Chapter 15
When Kalpana got back to the room, she expected Marcus to be in bed, having his nap, but he was outside on the balcony, on the phone. When she walked in, he waved to her and hung up.
‘Just checking in on the parents,’ he said. ‘They were in London and wanted to meet up. Obviously, they forgot we’re not there.’
It was odd that his parents would include her in their plans. While her parents adored Marcus, his parents were indifferent to her. ‘Are they okay?’
‘Seem to be.’
‘Did you have a good nap?’ She sat on the small sofa.
‘Yes. Did you have a good walk?’ He sat next to her and put his arm along the back of the sofa.
‘I did. I ran into Sampath on the beach. We had a nice chat.’ And Sampath had told her to talk to Marcus about how she was feeling. The very idea filled her with anxiety. What if he was annoyed by her misgivings? He was paying for everything and it seemed ungrateful of her to not enjoy it.
‘Ah, that’s who you were talking to. I couldn’t tell from the balcony,’ said Marcus. ‘Although, I should have guessed from the colour of the shirt. That guy has the whackiest shirts, but somehow he makes it work. Must be a gay guy skill.’
‘He’s not gay,’ she said, as she leaned against him.
‘Are you sure about that? He dresses like a parakeet and he works as a wedding planner. He’s definitely gay,’ said Marcus.
‘Well, he says he’s straight.’ Why were they even talking about this? She didn’t want to have to talk to Marcus about her wedding doubts, but Sampath was right. She had to. And she couldn’t put it off. She had to grasp the nettle. Just do it.
‘I suppose if he told you that …’ Marcus paused and added. ‘I guess it isn’t really relevant. Neither of us is going to date him or anything.’
She had a sudden flashback to Sampath’s hand grazing hers and the thrill that had thrummed through her. See. She shouldn’t even be thinking about that. Ugh. She really did have to talk to Marcus. She hated conflict.
She sighed. ‘Marcus, can we talk?’
‘Sure. What about?’ He tucked her closer to him under his arm. Normally she liked this. It was warm and cosy, and she felt protected. Now it felt a little too possessive.
‘It’s about the wedding. There are … a few things that’re bothering me.’
The arm lifted from around her. He shifted back a bit. He looked worried. ‘Such as?’
Where to begin? ‘It’s … Well, you were so excited about this trip, and now you’re all distant and distracted.’
‘Is this about Nirmala again? I told you. There’s nothing going on there.
’ He shook his head. ‘Not to brag, but I know a lot of beautiful and talented women and out of all of them, I chose you.’ He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger.
‘So you have no reason to be jealous. I have eyes only for you.’
She wrinkled her nose and resisted the urge to rub it. From anyone else, she would have found that patronising, but this was Marcus, and it was just the sort of thing he did. ‘You’re not … having second thoughts?’
He stared at her for a moment and then laughed. ‘Second thoughts about marrying you? Of course not, you silly goose. I love you. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and I can’t wait to make you my wife.’
It’s funny. She’d never noticed before, but he always talked about her being his wife, never about him becoming a husband. It was a small thing though. She was probably reading too much into a perfectly normal quirk of speech.
‘But then why have you been so distracted?’
‘Ah that. It’s a work thing,’ he said. ‘My agent wants me to come up with some pitches for a thing he’s going to … and then there’s the PR stuff that Nirmala is sorting out for me.’
‘Do you have to do PR while you’re on holiday?’
‘Well, babe, it’s an opportunity. I’m here and I’ll be back here next year.
I might be able to get myself on the roster for the Galle Lit Fest, maybe – you could come too and try to tap into the literary scene here.
It could be great for both of us.’ He took her hand in his.
‘But that does require me to do some work up front. See?’
‘Yes, but we’re planning our wedding.’ Now she was sounding whiny. But it wasn’t unreasonable to ask him to focus on their holiday, was it?
‘Kalpana,’ he said, with exaggerated patience.
‘I know you don’t have to worry about these things so much, because you’re so commercially driven, but for us literary authors, exposure and PR are everything.
My audience is discerning and hard to reach, unlike yours.
I have to work so much harder on the promotion. ’
‘I have to work hard on promotion too,’ she said, stung.
He demurred. ‘Well, yes. Obviously. We all do. But it’s different. Your promotion is online and there are established groups and things that you can tap into. It’s different for us.’
She stared at him. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him say this stuff, but for some reason it annoyed her more right now. She looked away. That wasn’t even the important point.
‘So … you’re distracted because of work? Not because you’ve had second thoughts about the wedding?’
‘Yes. Also, being here – seeing the culture up close – has made me realise that it’s really hard to choose what to include.
I mean, colonialism is everywhere and it’s hard to untangle that.
So I think it’s better if you and Sampath deal with it.
It’s your culture, after all. Your eye is much more attuned to it.
I wouldn’t want to inadvertently cause a ruckus. ’
‘You want me to choose everything now?’ Huh.
A few months ago, he had been all over the decision making.
She twisted the diamond ring on her finger.
He had chosen that. ‘I’m not … I’m not sure I want a wedding that’s a big spectacle.
How about we forget all this and just have a small ceremony in England, with family and friends? ’
Marcus laughed out loud. ‘Oh, Kalpana! You and your sense of humour are great.’
‘I’m serious. I don’t want all the dramatics. I just want a small wedding.’
He shifted position so that he could take both her hands in his and look into her eyes.
‘But babe, a wedding is a celebration. It’s a public declaration of our commitment to each other.
We have to make it show.’ He leaned forward and kissed her.
‘Besides, if the most beautiful woman in the world has agreed to be my wife, I want to shout it from the rooftops! I’m sure you can understand that! ’
Kalpana gave up. It was hard to argue with that logic. ‘Okay. But please, can you be more involved and help me choose things?’
He beamed. ‘Of course. We’ll talk about what you thought about the wedding package here when I get back tomorrow evening and then we’ll make a choice that suits us both.’ He released her hands. ‘Happy?’
‘Yeah.’ She wasn’t sure it would work out the way he seemed to think it would, but she was willing to try for the sake of their relationship.
‘Fantastic.’ He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up to standing. ‘Let me go freshen up and we’ll go see what the food is like in this place.’
Kalpana slumped back in her seat. Now she knew that he wasn’t getting cold feet. He still wanted to marry her; he was being distant because of work. She felt … nothing. She should be relieved. Instead, she felt this emptiness, which was unexpected.
Ever since she was young, Kalpana had known that she wasn’t special.
Unlike her siblings, she only got average grades at school.
She was too shy to be any good on the stage, too fond of reading to be good at sport and too skinny to be cute.
She was just … the third child. The kind of kid that had nice eyes and a lovely personality.
Until one year her hormones finally kicked in and her face firmed up, giving her cheekbones that complimented her already impressive eyes.
Her normally skinny frame developed boobs and hips.
Suddenly, she was pretty. Her parents had been delighted.
‘At least she’s pretty,’ they had said. They had fully expected her to attract a man who would look after her. But that hadn’t happened either.
Kalpana didn’t lack offers, but ever since her disastrous first relationship, her confidence in herself was so low that she rarely explored them.
That was one of the reasons she’d started to read romance novels.
It had started as research: how on earth did people find love?
Then they became something that delighted her.
The search for love was endlessly fascinating.
Different characters fell in love in different ways.
When she turned to writing – and found that she was rather good at it – it came as no surprise that she chose romance.
Marcus’s attention had been a revelation.
When she met him at that party, she had already read everything he’d written and knew exactly who he was.
He was the literary version of the hunky heartthrob.
She saw the way his face lit up when he spotted her across the room, the way he made a beeline towards her, weaving through the crowd.
To be the object of his affection was an incredible feeling.
For the first time ever, she felt special.
Like she shone bright in a room full of ordinary people.
That she mattered. And then, to her amazement, he had continued to pursue her and love her.
When she was with him, she was more than she could ever be by herself.
It seemed that her parents were right after all.
She had needed to find the man to complete her.
So, she had dedicated herself to being his girlfriend.
He needed her to be quiet and pretty and supportive, so she was.
And it worked. He was still devoted to her.
Oh, she didn’t feel incandescent or like every single love song was written about her, but not everyone felt like that, did they?
People were all different. Love couldn’t look the same for everyone.
Love that set fire to your heart and lit up your whole being was the exception.
It was the thing you hoped for. That’s why you wanted to read books about it.
That’s why she wanted to write books about it.
Through her characters, she got to travel and go to parties and be daring.
And the big sweeping feelings of love? She wanted that too and she was in the fortunate position that she could imagine it for herself.
Real life, she knew, was more prosaic than that.
Real life meant that the man who loved her could simultaneously be in love with her and be distracted by his work.
Real life meant that some weird things happened that felt significant, when really, they weren’t.
She didn’t think she was capable of big, over-the-top love, but she loved Marcus in her own quiet way. For her, that was enough. Wasn’t it?
Slowly, Kalpana made her way to the dressing table and undid her hair. She brushed it out in an effort to make herself a bit less windswept for when they went for dinner.
This quiet love was what she had. She should stop being ungrateful and enjoy it.