Chapter 13
Sampath felt like hell warmed up when he woke up.
He had missed breakfast, so he wandered bleary-eyed into the kitchen to see if he could persuade Appu to give him some food.
The lady in the kitchen, Appu’s wife, took one look at him and handed him a strong coffee and a plate of still-warm string hoppers, kiri hodi and seeni sambol.
She gestured to a small table with two chairs either side of it.
‘Sit and eat it in here,’ she said. ‘The tourists are on the balcony again. You may as well eat up before you go to see them.’
He sat down, grateful for the cool dimness of the kitchen. The seeni sambol was very spicy. Between that, the heaviness of the string hoppers and the coffee, he was soon feeling more human.
‘Has Lal been up already?’ he asked. The other bed had been empty when he awoke.
‘Yes. He’s sitting in the front reading a book,’ she said. ‘You boys had beers last night, then?’
‘We didn’t leave a mess, did we?’ he asked. ‘We tried to tidy everything up before we went to bed.’
‘No, no. That was fine,’ she said. There was a moment of silence. She stood next to him. When, after a moment, he looked up, she gave him a sad smile and said, ‘I’m sorry you lost your sister.’
He didn’t know what to say. Lal must have told them. He simply nodded. The older woman muttered something that sounded like ‘you poor boy’, and patted him on the shoulder before she turned away.
He wasn’t sure why, but her sympathy made him feel better.
A short while later, he went up to the balcony and found Marcus sitting in an old-fashioned plantation chair.
It was made of teak with cane weaving for the seat.
It was shaped like half a sleigh bed, so that you could recline comfortably and rest your arms. Marcus had opened out the folding armrests, so that he could prop his feet up too.
With a book in one hand and his phone on his chest, he looked relaxed.
‘Oh, hi,’ he said, when Sampath came up. ‘What’s the plan for this afternoon?’
Oh good. He didn’t seem annoyed about what had happened last night. Sampath said, ‘Um, the plan was for you guys to have a nice, relaxed day and we’d set off mid-afternoon to go down to the coast.’
‘Couldn’t we get going a bit earlier?’ Marcus picked up his phone and looked at it, before putting it down with an exasperated tut. ‘I can’t wait to get back to somewhere with a phone signal and Wi-Fi.’
‘Sure. Just let me know when you want to go.’ It was Marcus who had insisted on visiting this place, so if he didn’t want to stay here, then they would leave. He wondered how Kalpana was faring without the internet or phone service. Was she suffering as much as Marcus was?
He was glad that Kalpana wasn’t around right now. He needed to apologise to Marcus – he had been rude to him last night.
He cleared his throat and said, ‘Marcus. I need to apologise for snapping last night. I got … a bit emotional. It was a personal thing, and I shouldn’t have let my feelings get away from me like that.
’ He didn’t regret tricking Marcus into revealing that he didn’t, in fact, know Kalpana’s books at all.
But it wasn’t right to have been quite so rude about it.
He hoped Kalpana hadn’t passed on that he’d called Marcus an entitled dickhead.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Marcus. ‘Whatever it was you said to Kalpana, it’s really lit a fire in her. She’s been scribbling away in her notebook all morning.’
‘Really? She’s writing? That’s brilliant.’ He didn’t have to feign happiness; he genuinely was excited that she was writing again.
‘I’m really glad,’ said Marcus. ‘I’ve got to go down to Colombo for the day tomorrow and I was worried that she’d get bored by herself in the hotel. I mean, you’re there, obviously, but she might get bored in the evenings. But if she’s writing again …’
‘You’re going back to Colombo for the day?’ said Sampath. ‘When? We’re supposed to meet the events manager there to see the venue tomorrow. I can see if they can move it to the next day and—’
‘Oh, Kalpana can give you a good steer on what I want. And you’ve got a good instinct for if they’re trying to pull the wool over our eyes.’
‘Yes, but … you’re the groom.’
‘You don’t need me to be there.’
Sampath closed his eyes and tried not to sigh. He opened them again. ‘If Kalpana goes with me, people think I am the groom. If we tell people otherwise, it looks weird, and people will judge her for running around with two men she’s not related to.’
‘Seriously?’ Marcus’s expression was sceptical.
If Kalpana had been white or treated him with the same distance as a local client – who would be much more aware of the status difference between supplier and client – it wouldn’t have been an issue.
‘It’s a cultural thing. People are a bit more old-fashioned here in that way.’
‘Oh,’ said Marcus. ‘In that case, why don’t you just say you’re her cousin or something. That should make it all okay, right?’
It wasn’t a terrible idea. ‘But I’m sure Kalpana would much rather you made these decisions as a couple.’
Marcus gave him a stern look. ‘You leave worrying about Kalpana to me.’
‘I worry about all the brides I look after,’ he said, stiffly.
This was true. He did worry about them all and talk them down when they had doubts.
A small, guilty voice said that he didn’t daydream about other brides and think about how beautiful they were.
Or feel the whole world tremble when their hands brushed against his.
He quashed that thought. No. He’d had too much to drink last night.
That’s all it was. No big deal. ‘I worry about the grooms too,’ he added.
‘Is everything okay, Marcus? You were so invested in the details of your wedding and now you seem distracted.’
The other man avoided his eyes.
‘Well, I’m here if you need to talk to someone,’ Sampath said. ‘It’s not unusual for people to feel a bit of doubt when the dream suddenly becomes real. So—’
‘I’m fine,’ Marcus snapped. ‘I’m just … busy. With work.’ He looked up but seemed to be looking at a spot at the top of Sampath’s head. ‘I have absolutely no doubts about marrying Kalpana. None at all. Okay?’
He knew when to back down. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to Lal about leaving immediately after lunch.’
As he made his way downstairs, he wished he could talk to Ashley.
There was clearly something going on with Marcus.
If it was a work thing, as he said, then there was nothing Sampath could do – anything he did would be interfering.
But if it was doubts about getting married …
well, he had to deal with that pretty often in this job.
He paused mid-step. The treacherous thought that he would quite like this wedding to fall apart nudged its way in.
No. He needed this to go right. It was a big contract, and he would lose his job if it failed on his watch.
He carried on down the stairs. Whatever his feelings about Marcus and Kalpana’s compatibility, he had to remain professional and keep the wedding on track.
He found Kalpana on the back veranda. She was sitting at a small table, writing in a notebook.
Her hair was escaping from the bun at the nape of her neck.
Her bottom lip was tucked into her teeth.
One hand was propping up her temple as the other hurried across the page.
She looked like focus personified. He couldn’t bear to disturb her, so he stood in the doorway for a minute and watched.
Everything about her was compact and elegant. Another strand of hair came loose from her bun and drifted to her face. Sampath’s hand involuntarily twitched to put it back. Kalpana moved her hand to brush the hair back. In doing so, she looked up.
‘Oh! Sampath, hi.’
When she smiled, he forgot every word of the pep talk he’d just given himself. Oh god. He was falling for the bride. He was a terrible person.
‘I’m writing again,’ Kalpana said, and gestured towards the notebook. She looked so happy.
He had to get a grip. He cleared his throat. ‘That’s fantastic.’
Walking over, he pulled up a chair opposite her, making sure he left a good amount of space between them.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘What you said last night …’
Panic was a hot poker in his lungs. What did he say last night? He was pretty sure he remembered everything, but had he forgotten something? Had he said something stupid like ‘don’t marry that guy’ or ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’?
‘What … what I said last night?’
‘About how your sister found joy for minutes at a time in my books.’ She looked down at the page covered in surprisingly messy writing.
‘I’ve always hoped that my books would help people escape dark times, but until yesterday, I never fully believed it.
’ She swallowed. ‘Now that I know, I feel so … grateful.’ She looked at him and her eyes were wet.
His first response was relief. He hadn’t done anything stupid. In fact, if he was getting Kalpana Jay writing again, he had done something brilliant. Or his sister had. Lihini would have been so pleased. ‘I’m glad it helped. I was only telling you the truth.’
She smiled, a little tearily, and nodded. ‘Thank you.’
They both looked away. Birdsong flooded into the silence. Trees rustled. In the bushes something moved and a little lizard ran across the sun-dappled veranda.
Sampath forced himself to focus. ‘Um. Marcus would like to leave immediately after lunch.’
‘What? Oh.’ She looked around. ‘I like it here. It’s so quiet and tranquil. And I can’t check my phone, so when I write, I really write.’
‘I agree, but we were only booked in until 3 p.m. anyway, so …’
‘Right. Yes. Of course.’ She shook her head, suggesting that it wasn’t okay really. ‘Sure. I’ll pack up and be ready to leave after lunch. Thank you.’
‘There’s … one other thing. Marcus said he’s heading back to Colombo for the day tomorrow. So you and I will have to talk to the hotel about the wedding package without him.’
He saw the way her shoulders slumped and the joy that had been beaming out of her earlier dimmed.
‘He mentioned he was going away for the day, but I didn’t make the connection about talking to the hotel,’ she said. ‘Still, it’ll be okay. I’ll have you there.’
He nodded. ‘I spoke to Marcus about how it looks a bit weird, and he suggested we pretend I’m your cousin. Just to make things less awkward. Are you up for that?’
She thought about it. ‘Okay. It would look less odd than a bride hanging around a hotel with two random guys, right?’
‘Yes. I would rather not pretend to be the groom because … well, if you decide that it’s the place you want, we’d have some explaining to do.’
She thought about it for a moment and said, ‘Do I have to call you Aiya or something?’ She giggled. ‘That would be so weird.’
Weird and oddly personal. Best not. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Let’s just keep it simple. We explain that the groom is not with us on the day, I’m just stepping in to help.’
She was still giggling, as though the idea of being related to him was hilarious.
‘Yes,’ she said, finally. ‘Yes. That’s fine. I don’t mind at all. As you say, reputation is a big deal here.’
‘Great.’ If they were leaving soon, he needed to cram his own stuff back into the suitcase. ‘I’ll see you at lunch then.’
He got to the door before he remembered that there was something else he had to tell her. He turned back. ‘Oh. Yesterday, when I said about the heroine of The Sweetest Thing being an artist. I … knew that wasn’t right. You haven’t written a book about an artist, I know.’
She smiled. ‘I did think it was odd that you said that. I guess it was an emotional sort of evening and you forgot. Completely understandable.’
‘Oh, I didn’t forget. I—’
‘Kalpana?’ Marcus was coming down the stairs.
Sampath shut up. It was probably just as well. What was he going to say anyway? That he’d set a trap for Marcus? That sounded like he was trying to drive a wedge between the couple. That wouldn’t be good at all.
When Marcus reached the ground floor, Sampath said, ‘All sorted. We’ll leave immediately after lunch as you requested.’
‘Brilliant,’ Marcus said. ‘I can’t wait to get back to civilisation.’
***
Kalpana was sad to leave the villa. The lovely woman who cooked for them had pressed a small parcel of snacks into her hands.
She noticed that Sampath had got a slightly bigger parcel and a gentle pat on the arm.
He must have charmed her the way he charmed everyone.
Sampath was quite the character. He was gentle and good with people.
Handsome, too, with a slight tendency to worry too much. A perfect romance hero.
As soon as the phone signal reappeared, Marcus was on his phone.
She should probably check her messages, but she couldn’t be bothered.
A quick glance told her that there were no new messages in her family WhatsApp group or from Nyssa, so there was nothing urgent.
She tucked her phone back into her bag and leaned against the window.
Marcus suddenly deciding to abandon her for a day again really annoyed her.
He was the one who had wanted all this elaborate wedding stuff.
Now he was pushing all the decision-making onto her.
How was she supposed to know what he wanted?
She was bound to get it wrong and then he would sulk. She just knew he would.
At least Sampath was going to be there. He was sensible.
She opened one eye and glanced at him sitting in the front.
Today he was wearing a purple-and-white batik shirt.
He was chatting with Lal and whatever the driver was saying made him laugh.
He had a warm rumble of a laugh. He seemed happy and relaxed.
If he had thought anything had gone amiss last night, it clearly wasn’t bothering him.
That frisson that had run through her when he touched her hand still bothered her.
She had never felt that before. She closed her eyes again.
It had been a strange, liminal time last night.
Late at night, so she was tired. He had shared something deeply personal that had affected her profoundly.
She’d only had one beer, but given that she didn’t drink much these days, it had probably affected her.
No. That frisson was nothing. She must have imagined it.
She was with Marcus. Who was handsome and clever and revered by the literary community. Why, when she had someone as brilliant as Marcus by her side, would she feel anything for a guy whose job was to plan her wedding? She would be insane to do that.
Happy that she had rationalised her feelings, she thought about the characters she was going to be writing about in the new book she’d just started incubating in her head. Eventually, she fell asleep to dream about them.