Things between me and Debjani did not improve. It must have been written in stars that we should be at loggerheads. Two days after her arrival, Mr. Roychowdhuri had to go away to settle some plantation-related work. He had taken one of the plantation vehicles with him and his jeep was left behind. He was to be away only for a few hours, but a neighbor’s child did not wait for him to come back before he fractured his arm while playing in the fields. The boy’s parents rushed to our house to seek help. He needed to be taken to the hospital and no vehicle was available.

“Protim is not here. We can’t do anything,” Debjani declared.

“But his jeep is here. Do you know how to drive it, Uncle?” I asked the neighbor.

His brother did.

“You can’t just give his jeep away,” Debjani was incredulous and furious.

I had the same scruples, but the child was howling in pain and her utter disregard for the his condition drove me to stubbornness. “Let him decide what I can or cannot do in his house,” I told her and gave the keys to the child’s father.

But as soon as they had driven the child away, the dread set in. I had overstepped my boundaries. It wasn’t for me to decide. I didn’t run the house. How good a driver the boy’s uncle was? What if something happened to the jeep? What would Debjani tell him? What would he think of me? What would he do to me? Would he be mad enough to throw me out?

As the time for his return neared, I grew more frantic with worry. Finally I decided confess my mistakes to him before anyone else opened their mouths.

He frowned when he saw me waiting where the mud-road leading to the house met the main road. He got down from the vehicle and sent others away.

“Is something wrong?”

I gulped hard. “Poorna, your neighbor’s child, was hurt. They needed to take him to the hospital. I gave them the keys to your jeep. I am sorry.”

“If the child fine?”

“It was a broken arm. But I don’t know. They aren’t back yet.”

“You were waiting here to tell me about the child’s broken arm?”

“About your jeep. I just… couldn’t refuse. His uncle is driving it.”

He laughed. His crude, loud, unselfconscious laugh. And this time I could not help smiling.

“Come. Walk back with me.”

On reaching home, he made quite a show of calling the father, asking after the child’s health and offering them any help they may need. The effort was hilarious because of his broken Kannada. But it settled the matter. Debjani never opened her mouth.

Protim

It was insane what I was doing. Juvenile, immature. But I was desperate. I took leave from the university and spent the entire week at home. I flirted shamelessly with Debjani, much to my aunt’s delight. But she wasn’t the one I was concerned with. I made sure that Sarah was around us whenever I complimented Debjani, or said something to make her laugh. Annie was a willing, though unaware accomplice. All I had to do was to ask her to be around me, and she made sure to bring her favorite Sarah Auntie along. If Sarah tried to escape, I made sure Annie won’t let her. Despite her best efforts at avoiding eating with us I made her have all her meals with us at the table. My aunt scowled whenever she saw Sarah at the table, but she knew better than to say anything.

Despite my keeping a hawk-eye on her, she slipped away that day. Something caught in my throat when I realized that. Could I have overdone it? Had my guests insulted her? Had I? I excused myself and discreetly went upstairs to her room. It was unlocked as usual, but she was not inside. I dashed out of the back door into the plantation and called her name out loud. I won’t be heard inside the house, but if she was there, strolling in the overgrown grass, she couldn’t have helped hearing me. I moved about frantically until I heard a soft sob. As I looked in the direction of the voice, I knew where she was. I made my way towards her. She must have heard me approach, because she suddenly stood upright. It was the same spot where I had met her on her first morning in this house. She had wiped her tears, but her swollen, red eyes betrayed her crying.

“Sarah. What happened?”

“Nothing. I was feeling suffocated, so I decided to take a stroll.”

“And you didn’t think it necessary to tell me that you were going out?”

“Do I need you permission to step out of the house now?”

“I was worried, Sarah.”

“Don’t be. I am an adult. I can look after myself.”

“Yeah? Why did you run away then?” What was I doing? I had to woo her, not drive her away with my boorishness.

“Mr. Roychowdhury!” she hissed and gave me dagger eyes.

The approach of plantation workers at that moment interrupted our little tete-a-tete, though. The interruption also brought her back to her usual self and she strode towards the house to avoid further confrontation.

“We are not done yet,” I was talking to her back, “I am not going to create a scene in front of my workers or staff. But we are not done yet.”

She heard, she did not stop, she did not even look back!

—

Sarah

What did he think he was doing? He was going to marry Debjani. Chanda had told me as much. Mrs. Roychowdhury was her trusted source. Why did he have to torture me so by not letting me stay away? Was he trying to prove something to me? Had he found out how I felt about him? Did he want to exorcise me out of my impossible dreams? Well, he didn’t need to. I wasn’t dreaming. I just wanted to stay away!

As if my employer had not created enough upheaval in my life, I was informed by Kaveri that I had a call from Home of Hope. Father Jacob was unwell, probably breathing his last, and he had been asking for me. Whatever else happened in my life, nothing was more important than Father Jacob. My life, my sense of identity, my very existence was linked with him. I had to go to Mr. Roychowdhury and ask for his leave to go to Bangalore.

—

To be continued