Vijay looked into Pran’s bloodshot eyes.
‘Go on, pass me another,’ said Pran.
‘You’re really trying to catch up with Papa over there?’ said Vijay. Motichand was snoring in his favourite chair, legs splayed, arms hanging down either side, mouth open so wide he could catch grasshoppers.
‘Come on.’ Pran beckoned for the whisky in Vijay’s hand.
Vijay poured two glasses, far more generous than any bartender in town. If they couldn’t go out like they used to, why shouldn’t they make the most of it now? He got up and flicked off the light, casting the room into darkness. Outside in the yard, fruit bats flitted in the gloom.
‘So, is Asha still angry with you?’ asked Vijay. The seat fabric was warm beneath his skin as he sat back down. ‘With us?’ He couldn’t ignore it, that way she looked at them both now, occasionally accompanied by a beautifully arched eyebrow.
Pran slumped further into his chair, resting his head on the seat back. ‘She’ll be fine.’
Vijay laughed. ‘Yes, that’s definitely what fine looks like.’
‘I’ve explained everything. She just needs more time to cool off.’
‘Cool off? The only place cold enough is the North Pole.’ Vijay gulped the whisky too fast; it seared the back of his throat. ‘You just got married and you’re already in her bad books.’
Pran laughed. ‘Such an expert, hey? Maybe you should have married her.’
Vijay shifted in his seat, hoping his face didn’t betray how he felt.
‘I told her I didn’t mean to hurt her,’ said his brother.
‘But you have hurt her, haven’t you? We both have.’
‘It’s too late to feel guilty now. You played your part. It’s not like I forced you.’
Vijay glanced at Motichand. He was still sleeping, but he jolted, as though some invisible hand had tried to shake him, then settled again. Vijay turned back towards Pran. ‘I know, but—’
‘Asha’ll come around. Or maybe I’ll find another way to make it up to her,’ he grinned.
‘Spare me the details.’ Vijay watched his elder brother as he knocked back the rest of his drink.
‘Pour me another,’ said Pran, batting away a fly that had landed on his glass.
Vijay served him some more. ‘I might go and see if December wants some.’
‘Leave him, it’s late.’
‘I just want to see if he’s up. He must get lonely in there.’
‘Why is everyone suddenly treating him like he’s some long-lost uncle come to stay?’ Pran was starting to slur his words, or maybe Vijay had drunk too much. ‘Always trying to muscle into this family. He’s found a way now, hasn’t he?’
‘I think that has something to do with working here and having to wash your smelly clothes!’
Pran shook his head. ‘All this special treatment. We have enough to deal with, getting the dukan back on track.’
Vijay downed the rest of his glass. ‘What’s your problem? The dukan? We could be talking about his life.’
‘But why risk all this when he’s just a—’
‘Just a what? A servant?’
Pran put his glass down on the armrest. ‘Well, he is.’
Vijay got up, the floor rolling beneath him.
‘Where are you going? Sit down and have another drink,’ said Pran in a wayward voice.
Vijay snatched the bottle of whisky from the table, bottleneck hanging down from his fingers. ‘You really think we should throw him out on the street?’
‘No. But the sooner he’s out of here, the sooner we can all sleep at night.’
‘Well, get on with it. You’ve been saying it for ages. Help him get out of here.’
‘Trust me, I’m doing everything I can.’
‘What is that exactly? What are these hotly guarded plans of yours?’
‘It’s under control.’
‘Sure it is.’ Vijay walked to the doorway. He didn’t need to hear any more.
‘Vij, wait.’
Vijay waved his hand dismissively. ‘Forget it. I’m off to find another drinking partner.’
*
Out into the humid night air. Vijay felt his way along the outside of the house with the tip of his left arm, around the veranda.
He knocked on the storeroom door softly, or at least he hoped he had.
‘Come in,’ December whispered.
‘Sorry. Did I wake you?’ said Vijay.
‘No, I couldn’t sleep anyway.’
‘I thought you could do with some company.’ Vijay raised the bottle.
December laughed. ‘That’s my kind of company.’
Vijay put the whisky down on the table. He slid his body onto the floor, back resting on the shelf behind. ‘You’ll need to catch up with me, though.’
December poured some into a glass on his table. He lay back, propping himself up on his elbow, feet hovering off the bed.
‘Forgot my glass, this’ll have to do,’ said Vijay, taking the bottle back and gulping the buttery liquid, hot down his throat.
They talked a while, thinking about the old days, remembering Jennifer, the lady who’d come around selling fruit and vegetables each morning, who’d taken a shine to December a few years back.
‘She kept flirting with you,’ said Vijay. ‘Remember?’
‘No, she didn’t, she did that with everyone.’
‘Oh, come on, you remember, don’t you?’ Vijay put on a high-pitched voice, fluttering his eyelashes. ‘Look at these tomatoes, Mr December, very fresh, very fresh, Mr December.’
‘Stop that.’ December waved a hand in dismissal, stifling a laugh. ‘Anyway, what’s your father up to? Gone to bed?’
‘Papa’s probably on the floor of the sitting room by now,’ Vijay grinned. ‘Pran’s there with him.’
‘He didn’t want to join you?’ December looked away, a wrinkle forming between his brows.
‘Tired, I guess,’ said Vijay.
‘Because of the dukan? I’m not helping matters staying here.’
‘We’re all pulling together, he’s not doing it alone.’ Vijay poured a triple into December’s glass. ‘Here, have another.’
‘Might as well. It’s not as though I have anything to do in the morning.’
They sat in silence for a while. The electricity generator from a nearby house hummed outside.
December glanced at the books and papers Jaya had brought him to read piled up on the table. ‘You read the Argus today?’
‘I skimmed through it. But it’s more of the same. Whatever crazy law Amin’s come up with this time. They keep the real news out because they’re scared of him. And everyone believes his propaganda.’
‘Not everyone,’ December said, his tone soft. ‘But some people want to believe the headlines. If you were promised a better life, wouldn’t you want to believe it was true?’
‘But why don’t they see what’s behind his lies?’
‘When you’re left to rot in the slums and no one seems to care, wouldn’t you believe it? Rifles give them power, the army treats them well. Of course the soldiers swallow the lies that give them hope.’ December stared at him.
Vijay nodded. All he’d thought about was the fear he felt, his problems.
‘And there are people who don’t think the Asians have been fair,’ December said.
Vijay knew what people said about them, how they spoke in Gujarati and Hindi about their workers, kept others down while they grew rich. ‘Some Asians have behaved badly, I know that. But those people, those headlines that say we’re bad. Amin eats the flesh of his enemies, that’s what the rumours say. We’re not like him.’
‘He is crazy, no doubt about that. But remember that whoever writes those stories has their own agenda.’
‘But either way, Amin’s eliminating everyone who gets in the way. Like you, hiding away like this.’
December sighed. ‘I’m sorry you all have to deal with it.’
Vijay lifted his head, trying to hold it steady. ‘That’s not what I meant. We’re fine. Anyway, it’s not for long. Pran’s nearly—’
‘I am not stupid.’ December sat up. ‘Pran doesn’t want me here.’
Vijay thought of the best way to answer.
‘I don’t blame him,’ December looked down, tracing the rim of the glass with his finger.
‘Come on, don’t talk like that.’ Vijay ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the tangles. It was a risk for all of them, he knew that, but what was the alternative?
‘Sat around like a useless piece of mutton, slowly rotting in the heat. Waiting, always waiting.’ December’s voice rose with each word. ‘I need to find Aber.’
‘Please . . .’ said Vijay. The words wouldn’t come, all jumbled up.
December looked up. ‘You know, when I was younger, all I wanted to do was earn enough money to chase women and drink waragi. I wasted all that time when I should have been with my little girl. I wasted so much time.’
‘You were young, it’s what we do,’ said Vijay, trying to muster a smile.
‘But working so hard, just to make money. And for what? I don’t even know what’s happened to my daughter. Don’t make the same mistakes as me.’
Vijay stared at him, felt the guilt burning in his chest, thinking of the money he and Pran had chased together, all the way across an ocean. ‘Just wait, Pran will—’
‘Your brother wants me to leave, can’t you see?’ December slammed his hand down on the table. He froze for a moment. ‘I – I didn’t mean it.’
Vijay tried to put the whisky bottle aside but instead he knocked it over, brown liquid spreading across the concrete floor. He pulled the bottle up again, managing to save some. As he tried to scoop the liquid with his hand he quickly realized how futile it was. ‘Why won’t you accept our help?’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t just sit around here.’ December stood up, pulling out his bag from under the bed, shoving his spare clothes inside.
‘What are you doing?’ Vijay tried to pull himself up, but his head was spinning.
‘I have to go.’ December hoisted his bag onto his shoulder.
‘No, wait, hear me out.’ Vijay clung to the shelf. ‘What you said about Pran, it’s not true.’
December paused.
‘No, I mean, of course he’s never forgiven you for that time when we were kids, at the market.’ Vijay’s tone was playful. He waited to see if December would take the bait. December had taken Vijay and Pran shopping. Pran had gone missing, running off to talk to an old woman who sold vegetables at one of the far stalls. He had tried to find his way back to the others and worked himself into a state. By the time December and Vijay found him, Pran was shouting and all the people in the market had turned to stare.
‘How could you do that?’ Pran had cried, hitting December’s chest as people pushed their way past them. ‘You’re supposed to look after us.’
‘You shouldn’t have run off,’ said December.
‘You’re paid to look after us!’ Pran yelled.
December held his wrists gently, letting the little boy shout and cry until he was exhausted. After a few minutes, December crouched down and looked at him.
Pran stared, then raised his hand. Surely he wouldn’t hit December?
But instead, he shyly held his hand out in front of him.
December took his cue and shook it. ‘Good, now let’s go get a soda baridi.’
‘Do you remember that day?’ Vijay said. ‘Pran was furious!’
December gave a small laugh.
‘Look, don’t do anything rash,’ Vijay said. ‘Promise me. For Ba, if no one else?’
December nodded, lowering his bag to the floor.
‘I better go and get some sleep.’
‘Vijay?’
‘Yes,’ he said, turning around.
‘Leave the whisky.’