some money.’
‘How much do they want?’
Sampath told her.
She did the mental calculation to work out how much that was in pounds. Hardly anything. She took out her handbag. ‘I’ll take five sachets.’
‘Kalpana. Don’t encourage them,’ Marcus said. ‘Once they see you’re a soft touch, you’ll never get any peace.’
‘Marcus, it’s less than a pound. It means more to them than it does to me.’ She found the right coins in her purse. ‘Here.’
The boy thanked her with the most brilliant smile and put five sachets into her hand. ‘Thank you, madam. Thank you.’
His friend looked put out. Sampath tapped him on the shoulder and bought a couple of sachets off him too. Then he said something else. The boy nodded vigorously. The children then headed off in opposite directions.
‘What did you tell him?’ Kalpana asked.
‘I said I’d buy three more off him if he and his brother keep other kids from trying to sell us stuff.’
Thankfully, the van pulled up within minutes.
Kalpana dove in. The air conditioning in the van sent cool tendrils of relief around her. Lal kept bottled water in a cooler inside, she opened one and took a long drink.
The boys reappeared. Sampath bought a few more sachets from the younger boy before swinging himself into the front seat.
‘Honestly,’ Marcus said. ‘You need to learn to ignore these beggars.’
‘They weren’t begging, they were selling things,’ Kalpana said.
‘Useless nonsense things. It’s as good as begging.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, you don’t need camphor. Are you going to pack that into your suitcase, really? It’ll make everything reek.’
‘I probably won’t,’ she admitted. Because yes, it would reek. Moths weren’t really an issue while on holiday.
‘So you just wasted your money and encouraged this practice of annoying the tourists.’ Marcus shook his head. ‘Honestly, sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.’
Sampath peered back from his place in the passenger seat.
Kalpana put the bottle away and dabbed at her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Marcus, it’s a quid. It means almost nothing to me. Probably means a lot to those kids.’ When she looked up, she noticed that Sampath was looking at her with a serious expression on his face.
Marcus was still shaking his head. ‘Babe, you’re too kind. These people will take advantage of it.’
She patted his arm. ‘I’m glad I have you to protect me, then.’
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sampath turn away to look out of the window. She wondered what he was thinking. Did he think she was foolish to give those boys money, too? But no, he had bought some off them as well, so maybe he didn’t.
It didn’t matter really, did it? What Sampath thought of her was irrelevant compared to Marcus’s good opinion. He was the one she was engaged to.
Sometimes, he made her feel quite small. But that was probably because she was younger and less accomplished than he was. Kalpana stifled a sigh and looked out of the window.
Despite the unforgiving sunshine, there were hundreds of people on the pavements. Everything was teeming with activity.
‘I can’t get over how busy it all is,’ she said. ‘I don’t remember seeing any of this before.’
‘It’s like India,’ said Marcus. ‘But toned down to about half. India is much busier than this. Noisier too. I much prefer this level of activity.’
She didn’t say anything but felt sad that Marcus knew more about this part of the world than she did. She’d never been to India, and she barely remembered the last time she was in Sri Lanka.
‘Have you ever been to India, Sampath?’ Marcus asked.
‘No, I haven’t,’ said Sampath. ‘One day, I will.’
‘You should. It’s an incredible country. Very vibrant,’ said Marcus. ‘A lot like here, actually.’
‘That’s good to know,’ Sampath said, neutrally.
***
When they got back to the hotel, Marcus headed straight to the bar. ‘I’m going to be late,’ he said.
Sampath laughed. ‘She’s Sri Lankan, right? She’ll be late. Sri Lankan time.’
Marcus stopped. ‘What?’
‘It’s a joke,’ said Sampath. ‘But people are generally a little loose with the time keeping around here.’
Kalpana chuckled. That, she knew about. Her father complained about it every time they had any sort of Sri Lankan event to go to. But as far as she’d known him, Sampath was always on time, if not early. ‘You’re not, though,’ she said.
‘Raised in the UK,’ he said, simply. ‘Besides, Mum’s English.’
Sure enough, when they got to the bar, Marcus’s friend wasn’t there. Kalpana hopped onto a bar stool.