“I love you,” I blurted out. I hadn’t realized until then how strongly I felt about her. But the moment I said it, I knew I needed to tell her; she needed to hear it.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
“We will be together, Nimmi. You must trust me.”
28
LAKSHMI
Jaipur
I watch Niki’s cricket game from the front seat of the Agarwals’ car. On the sidelines of the cricket patch, Malik stands next to Kanta, cheering Niki on. I watch my nephew as he cleverly skirts the second spin bowl to cross the pitch. He’s good at this game. Jay is the cricket fan in our house, but I’m thinking I could learn to love this game, too.
After the maharanis visited the Royal Jewel Cinema yesterday, Manu told us that Maharani Latika has given Singh-Sharma Construction three days to shore up the balcony and open up all the columns for inspection, even the ones they recently rebuilt and plastered. Almost immediately, Manu lost his look of defeat, growing hopeful that he would be vindicated. He’s returned to work. The tension in the Agarwal household has dissipated. Niki will be returning to school tomorrow.
It’s early evening and the sun has eased its relentless assault, giving way to a sweet breeze. Once again, Malik has settled me in the car with a thermos of creamy chai.
Earlier today, I called Jay with the update. He had news of his own. Yesterday, he’d called up his alma mater, Bishop Cotton, and asked if there were any high-ranking police commissioners among the alumni. Turns out there is one in Chandigarh. Jay called to tell him about the gold we’d found on the sheep. The deputy commissioner said they’d been hoping for a break like this because they’d been looking for a link to Chandigarh Ironworks, which they’d been watching for a while. Within a day, the commissioner had arranged for the Canara offices to be raided. They were able to seize a shipment of gold. But they weren’t able to get the names of the traffickers.
“Would that include Ravi Singh?” I asked.
“Yes, but the paper trail is not clean. They won’t be able to make it stick.”
“At least Nimmi is safe now, hahn-nah?”
He said yes. Nimmi had returned to working in the Healing Garden but her children were still staying at the convent during the day, and all three of them were sleeping there at night, at least until I came home.
What a relief that had been. When I told Malik, he bent down to touch my feet, which made me laugh! Jay is the real hero here, though. I think of that one unruly lock of hair that never behaves, the one I love to push back into place.
I’m so absorbed in my thoughts that I don’t hear the back door of the car opening and closing.
“Like father, like son.”
Samir’s voice in my ear almost makes me upend the cup of chai in my hands. My heart is hammering in my chest, my fingers shaking. I crane my neck around to see him perched on the back seat, his elbows now resting on the top of the front seat. His face is inches from mine.
He’s smiling at me with those marble-brown eyes of his, amused by my confusion. The scent of his cigarettes, the cardamom seeds he chews and his sweet aftershave fill the car. I haven’t been this close to Samir in twelve years. I sensed his eyes on me when we were at the Royal Jewel Cinema with the maharanis, but I refused to look at him. His family has once again tried to damage those I love.
But Samir has a palpable energy that’s hard to ignore when he’s this close. Is my heart beating this wildly from fear or excitement? I used to wonder what it would be like to kiss those brown lips, the lower lip exposing a crescent of pink inside. And then, one day, I found out.
“Why are you here?” I manage to ask when I’ve found my voice.
“Same reason you are.” He lifts a finger to point to the game. “Did you know I never missed one of Ravi’s games at Mayo? I taught both my boys in the backyard. Ravi had the same natural confidence as Niki. In a split second, he knew if the ball was worth hitting or missing. And sometimes, even when he knew he should give it a miss, he’d strike. And, would you believe it, Lakshmi, he’d hit it dead-on. Score a point or two.”
Snap! A roar goes up from the crowd on the sidelines. I turn around to look at the field. Niki has scored. I see Malik put two fingers in his mouth to whistle. Kanta’s arms are raised above her head in a clap.
Samir is speaking again. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Ralph Waldo Emerson said that in 1839. But I think it’s been true since time immemorial, don’t you? Niki Agarwal has Ravi’s build. He’s the same height as Ravi was at that age. And the way he runs! It’s almost like watching Ravi lope across the field.”
So Kanta had not imagined Samir watching Niki play at the cricket grounds. He’s worked it out. He knows Niki is Ravi’s son. Is Radha’s son.
If we hadn’t lied to the palace and to Samir about the baby’s heartbeat, Niki would now be the crown prince and the next maharaja of Jaipur. But telling them his heartbeat was too slow was the only way we could nullify the palace adoption and Radha could keep her baby.
How had Samir found out about my lie?
“When did you learn?” I say it slowly, so I don’t betray my nervousness.
My gaze is still focused on the game, but from the corner of my eye, I see his chin rest on his closed fist. His stance is so relaxed we could be talking about the weather.
“I stopped by last summer. Happened to see him playing. I was feeling nostalgic for my old life. Before my boys were full grown. When Ravi used to play cricket here. Back when I was just an architect designing the buildings I wanted to build. Before I got into the big business of construction. Before you suggested the Singhs marry into the Sharma family.” He turns his head ever so slightly so that I can now feel his breath on my cheek.
I shift in my seat, leaning against the passenger door now, so I can see him better. Or perhaps to get away from the nearness of him. “You seemed happy enough to make the business and personal connection, if I remember correctly.” I’m relieved to be off the topic of Niki.
“Oh, I was. I just didn’t know then what it would ultimately lead to.”
“Meaning?”
“I thought what a great opportunity it was to expand,” Samir says now. “So my sons could join my business as architects, builders, engineers—whatever they wanted. I’d planned for Govind to join us when he finished his schooling in the States. I could leave the boys my business as a legacy.” He sounds wistful.
“Well, isn’t that what’s happened? Ravi works with you. And Govind—when is he coming back from America?” I can no longer hear the game. It’s as if every cell of my being is tuned only to Samir’s voice.