Chapter 10
Once they’d dropped the couple off at the hotel, Sampath got Lal to drop him off at his B he just ditched us and took a taxi to talk to a journalist, so it was just the bride, me and the shop ladies.
She chose something that wouldn’t have been his first choice, put it that way. ’
‘That sounds good.’
‘Yeah. She was worried that he might not approve, but when she wore it, she absolutely lit up.’
‘You persuaded her to buy it?’
‘Only a bit. I didn’t push hard. It was definitely her choice.’ That was important. His job wasn’t to foist his vision on people. It was to guide them towards options that they would choose themselves, if only they’d been aware of them.
‘So, that sounds good. She’s slowly engaging. Is that what’s worrying you? The fact that the bride isn’t excited about the details of her own wedding?’
‘Yeah. Partly. I’ve never come across that before.’
‘Hmm,’ said Ashley. ‘Tough love time, darling, but you know it’s none of our business whether they’re in love or not. Remember?’
Sampath sighed and leaned his head back against the wooden headboard.
This conversation had happened before. It was something he and Ashley did for each other.
Organising someone else’s perfect day was stressful.
So he and Ashley had come up with a deal where you rang up and complained about the client and what was bothering you and the other one reminded you that the state of the clients’ relationship was not your concern.
You were there to facilitate a wedding. You could step in if it looked like wedding jitters were going to get in the way of the marriage taking place, but that was it.
You did not get to judge their relationship or how they conducted it.
‘I remember,’ he said. ‘And, for what it’s worth, I think she really does love him. If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would have said that he is completely smitten with her too.’
‘I sense a but coming …’
He explained about how Marcus had wanted to go out for dinner. He had been in the foyer and heard the entire discussion. ‘They’re here on holiday, spending time together so that they can plan their wedding. He’s lost sight of that.’
‘But when she objected, he cancelled everything to be with her,’ said Ashley. ‘That’s positive.’
‘Yes.’ It was. On the face of it, he was worrying about nothing.
But something still niggled at him. Maybe it was because he was starting to develop a crush on Kalpana.
He had to quash that, but it wasn’t something he could talk to Ashley about.
It wasn’t something he could talk to anyone about.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said. He let out a long breath.
‘Feeling better now?’ Ashley said.
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘Always happy to help. You’ve done this for me often enough.’ Ashley laughed. ‘It’s so unusual to have a groomzilla. I haven’t had one … well, ever.’
‘I guess I just got lucky.’
He talked to her about details for a bit longer and said goodbye. ‘Thanks, Ash, you’re the best.’
‘You take care, sweetie.’
After he’d hung up, he lay on his bed and stared at the mosquito net that was suspended above him. Talking to Ashley was a great reminder that he was here just doing his job. He wasn’t Kalpana’s friend. He was just some guy they’d hired. He had better not lose sight of that.
***
Two days later, they travelled up to the hill country, stopping to see some sights on the way.
Some of these sights were temples, famous in Sri Lanka, so they were busy.
They had stopped at a popular temple whose huge white domed stupa was set right by the road.
Marcus had enquired about taking photos and been told that he could do so only if he took them from the periphery, not around the stupa itself.
So the three of them had decided to go and pay their respects first.
Technically, Kalpana was a Buddhist, but only because her parents had insisted they were.
Their trips to the temple in London had been infrequent at best. She knew very little about her own religion.
Everything she knew about it, she’d learned off the internet.
She had a good grasp of what Buddhism, as a philosophy, meant to her.
It guided the way she lived her life – doing her best to be kind and do no harm.
But here, surrounded by the trappings of the actual religion, she felt awkward and out of place. Alien, even.
Sampath had come with them but was maintaining his distance.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him place his flowers at one of the altars and bow his head, his palms pressed together in front of his forehead.
She did the same, then retired to a place in the shade of the wall, to sit and say a prayer.
She didn’t know any actual prayers, so she settled down to try and meditate instead. Beside her, Marcus did the same.
She couldn’t focus. The sounds of people moving around, snippets of conversation, the murmur of prayers mixed with the smell of incense and the sensation of hot sand beneath her calves. It felt overwhelming.
Her mind drifted to Marcus and her engagement to him.
She was happy to be marrying him, of course she was, but right now, she didn’t feel excited.
Or happy. Or anything much. This numbness was probably normal.
Pre-wedding nerves or something. She should ask Sampath.
He would know. Right now, Sampath was more invested in the details of this wedding than she was.
Marcus, who had been so happy about it all, seemed suddenly a bit more distant.
She should probably be worried about that.
She opened one eye and looked at him. He was sitting on the floor next to her, looking up at the huge dome with an expression of wonder on his face.
At least he was present again and not thinking about his next interview.
She closed her eyes again and sat still for a few minutes, for the look of the thing, then bowed forward to the temple.
Please let me be happy.
A few minutes later, they had retrieved their shoes and Marcus was taking photos, using the zoom on his phone. The people who went past gave them funny looks, which made her feel like she was doing something wrong.
‘Everything okay?’ Sampath appeared beside her. Today, probably because of the temple, he was dressed more soberly. A white shirt with tiny yellow flowers dotted around it and chinos.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’
He gave her a thoughtful glance. ‘Are you sure? You look tense.’
She looked away. Tense was one description. It felt like everything about her was screaming her otherness to the world. Everything about her was on high alert.
Standing beside her, Sampath said nothing. The silence stretched between them.
Finally, she said, ‘I feel weird. I mean, I look Sri Lankan on the outside, but I don’t know anything about it.
When I was a kid, we barely talked about the country, we were too busy trying to keep up with everyday life.
I guess I could have made an effort to learn when I was older, but I didn’t.
Now I’m here and I don’t know how to be Sri Lankan. ’
He studied her, with his deep brown eyes, for a moment.
‘The way I see it,’ he said, slowly. ‘You’re British–Sri Lankan.
That’s who you are. Not one, not the other, but both.
I’m British–Sri Lankan too. I’m not the same as you though, because we’re different people, but British–Sri Lankan is who we are.
It’s not something we’re cosplaying at or pretending to be.
We just are. There’s no right or wrong way to be who you are. ’
‘Easy for you to say,’ she said. ‘You lived here for a while. You can speak the language.’
‘I guess that’s a privilege I have in this context, true.’ They both frowned. ‘Is it not privilege?’ Sampath said. ‘Is it a different word?’
This was what was bothering her too. The writer in her strove for accuracy. ‘You learned to speak the language … so it’s not privilege. More like an advantage. Or a skill.’
‘Advantage, then. It’s an advantage I have. You could learn to speak the language if you really wanted to. But the point is … you’re not doing British–Sri Lankan wrong. There’s no right way.’
She still thought it was easy for him to say. He was clearly comfortable with who he was. She wished she could have that level of confidence.
‘Anyway,’ said Sampath, cheerfully. ‘I’m only half Sri Lankan. Mum’s English.’
‘Really?’ Now, she remembered him mentioning it. That would probably explain why he was a much lighter brown than she was. ‘How did your parents meet?’
‘Mum came over here to teach English for a year and happened to sit next to Dad on the plane. He was coming over for a holiday, which he spent mostly with her, helping her settle in. They stayed in touch and, when she went back, they started dating.’
‘That’s very romantic.’ Meeting on a plane was a nice meet-cute. Could she use that as the starting point for this blasted book that she needed to outline?
‘Yeah, they’re adorable,’ he said. ‘Both teachers. When we were kids, they took teaching jobs at the international school for a couple of years so that we could live here for a bit and see what it was like. Which is why I learned Sinhala.’
Kalpana was quiet for a moment, it seemed rude to ask but … ‘Do you find it strange – the code switching that you have to do?’
‘I did, when I was younger. But then I figured out that there is no wrong way to be me. I’m not half of each. I’m both. And one hundred per cent me.’
‘I’m glad you’ve found that peace,’ she said. ‘It must have taken a lot to come to that conclusion. It’s great that it’s given you the strength to be yourself.’
He gave her a brilliant smile. ‘I don’t know how to be anyone else.’
She nodded. ‘I think it’s brave of you,’ she said. ‘Especially since homosexuality isn’t exactly welcomed here.’
There was an awkward silence. ‘Ah,’ said Sampath. ‘I’m not gay. I just like bright clothes and personal grooming.’
She turned to look at him fully. ‘But you—’ Except he’d never said anything about it, had he? His sexuality had never entered the discussion. She had just assumed. ‘I thought—’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s relevant to my ability to do my job,’ he said. A small amount of tension had entered his voice now. ‘I’m straight, but I have an eye for colour and form. As I hope you’ve noticed.’
She thought about it. He did. So far, he had taken them to see exactly the venues and things that Marcus had requested, and then he’d gently guided them towards things that were clearly more aesthetically pleasing – which was important given that both she and Marcus had social media feeds to curate.
‘I … yes. I can see that.’ Now she was embarrassed.
He was right. There was no reason at all for him to tell them his sexual orientation.
It made no difference to the job. They’d hired him based on the vision he’d already produced and how well he listened to what they wanted.
She had jumped to a conclusion, which was understandable, and she had made a connection based on the data available to her.
What was bothering her was this small change in perspective was now giving her pause.
Why did she suddenly feel weird about working with him?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m a little embarrassed that I made a whole series of assumptions about you.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time. So long as it doesn’t affect your faith in my ability.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I believe in your wedding organiser powers.’ She grinned at him. He looked at her sideways and grinned back.
‘What are you two looking so amused about?’ Marcus said.
‘Nothing,’ she said. She cast a sideways glance at Sampath to see if she should say something. He shrugged. What was that supposed to mean?
‘I got some great photos,’ Marcus said, completely oblivious to any atmosphere.
‘Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?’ Sampath held out his hand for the phone.
‘Yes, please.’ Marcus handed his phone over. ‘Where would be a good place?’
‘Can you take a few with mine too?’ She gave Sampath her phone as well.
He took a lot of photos, crouching down on the ground to take some of them. ‘There,’ he said, handing the phones back. ‘Hopefully, you’ll have something usable among that lot.’ He looked around. ‘Have you seen everything you wanted to see? Shall we get back to the van?’
Kalpana hooked her hand around Marcus’s arm, and they followed him to the van. She watched Sampath’s broad back as he wove confidently through the crowds. The conversation had changed something.