Saturday Evening
Rhodo Cottage was a hive of activity. The poker partners had come over to lend a hand. The judge and his mates pottered around arranging the chairs, straightening the cushions, checking the bar and polishing the glasses. The women were in the kitchen, chopping, frying, baking, basting or simply supervising the maids, while Mrs Joshi went around the kitchen, raising the lids of the simmering pots and checking them with her finely honed olfactory senses. By six in the evening, the cooking was all done and the ladies heaved a sigh of relief.
Fresh flowers had been arranged in crystal vases, the table laid and the hall spruced. JJ went through his checklist one last time before they settled in the living room, exhausted after the day’s labour. They were ready for the guests. The sun had set and the chill began extending its knobby fingers into the rooms.
‘It is still an hour and a half before the guests arrive. We deserve a hot cup of coffee after all the work,’ commented the professor, plumping into his favourite chair by the window.
‘Look who’s talking,’ retorted his wife. ‘You’ve been lolling in that chair all day, reading the newspaper while we slaved in the kitchen.’
‘That’s unfair,’ returned the professor. ‘I did the dusting and helped JJ arrange the room.’
‘Well, I think we deserve a cup of coffee more than you and we refuse to step into the kitchen again.’
‘I’ll make it,’ volunteered the chivalrous colonel, moseying toward the kitchen. ‘I’m good at whipping up a nice, frothy latté. You can check with Laila. She loves my coffee. Isn’t that so, Meine Liebste?’
‘True,’ his wife averred. As soon as the colonel was out of earshot, she added, ‘Even if he didn’t, it would be foolish to disagree.’
Ten minutes later, Acharya was back with seven cups of coffee and a plate of crackers arranged neatly on a tray.
‘You are a lucky woman,’ Mrs Joshi told Laila. ‘I wish my husband would follow the colonel’s example.’
‘That’s unfair. Don’t I make you a cup of tea in the morning?’ protested the judge.
‘The last time you made a cup of tea was about six years ago when I was ill. I am still waiting for the next cup.’
‘Alright, I promise to make the tea tomorrow morning. That should take care of the next six years.’
‘I would rather do without the once-in-six-years cup of tea, than have you boasting about it.’
‘This is rather good I must confess, colonel. Do share the secret of your coffee-making skills,’ said JJ. ‘I would love to surprise my wife with a cup of coffee on a cold winter evening.’
‘It’s no secret. Just add dollops of love into it.’ His friends shuddered at his cheesiness.
‘What do you think of Ramola’s guests? An odd bunch, aren’t they?’ said the professor.
‘Bad eggs, uova marce, all of them,’ replied the colonel, using an Italian phrase for emphasis. He paused thoughtfully, stirring an extra spoon of sugar into his coffee.
‘That’s a new phrase,’ protested Laila, frustrated with her husband’s habit of using foreign words during conversation.
‘It’s not a bad word, my love. It means bad egg, though. Anyway, I’ve been watching that scoundrel of an almost ex-husband. He was flirting blatantly with Tia. I wonder what Ramola ever saw in him.’
‘If you ask me, Arif is the dangerous one,’ said Uma. ‘There is an aura of evil around him.’
‘Quite a creepy character,’ agreed the doc. ‘I don’t trust shifty- eyed people.’
‘What about Sammy Kelkar? I think he is the more dangerous one of the two. Arif’s reputation precedes him and people can be wary of him; not so with the politician. His saccharine-coated words lull you into a false sense of security. Beneath the veneer of affability lies a man as tough as nails and ruthless to boot,’ said the judge.
‘He suffers from OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), I’ve discovered,’ the colonel chortled. ‘I noticed his habit of using a hand sanitizer every time he shakes someone’s hand.’
‘Well, I’ve dug up some dirt on him,’ said JJ. ‘He has a bad reputation and has been known to adopt unscrupulous methods to get his way.’
‘Where did you find the information?’ asked the colonel.
‘Where else, the Internet? If you have the time, do take a look.’
‘What a bunch of crooks,’ shuddered the doc. ‘Trust Ramola to house the lot under her roof.’
‘It is not safe to have those men under one roof. Did you notice the undercurrents between Sammy and Arif?’ Laila added her two-penny worth to the discussion. ‘Sammy is a slimeball. I don’t like him.’
‘Darling, you don’t have to like anyone other than me,’ laughed her husband. ‘I will feel threatened if you began liking Sammy or Arif.’
‘The director is the only man with some sense,’ commented the doc. ‘He is a decent chap.’
‘Well, he is a creative man but a deep one.’
‘God! Listening to you talking about Ramola’s guests is like going through a list of most-wanted scoundrels,’ chided Mrs Joshi. ‘Just because they’re from Mumbai doesn’t mean they are all evil.’
‘True!’ agreed the doc. ‘I think we are prejudiced.’
‘Why has Ramola invited them here, I wonder. She doesn’t seem to have much love lost for any of them.’
‘Don’t you get it, brother?’ said the judge. ‘She has vendetta on her mind. I was watching the guests closely when she spoke about her memoir, and I can swear I saw murder in a few pairs of eyes.’
‘All you need is a gavel in your hand, my dear, and you wouldn’t hesitate to consign them all to the gallows,’ replied his wife.
‘Perhaps it was not wise of her to announce the book at the party,’ the colonel nodded in agreement. ‘She is tempting fate.’
‘I like the woman,’ confessed the professor. ‘She is spunky.’
‘I like her, too,’ said the colonel, lighting up his cigar. ‘She is surprisingly modest.’
‘…and very intelligent,’ added the professor. ‘She picked up the intricacies of golf in a matter of days.’
‘You guys are totally smitten with her,’ teased Laila. ‘I’m beginning to feel threatened.’
‘What about the time you spent ogling Vikram Ahuja?’ the colonel ribbed her back.
‘I wasn’t ogling him,’ Laila protested. ‘I was being polite.’
‘Oh yes, if ogling counts as politeness, I am sure praising is acceptable.’
‘Will the two of you stop?’ scolded Geeta. The couple was known for their ribbing. ‘This is a serious discussion.’
‘Speaking of serious things, I sense a storm brewing at Charmwood. Things are not quite what they seem,’ said the colonel.
‘Did you sense some disquiet at the party? Go on explain it to us,’ said Laila, who had immense faith in her husband’s judgement.
‘I definitely did. While you were enjoying a chinwag and gossip session, I had been concentrating on Ramola’s guests from Mumbai. A gathering is the best place to observe people.’
‘I checked with a friend of mine at Mumbai this morning. That Arif character is notorious. The police has a book full of criminal charges against him. Of course, nothing could ever be proved,’ said JJ looking worried. ‘All investigations are stonewalled when it comes to influential people. Such people manage to buy out the police and the judiciary. Besides, most of them have a political clout.’
‘What is their connection with the actress? I can’t imagine her having anything to do with a criminal or a politician.’
‘She is not a damsel in need of rescuing,’ pouted Laila. ‘I don’t think she is lil’ Miss Lily White.’
‘Why do I get the feeling that you are jealous of Ramola?’ remarked the colonel. ‘She may not be lil’ Miss Lily White, but those guys are as crooked as they come. They could harm her. I sensed a strong undercurrent of animosity between them. The announcement has disturbed the entire lot, there is no doubt about that. I fear, they will go to any length to prevent the memoir from hitting the shelves.’
‘Didn’t she say that each one of them has played an important role in her life?’ asked the doc.
‘We will know the connection only after we read her book.’
‘I am worried for her,’ Uma shivered involuntarily.
‘I am glad they’ll be leaving tomorrow,’ said Laila. ‘They have caused enough excitement in our lives and now I want to go back to my calm and comfortable existence.’
‘A calm and comfortable existence, without occasional excitement would be boring, Mi Querido,’ the colonel teased his wife, using one of his favourite expressions.
‘Not for me.’
‘So that was why she was keeping a low profile for the past several months – she was busy working on the manuscript. Apart from her occasional visits to the golf course and daily walks in the morning, we rarely ever saw her around,’ said the professor.
‘Didn’t she say that Tia helped her write the book?’ queried Uma. ‘She works as a sub-editor at Mumbai, I was told.’
‘Tia is a nice girl and Ramola seems genuinely fond of her, as far as I could tell,’ said the doc.
‘I bet something is going on in the don’s mind. I have heard say that he hates the guts of the politician and vice versa,’ said the colonel.
‘Who told you that?’ asked the professor.
‘Who else? I got it straight from the horse’s mouth. I mean the mare’s mouth. Ramola was making a joke about the verbal sparring that goes on between the two. In any case, they make no effort to hide their hostility.’
‘I quite liked the director,’ Laila confessed. ‘I like the kind of movies he makes. Sen comes across as a polite guy, especially when you compare him to the rest of the boorish lot.’
‘You are partial to him because he is a Bong,’ joked the doc.
‘Bongs are nice people.’
‘Not the ones I know.’
‘Just you wait,’ threatened the colonel. ‘The next time you want to be invited for fish curry, I will make sure to remind you of that statement.’
A few kilometres away from Rhodo Cottage, Tim sat surrounded by dusty files in his poky little office. It had bilious green walls that were always damp for some reason. He was swathed in a daydream. The files lay open before him unread, as he stared unseeingly through the window overlooking a dirt track lined with trees.
Two years ago, when Tim met Ramola, he hadn’t expected to fall in love with her. She was making her way up the steep stone stairs in the market place seeking a stationery shop, when he first saw her. She returned his gaze, missed a step, and fell into his waiting arms.
‘Wanna bet it wasn’t an accident?’ commented his aunt acidly when he told her about the incident. ‘Staged! Just like it happens in the movies.’
Clichéd it might have sounded, but for Tim it was instant attraction. They continued to meet, sometimes by accident and sometimes by design. He remembered the magical evening when he had walked to her house on the pretext of sharing some music CDs with her.
Over the months, the two of them had become friends. Ramola, he knew, was not in love with him. That didn’t stop him from hoping that she would reciprocate his feelings one day.
A sallow, exhausted sun sank gradually behind the crest of mountains, its dying embers painting the sky in myriad shades of crimson. The shadows had grown longer and a heady scent of flowers surrounded the place.
The air was redolent with hope as, his heart thudding, Tim led the dog through the gate.
Beautiful in twilight, dressed in emerald green, Ramola was in a contemplative mood.
‘Hi,’ she smiled brightly as Tim plonked himself in an adjoining chair on the lawn. With a sigh of relief, Dim settled himself at his master’s feet. ‘I could have wished for anything and got it.’
He shot a puzzled look at her.
‘I was wishing for company and here you are. Let me call for tea.’
‘The last time we met, you mentioned your preference for Caribbean music. I have brought a couple of them for you.’ Tim placed the CDs on the wicker table.
‘That’s very thoughtful of you.’ She picked up the discs and read the titles. ‘How did you know that Harry Belafonte is my favourite?’
‘He’s my favourite, too.’ He smiled indulgently.
‘Tim, you are a darling,’ she whispered in her sexy voice. ‘I have never met anyone like you.’
The clink of cups and saucers, as Durgabai fussed around arranging the tea tray, interrupted his trail of thought.
Ramola threw a biscuit at Dim, who caught it mid-air and waited for more.
‘He’s a cutie pie,’ she petted the dog’s shoulders and gave him another biscuit.
‘Dim is a lazy glutton. The veterinarian has advised exercise but the foolish dog refuses to run.’
‘I will take him for a walk one morning. It may sound like bragging but I have a way with dogs.’
‘Why a single morning, you are welcome to take him every day.’
‘So, what do you do in spare time?’ she asked, stroking Dim’s fur.
‘I love reading. Besides, I go to the gym every day.’
‘What kind of books do you like to read?’
‘I like thrillers. They go well with my line of work, I guess.’
‘Don’t overdo the crime stuff,’ she laughed. ‘Try some romance for a diversion.
‘I have enough of them in my library.’
He wasn’t sure, but Tim detected an innuendo in her suggestion. Blushing, he mumbled, ‘Maybe I will.’
Ramola continued to bait and lead. Her statements were loaded with hidden meaning, but Tim could never be sure.
Did she love him? It didn’t matter. For the present, he was happy to wallow in dreams.