Chapter 2
Kalpana sat in her parent’s dining room, fingers curled around a mug of tea.
Her mother was talking about how Kalpana’s brother, Navin, worked too hard, but that was what he had to do to maintain a job like his.
The implication was that she didn’t work hard, and her job wasn’t a ‘real’ one.
In fairness, she had been supplementing her writing with freelance editing work for years.
But the rest of her family were doctors: her parents were GPs, her brother an oncologist and her sister an endocrinologist. Kalpana was the only one in her family who hadn’t embraced science wholeheartedly …
and her parents didn’t let her forget it.
Her mother stopped talking about Navin and took a sip from her tea.
Kalpana jumped into the gap with, ‘Marcus and I are going to see a wedding planning firm that he’s lined up, tomorrow.’
Her mother’s frown softened at the mention of Marcus. ‘A wedding planning firm? That’s such a good idea. It’s so nice of Marcus to say he’ll pay for everything. Not that we couldn’t pay for your wedding, darling, we have savings, but it’s still nice.’
‘Of course, Mum. He has all these ideas about what we could do. Embrace my Sri Lankan heritage and all that.’ Saying it out loud made her cringe a little.
Her Sri Lankan heritage hadn’t been a focal point for her growing up.
Her parents had both been born in the UK and grown up here, so neither of them spoke Sinhala.
They had been too busy juggling work and parenting to worry about instilling an understanding of the country of their forebears.
Besides, her grandparents, three brown, one white, were all British too.
Her Sri Lankan–ness was there in her features and her skin, but really there was nothing else.
Labelling herself Sri Lankan made her feel like a fraud.
Marcus, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of it. He always brought it up whenever he could. He was endlessly curious about the country and the culture and often asked the questions that she had no answers to.
He’d been adamant that they should have a Sri Lankan wedding.
She’d asked her grandmother about traditional weddings, but times had changed and she wasn’t sure her own wedding would look much like her grandmother’s.
When she mentioned this, Marcus had decided to hire a wedding planner.
He would specifically find someone who knew about Sri Lanka, he’d said. She hadn’t expected him to succeed.
‘I’m a bit nervous, actually,’ she told her mother.
‘Of course you are. It’s natural to be nervous about your wedding. It’s a big deal. You can get so carried away with it all that you forget to enjoy the moment. That’s why you should record it as thoroughly as you can.’ She looked up at the wall behind Kalpana’s head.
Kalpana turned in her seat to follow her mother’s gaze. Behind her was her parents’ wedding photo. Her mother had got married in a dress and a veil. The only concession to Sri Lanka was a necklace with intertwined swans on the pendant. Her father wore a suit.
‘Yes,’ her mum’s voice was a little distant, ‘lots of photos, so that you can look back on it.’ Her eyes snapped back to Kalpana. ‘I’m sure Marcus will have arranged that.’
Kalpana sighed. ‘Yes, Mum. I’m sure he will have.
’ That was one thing she knew for sure. There would be photos and magazine interviews, and at least one person handling the social media so that the wedding would feed into Marcus’s brand.
Her brand too, in theory. Being with Marcus was good for her book sales, but oddly bad for her reviews.
‘Is there anything you’d like us to include? Anything you feel strongly about?’
Her mother looked thoughtful for a minute. ‘Obviously, we’ll need some people on the guest list …’
‘Okay.’ She was pretty sure Marcus wouldn’t have a problem with that.
‘Aside from that, no. It’s your wedding. Whatever you and Marcus want will be fine with us.’
Did that mean they didn’t care about her wedding? When her sister, Nimmi, got married, Mum had interfered and fussed until Nimmi had asked her to please stop. Now that it was Kalpana’s turn … anything was fine? She didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Something must have shown on her face because her mother added, ‘Don’t be nervous, darling. You’ll be fine. I always said your face would be the thing that made your future.’
A frown pulled at Kalpana’s brow. What her parents actually said was ‘It’s a good job she’s pretty; hopefully, she can at least marry well’.
‘Hmm.’ She took a sip of tea to hide her expression.
‘You’re so lucky to have met Marcus.’ Her mother patted Kalpana’s hand. ‘I’m relieved that you’ve found someone to look after you. I was worried that you’d end up alone.’ She looked again at the photo on the wall. ‘Once all three of you are settled, I can finally relax.’
‘You’ll never relax, Mum,’ Kalpana said. ‘You have too much that you want to do.’
Her mother shook her head. ‘There’s nothing wrong with having ambition, darling,’ she said, pointedly.
Kalpana loved her parents, but sometimes, the constant swipes at her for being a failure annoyed her.
Her mother sighed. ‘Well, those boys will be back with the food soon. It’s a shame your sister couldn’t make it. But between work and the kids, it’s hard to get time with her, I suppose.’
Marcus had gone with her brother and father to the Sri Lankan restaurant twenty minutes away to fetch the food.
Ever since they’d got engaged, Marcus was invited to the monthly family dinner at her parents’ house.
It was rare for all the family to be able to meet up, mainly because everyone worked odd shifts, but Kalpana was usually around so she, and now Marcus, came most months.
Mum didn’t want to cook on those evenings, so they always got takeaway. They usually ordered Chinese, but Marcus had requested Sri Lankan food – so he, Navin and Dad had gone to find some kottu roti.
Kalpana helped her mother set the table – plates and cutlery, ready for when the food arrived.
When it did, there was a general scramble to dish it out.
The kottu roti had chicken and vegetables mixed in with the godhamba – a thin type of flatbread – that had been cut into strips.
The sauce that came with it was spicy and smelled mouthwatering.
The meal was starchy and heavy, but weirdly addictive.
For a few minutes, they ate in silence, then Dad asked, ‘So Marcus, how is your next book doing?’
Marcus was struggling slightly with the hot sauce. He used his napkin to wipe his upper lip. ‘Pretty well, actually. I’ve done the first round of edits for it. It’s not due out for several months.’
‘Are you working on something else for next year?’
He nodded, slowly. ‘Of course. Always be working on something new, right, Kalpana?’
‘I always am,’ she said. Which was technically true.
She’d just received her edits for the book that was coming out a few weeks after they got back from their planned wedding reconnaissance trip to Sri Lanka.
Editing counted as writing. Normally, she would have an idea for her next book by now, but this time, she had nothing.
She tried not to think about that. Her brother snorted.
Kalpana narrowed her eyes. ‘What?’
‘If you can call that work,’ Navin said.
‘Excuse me. That is work. I get paid to write, you know.’
‘Yes, but what you write isn’t exactly literature.’
‘The sales figures would beg to differ,’ she snapped back.
‘Now, now,’ said their mother. ‘Stop bickering. Navin, stop goading your sister. Not everyone is cut out to be academically gifted.’ She poured a glass of water and handed it to him.
They would have carried on in this vein, but Marcus said, ‘I think you underestimate what Kalpana does.’
Navin shut up and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Everyone always listened when Marcus spoke. Her family were no exception. There was something about his deep voice and the inviolable confidence that he exuded.
‘I mean, she’s got a voice that’s so very commercial. That’s quite something,’ said Marcus.
Exactly. It wasn’t simple to write something that was easy to read.
Of course, none of her family wrote fiction, so they wouldn’t have a clue about any of that.
She didn’t presume to know how difficult or easy it was to diagnose a cancer from a wart, but she didn’t go around assuming Navin didn’t know anything.
Marcus put a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘And she’s so prolific. I mean, it takes me three years to write a book. Kalpana would write five or six in that time. It’s incredible.’ He beamed at her.
She had always felt like she was on the back foot at these meals. It was nice to have someone on her side. She loved that about him. She smiled back, gratefully.
‘That’s very loyal of you,’ said Navin.
‘Of course,’ said Marcus. ‘Her tenacity and grit are just some of the reasons why I love her.’ He gave Kalpana’s hand a little squeeze. ‘That, and she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.’
Mum said, ‘Aww.’
While Marcus’s head was turned, Navin rolled his eyes, as though to say that poor Marcus was blinded by love. Kalpana resisted the urge to snap at him. They weren’t children anymore … and now she had someone who valued her, so her brother didn’t annoy her nearly as much as he normally would.
***
Two weeks later, Kalpana was seeing the fourth wedding planner.
They were led into a meeting room where a pretty white flower arrangement sat in the centre of the table and the photos on the walls showcased different wedding venues.
All the wedding planning firms that Marcus had insisted on meeting with had been like this.
They all felt polished and expensive. Kalpana herself would have been happier with something low-key, but if Marcus wanted this, she wasn’t going to object.
He was used to a higher standard of living than her solid middle-class upbringing had offered her.