Lost in Glad More Garden

 

Andrew Burnett was the least likely man to make a mid-career change to write Gothic novels.  He preferred reading spy thrillers and wouldn’t have picked up the novel with its lurid cover and title had it not lain on the empty train seat next to him. The story line was unlike his usual fare, it captivated him and he started reading more books of the same genre.

He felt emboldened to try his hand at writing on similar themes. It was easier said than done and the rejection slips weighed him down. Such was his wish to succeed that he enrolled online in creative writing skills but it was to no avail. He had almost decided to give up when an advertisement encouraged his aspirations. It was a competition for a short story and the winner’s entry would be published in the magazine Gothic World.

He couldn’t believe his luck but this win steadily set him on a literary path. It wasn’t a rapid rise but he persevered and honed his craft. In order to remain relevant and sales worthy, he followed what his peers were writing and what the reading public wanted.  He worked diligently on all fronts to maintain his position and popularity.

 Andrew had chosen the nom de plume of Rupert Knight as a more appropriate moniker for a writer of romance and adventure. Very few knew that Andrew and Rupert Knight were the same person and he zealously guarded his privacy and preferred to remain an enigma.

One of Andrew’s publishers had given him a ticket to attend a literary meet in India. He was pleased to know that he was popular in India but unsure about travelling the distance. His Aunts Betty and Anna who had raised him helped him decide. He wanted to gift them a holiday that was different from their annual seaside stay.

“Why don’t we all go together? You can do a bit of sightseeing while I’m busy and then maybe we can have a short vacation together.”

Betty was hesitant, “We did go there once and it wasn’t enjoyable.”

“I wasn’t aware. When was this?”

“It was a long time ago before you came to live with us”, said Clara.

“Since we are going so far it would be a good idea to see my childhood home.”

 They spoke together almost without thinking, “Andrew, it isn’t always wise to revisit the past.”

Andrew made up his mind that they would travel together and the visit to his childhood home would be the surprise ending.

The flight was tiring but on arrival the old ladies were bowled over by the organizers’ hospitality. After the wet English weather the warmth of the tropical sun, the colorful sights, and the shopping won their hearts. This wasn’t the India of their memories and they were happy that Andrew had overruled them.

There were still a few days remaining of what Andrew termed as a “holiday” and they would be flying to another part of the country.

“Thank you. We are glad that we came along and had such a good time,” said Anna.

“We are going to spend a few days in Glad More Tea Estate. You’ll see how much it has changed. They have started a hotel as well as growing tea.”

Both the sisters were at a loss for words, their palms were sweaty and their mouths too dry to speak. Andrew sensed their unease but couldn’t figure out the reason. Betty gathered her wits, “What do you remember about Glad More?”

“Not much. I can remember Mum and Dad and Lucy and….”

“You remember Lucy?”

“She died and all of us came away from India.”

Neither of the aunts spoke and they drove the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.

Glad More had changed; it looked inviting with charming cottages and gardens while tea was still being cultivated on some of the slopes.  Betty and Anna could only manage a quick glance at the surroundings before they hurried in to their room to have an urgent discussion.  

Anna had a definite opinion, “Andrew doesn’t remember much. Why let the past weigh him down.”

“I agree. But he won’t forgive us if he hears a local or a hotel staff’s story.”

“The tea plantation is no longer the same and I don’t think there would be any old timers who would know or recognize us. Andrew is middle aged and we are old.”

“No Anna, we must tell him and there can be no two accounts. In any case we weren’t there when it happened and believed Peter’s version of what may have happened that morning.”

“I will support what you say but please remember that I didn’t and still don’t think it is necessary.”

Andrew had walked around the hotel grounds, visited the hotel office to enquire if records existed about the previous layout and then gone on to visit his aunts. He found them sitting in the verandah, facing the garden and recovering from the flight and the long car trip.

“Would you like some tea?  Have you walked around the grounds?”

“Yes I did and it is well set up. Tomorrow I plan to see the area where we lived. The hotel has been constructed at a lower level. I must tell you about a cat that is haunting me…….

Betty thought it best to finish what was foremost on her mind. “Andrew, there is something that we need to share with you. Maybe we should have disclosed it earlier but the time wasn’t ever right.

Nobody knows what happened to your sister Lucy.”

Betty’s words were too much to comprehend and Andrew almost choked, “Is Lucy alive? “  

Anna looked away and Betty wondered how she could describe what happened on that day.

“Please remember that we were not present when this happened. I can only tell you what your father told us.

It was early in the morning and Lucy had decided to play in the garden. She was about nine years old and she had been warned not to wander beyond the front lawn. Nobody knows what made her go to what was known as the Echo Point as it was on a rocky ledge on much higher ground. Lucy had a pet cat Tippy and she might have followed him without realizing that she had strayed away from the house.

Lucy’s absence was first noticed at breakfast and there was no trace of her by the time the house and the gardens had been searched. The police were informed, special teams employed to investigate not only the estates but the adjoining countryside.

There were rumors that she was kidnapped but no ransom notes appeared. Also a white child walking by herself couldn’t go far without being unnoticed. How far could she have walked on hilly terrain? The current belief was that she had lost her footing and had fallen to the narrow gorge that lay below.”

“How did they conclude that my sister had fallen below? Were there any signs?”

“Sadly there were no footmarks, not a scrap of clothing, just nothing at all except that Tippy was sitting midway on the stumpy apple tree near the railing of Echo Point. “

 Clara had a nervous breakdown, cried incessantly and blamed herself. Peter called us and we flew out as soon as possible. I can’t even recall how long we stayed here. The tragedy took Clara’s life too as she didn’t live for long. Peter also lost interest after Clara’s death and died a lonely man.”

He guessed his aunts had tried to shield him as a child from the grim news but even after all these years it was both unacceptable and horrific.

Andrew tried to absolve his aunts, “Both of you did a marvelous job of looking after me. My parents should have told me but they were no longer there when I was growing up.

Do you know any details about Tippy since people believed that he saw the accident?”

“Lucy was fond of animals but Tippy was special because he followed her everywhere. He was a tortoiseshell tomcat and would hiss if strangers came too close to her.  I can’t be sure but your parents had arranged for Tippy’s care.”

Next morning Andrew went to the hotel office, “May I have the directions to the bungalow where the plantation manager lived? Do you have a cat that lives near the cottages?”

He was advised, “Sir the bungalow is abandoned and closed to the public. The hotel manager has pet dogs but there are no cats.”

Andrew was determined but a double fence of barbed wire denied him entry. He decided that he would try his luck at Echo Point and it was then that the cat’s mewing became louder, it was almost hissing around him.  His foot hit a broken step and he could detect a creature circling around his feet.

It was unnerving to say the least and he decided to retrace his steps. . As he came nearer to the cottages, there was a flash and a loud hiss and a moment later as if nothing had followed him.

May be his aunts were right that Glad More Tea Gardens didn’t wish to welcome the Burnett family.  He decided not to mention any of this to his aunts who were already hyped up.

 Andrew incorporated it in his next popular novel about a haunted house, a magical cat and dark dense jungles.

 

 

 

 

The Brown Book

 

Bleary eyed and hoping that the train hadn’t left Renu rushed to the station that would take her to the end of her project. The company that had commissioned her had made all the travel arrangements and this last leg was to be completed by road. It was her mother’s suggestion, “Why don’t you take the daily train that the mines used to transport people from the main station. “

“The mines have closed down and the train tracks might be in disuse.”

Her mother sighed, “My father was an engineer who pioneered the laying of some of the tracks in that area. As children we could accompany him in his inspection saloon and it would be parked at a siding. Once in a while we could get a joy ride on the Millstone Mines goods train as it was mostly used for moving stones.”

“The mines have been inoperative but now the owners want to earn money from the vast tracts of land that they own. “

“We visited one or two of the mines and they had small townships. The managers had large bungalows set in manicured gardens and there were many facilities for the families.”

 Renu was dismissive, “Staff had to be compensated for living in the wilderness.”

“It was a long road trip that conveyed people from the nearest railway junction. What are their plans as there are deep quarry lakes and mining ruined the surrounding areas.”

“Through the years the roads had been widened and time has allowed Nature to take its course. The forests are coming back and it is impressive. The owners want to repair the disused buildings and market it as a Nature resort.”

“Do the train trip if possible and come back by road. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I’ll enquire and if possible give it a try if the train service is still available.”

Renu followed up her mother’s tip and called the office. She spoke to her travel coordinator Mr. Singh, “Could I take the train to the mines and return by car.”

Mr. Singh sounded hesitant, “The railway connection from the siding is for transportation of goods and there are no provisions for passengers. The company has booked cars for your visit.”

“As a part of the project I want to look at the train route to the mines. It would help if you could find a way out.”

A couple of days later Mr. Singh called, “There is a passenger train that runs biweekly from Charghat to Sathpera and from there it is a short drive to the mines.”

The stress of constant travel and surveying new places had taken its toll on Renu. She was relieved that the company had sent somebody to meet her at Charghat.

Mr. Gajdev welcomed Renu and said, “I’m sorry but you will have to hurry as the train will leave in a few minutes and the first class cabin is at the front.  It mostly goes unoccupied so you should be safe.” 

There was a warning whistle and she barely managed to board the train as it chugged out of the station.  The floor wasn’t too clean and she decided to stow her bag on the overhead rack. It was then that she noticed the man sitting in the corner seat. He was neatly dressed and his face was hidden by a book. He didn’t even look up once to acknowledge her presence.

Renu was grateful that her co passenger was silent and she didn’t have to make any effort making inane conversation. The view outside captured her attention as the trees that bordered the tracks were lit up with the blazing glory of the Spring flowers. The landscape rushing by and the slow rhythm of the wheels were almost hypnotic and her eyes closed slowly with much needed sleep.

Renu woke up with a jolt as the train screeched to a stop. She was reassured that Satphera was still some time away. The short snooze had refreshed her and she glanced around to check on her fellow traveler. He must have got down while she was asleep. She was alone and it might be prudent to check her belongings. Luckily nothing appeared to be missing or disturbed. She noticed a book covered in brown paper next to her bags.

 Renu couldn’t recollect if he was carrying any luggage. The man hadn’t taken his eyes off for a minute from his reading. Had he forgotten it or purposely left the book behind? Curiosity got the better of her and she decided to pick it up. It lay firmly stuck between the slats in the overhead rack. No amount of pulling or pushing allowed her to extricate it. Her fingers were bruised but the book lay embedded within the slats. The useless attempts left her frustrated and she wondered why she was so keen to see the contents of the book.

Alighting at Satphera Renu noticed that the book was nowhere in sight. May be her efforts hadn’t gone in vain and the book had fallen to the ground. A cursory glance told her that the book wasn’t on the floor. She had run out of time and would have to let it go.

Back home Renu said, “If the company does a good job of restoration then Millstone Mines can be an attractive proposition.”

Her mother asked, “How was the train journey?”

“I was too exhausted and was asleep for the better part but I had a strange experience.”

“Was it crowded?”

 “There was only one man who left while I was asleep. He was noticeably silent and reading a book that covered his face. The funniest part was that he left……”

Renu was cut short midway by her mother rolling her eyes, “You had a ghost sitting on the other seat.  It was Mr. Rao reading a book with a brown cover…”

“What nonsense he was human. It was the book. How did you know that it had a brown cover?

“As usual you don’t allow me to complete my sentence. Mr. Rao was a Millstone Mine employee who was on this train and his dead body was found on the railway tracks. Some people said he had been bumped off and others claimed he had taken his own life. The day he died he was holding on tightly to a book that wasn’t found after his death.  Many believed that it contained incriminating evidence against some staff members. Others said it was his daughter’s diary and he was out to get her for carrying on with a local hoodlum. Whatever it might be but there was a prolonged search that proved fruitless.”

The unexpected information left Renu at a loss for words. She tried to remember details about Mr. Rao but all she could recollect was the book that shielded him from prying eyes.

“Do you know that the book lay on the luggage rack even after he disappeared?”

”Exactly, it is as if he is provoking the living to find out what lay between the covers. There are some who rise to the bait and try and the book disappears.”

Renu sat quietly trying to recreate the scene from memory and smiled wryly, “I tried my hardest, bruised my fingers but the book remained stuck between the slats.”

“I hope your fingers weren’t badly hurt.  How many times have I warned you not to touch unknown objects specially in public places? I hope you’ve learnt your lesson.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Kathy

 

City roads required Bella’s patience and attention as she constantly swerved, sped or stopped abruptly while driving in the more congested part of the old city. When they stopped at the traffic lights, she glanced at her mother Uma , sitting stiffly but straight backed and trying to connect the present with the fast retreating landmarks of the past. The next few minutes required a practiced eye and a steady hand as Bela held her breath and maneuvered through the narrow twisting lane while Uma bright eyed and impatient declared, “Home at last after so many years.”  

“Wait don’t start leaping up the stairs. I don’t want to call for an ambulance.”  

 Uma frowned as she saw a padlocked door barring entrance to the rooms. “When did this happen?”

“I did to stop the others from occupying your property.”

The wide verandah was no longer open but enclosed with iron grilles and the windows shuttered and locked. Bela hoped that Uma would be discouraged by the dark musty rooms and not venture inside. “The rooms are empty, all the furniture has been removed and the windows can’t be opened. Have a look from outside and then we can leave.”

Uma realized that this would probably be her last visit before the house was handed over to the developers. Paying no attention to Bela’s words, she wandered through the rooms and saw the dusty outline of a small writing table.

“I think that is the desk from my schooldays. It had a couple of drawers and I can make out that there is something inside. Please see if you can get it out.”

Disappointed and angry Uma refused to move until Bela did her bidding.  Walking gingerly in fear of stepping on creepy crawlies, Bela pulled open the drawer and found an old framed picture.

 Bela tried to be as conciliatory as possible, “There is nothing else to retrieve. Let us go home before the traffic starts getting heavy.”

Uma surveyed the steep staircase, dragged her feet, reluctant to leave. She wasn’t curious about what Bela had rescued from the desk.

 It took more than a gentle nudge to finally reach the gate. As anticipated, Bela’s fears about the traffic proved real.  Traffic continued to be slow but Uma didn’t complain and stared at the photograph. 

“Ma, are you feeling unwell? Was the visit too painful?”

Uma looked up, her eyes brimming, “The camera has captured and preserved them even though they are long gone.”

“The dust and grime hasn’t stopped you from recognizing them?”

Uma was incensed,” Why? This is my mother Charu and her best friend Miss Kathy.”

“Interesting to know that Didima had an English friend?”

“Miss Kathy was not British but could pass off for one.  They were an almost unbeatable duo and the best athletes the school had in many years.”

 “You always bragged about your mother’s culinary skills. I don’t recollect you mentioning all these achievements.”

“Don’t be facetious.  Miss Kathy and my mother were school friends. Ma not only spoke English well but enjoyed and excelled in sports.  Unfortunately, an early marriage in to a conservative family put an end to her sporting activities.”

“Did you call her Miss Kathy?”

 “Miss Kathy wished to be called only by her first name but that didn’t seem respectful so everybody old and young addressed her as Miss Kathy.

Miss Kathy visited us when she came to play basketball matches in the city. After finishing her schooling, she had trained as a secretary and worked in a well-known company. As a good basketball player Miss Kathy represented her company and also participated in other tournaments.”

 “Did you want to follow a career in sports?”

“Miss Kathy influenced my mother to put me in a school where sport was a part of the regular routine. When I was in school, she was my biggest cheer leader, would  give me tips and try to attend the annual sports day.  

She noticed that I was better than the average badminton player and found out about coaches and facilities that could provide the necessary training to not only compete in tournaments but to win. “

Bela was surprised as Uma rarely mentioned her own achievements on the badminton court or had lately shown such animation about anyone or any topic. 

“Now I can understand why you were keen for all of us to give equal importance to sports as well as academics. We were good but not toppers.”

“Miss Kathy kept me grounded and was so persistent that I didn’t want to fail her or my mother who was a silent but strong supporter.”

Reliving her past and visiting her family home had tired out Uma and she hadn’t noticed that they were back home.

As they went indoors, Bela handed an envelope to Uma. “This is in your maiden name and was delivered to your family house. It has been sent by a Ms. Corinne Lynd with an address in Niazpur. Do you know anybody by that name?”

Uma’s hands were trembling so much that she passed it unopened. “After so many years somebody from Miss Kathy Lynd’s family wants to get in touch with me. It is not possible for me to go through the contents. You read it.”

Bela noticed Uma’s overwrought appearance, “Ma, there can’t be any bad news. Miss Kathy could possibly be no longer alive. Sit down and let me see what is written.”  

Dear Uma Sen,

I hope my letter doesn’t come as to much of a surprise .

This year Albert Memorial will be celebrating its one hundred and twenty fifth foundation day. A prize has been planned to honor Charu Bose and Kathy Lynd and the committee would greatly appreciate if you along with a member of the Lynd family would give it away.

 Charu Bose and one of my grand aunts Kathy Lynd were school mates in Albert Memorial School in Niazpur. They were the first to win the championship shield for inter school sports for three consecutive years. It was a rare feat and hasn’t been achieved very often in the school’s history.

 I was able to trace your name and address from a letter written by you to Kathy Lynd and am hopeful that this will reach you.

  I would be happy to hear from you along with a confirmation about your plans.

Regards

Corinne Lynd

Enclosure: School Invitation.

 

Uma was at a loss for words and kept on looking at the photograph. Finally she said, “All along I felt that Ma and Miss Kathy were trying to tell me something. Yes I will attend the prize giving ceremony and institute a rolling trophy in their names for the best girl athlete for the school year.

Bela I will need your help to design the trophy and to accompany me to Niazpur.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THe Nativity Play

 

It was Christmas Eve, the streets were festooned with colored streamers, stars and other ornaments. Work was slow Amal and Rumi chose to take time off to collect some medical reports from the hospital before the celebrations began.

They arrived early only to find a long line had snaked its way out from the waiting hall to the long corridor. Barely had they managed to squeeze a place on the bench when Amal felt a hand on his shoulder. His first thought was that he wouldn’t give up his place but it was a woman’s voice, “I need to go out urgently for a few minutes.” 

The woman disappeared thrusting a soft bundle in his lap. It was an infant who beamed back with a beatific smile. Amal prodded Rumi, “I‘ve been left holding a baby.” Rumi looked around nervously, “Where is this woman. We need to return the baby. You know how suspicious people are and will imagine we are kidnappers.”

 “Calm down. You always imagine the worst? After all it’s her baby.”

 Rumi got up and started scanning the room before there could be any trouble. Their names had been called and Amal transferred the bundle to Rumi and rushed to meet the doctor.

By then the crowds had thinned but the woman was still nowhere around. “The baby has to be returned to some responsible authority,” urged Rumi. Amal realized the gravity of the situation and walked towards one of the hospital staff manning the gates.

 The guard was suspicious as soon as he heard that they were not the caregivers. “This is a serious matter not to be taken lightly at all. You should go immediately to the help desk at the main office.”

 The office was overcrowded there were people milling around the desks and outshouting one another. Confused by the turn of events Amal didn’t know exactly whom to approach. Finally he found an empty space in front of one of the desks and asked hesitantly. “A woman asked me to mind her baby for a bit but she hasn’t returned. Where should we deposit the baby?”

The man at the desk was taken aback, “What made you do this? Are you in your right mind?  The police can take you in to custody. You look educated, haven’t you read messages warning people not to accept anything from strangers?”

Rumi replied crossly, “This is a baby and not a package. It was shoved in to our lap.”

“We aren’t equipped to deal with such matters. There is a police station outside the gates and it would be advisable to report at the earliest.”

The infant who had been sleeping blissfully unaware about all the confusion it had caused decided to wake up and announce its presence with a shrill cry that pierced through the surrounding din. All conversation was temporarily silenced. Red in the face, Rumi struggled with the infant that had changed to a wriggly and noisy creature. One of the by standers advised them, “Go to the children’s ward. The nurses there may be of help. Most probably the child is hungry.”

 Unable to calm the baby, they ran towards the hospital and hoped to leave it with some responsible authority.

Amal admitted “What if the police are suspicious and lock us up?” In a hurry and breathless they almost collided with a woman who stood midway on the steps. She took the weeping infant and held on to Amal’s hand. “Where did you disappear?”

“What do you mean? You are the one who vanished without a word.”

 “I didn’t think I would be gone for so long and it would be close to feeding time.”  

Rumi prodded Amal, “Time to go. We have had enough drama for one day.”  

The woman looked sheepish and sounded apologetic, “Don’t get angry. I didn’t realize that it would take so long to meet the doctor. I was running late and had to ask my husband to take my niece for the Christmas play. He has a fruit stall near the gate but wasn’t there. All this took more time than expected and I was delayed.”  

Rumi was surprised by the woman’s reaction, “How did you choose to leave your child with us? The baby could be missing and lost forever?” 

“True I took a chance as you looked honest and decent not people with evil intentions.”

 Amal’s confidence in his fellow beings people was restored. In her hour of need, the woman hadn’t doubted the innate goodness of those around her. Mother and child were united and the baby nursed in silent contentment.

They hurried down the stairs and walked towards the parking area. Rumi heard a child’s cries that sounded familiar and it was the woman trying to balance a heavy bag and the infant.  She looked over her shoulder, Much against her better sense, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the woman flustered and smiling weakly.

 Rumi asked, “Should we give her a lift up to the gate?” 

“Are you sure she won’t saddle us with that shrieking creature?”

Rumi turned around and signaled and the woman was quick to follow. “We can drop you up to the gate as it is a long walk from here.”  The woman climbed in with her bag and belongings and as they neared the exit she interrupted, “I have to go to the building next to the church across the road. The traffic is heavy and it would help if you could drop me there.”

“You are not shy to ask are you?” said Rumi.

 “It isn’t really far away and you offered me a lift. My son has been selected to play the role of infant Jesu. My niece is one of the angels.  If you take me to the church hall then you can also watch the play.”

Rumi couldn’t get over the mother’s laid back attitude but Amal readily accepted the invitation. Rumi wasn’t keen but Amal stopped her midway. “May be it is her way of being contrite. It is Christmas Eve and the season for goodwill and peace. In any case we are late and another few minutes won’t make much difference.”

They entered the hall and the curtains opened on to a nativity scene and before long the infant started to cry. There was some confusion on the stage but a substitute was most probably being arranged.

 Rumi whispered,” It is a sign from heaven asking us to leave.”

 Amal sighed, “We were lucky that nothing untoward happened or we could have been in big trouble.”

”Did you learn a lesson? You must learn to be mindful. I guess you have realized that we escaped without any damage.”

Amal smiled quietly and was happy that random acts of kindness didn’t necessarily end in disaster

 

While on their way home Amal mentioned,” We got so caught up in all that rigmarole that we forgot to look at the test reports.”

 “I did and now it is our turn to announce and celebrate.”

 

 

  

The Home Chefs

 

Parul’s family couldn’t fathom her fretting about a situation that should not and did not involve her.

“Is it interfering with your job?” asked her husband.

Parul snapped back, “I don’t expect any one of you to understand but her family is the limit as they have turned a blind eye to the old lady’s affairs.”

“Is she carrying on with that man,” piped in Manju’s daughter.

“Mind your language. Remember Didi is much older than you.”

“Come on Ma. Where do you think the television shows get their story lines?”

Lost for words Parul stomped out of the room.

 The person causing such anxiety was Parul’s dignified elderly employer Manju Sen, the experienced, wise householder who had transformed her from a novice house maid to an accomplished cook.

The Sens were one of the oldest residents in this quiet middle class neighborhood and Manju was not only much loved but respected. Now it would all change, the family would lose its standing and good name because of this upstart Mr. Dey who had stealthily bought his way in to Manju’s heart. He had found an easy entry with his ever ready smile and ubiquitous lap top while he guided and traced her fingers on the keyboard. Manju giggled and joked and escorted by Mr. Dey was   away from home at unknown destinations.

 Outings with Mr. Dey took precedence over routine appointments like lunches for her bridge playing friends, her social work clubs and other visits. Parul not only missed her employer’s presence, her daily interactions but above all she was genuinely worried that Manju Sen was hurtling towards her doom. It was frustrating that after all these years of hero worshipping to see somebody behaving so foolishly.

Could she broach this problem with the family? Manju’s son and daughter in law were a fleeting presence during Parul’s working hours. The couple was forever in perpetual motion running to meet schedules. The only other person was Manju’s grandson Monty who was equally challenging to meet unless he wanted a snack.

  Monty was not only young but the most pampered of Manju’s grandsons and might not be the appropriate choice to voice her concerns.

Indecision wouldn’t solve matters but she would try her luck with the junior most in the family.  Parul approached Monty, balancing a plate of freshly fried chips and steaming cups of coffee. His girlfriend Tanya was as usual draped elegantly in her favorite armchair and remarked, “Your radar is fine tuned to Monty’s stomach.”

Deciding that she wouldn’t be riled, Parul looked Monty in the eye, “Have you noticed that Didi isn’t around during the day?”

“Must be busy playing cards, chatting or visiting? Do you personally need to speak to Didi? I could call her up if there is a kitchen crisis?”

 “I don’t know where to begin but Mr. Dey has been coming almost every day and then there’s the business with the computer and lot of laughing and teasing.  Both of them are out for the day and often not even home for lunch. Her head has been turned by that glib talker.

If it continues like this I may have to hand in my notice. Soon we will be the talk of the town.”

Monty as usual was nonchalant about Parul’s concern, “May be Didi is bored of all these ancient kitties that party and gossip.

 The old lady is too savvy to let anybody take her for a ride. In all these years I haven’t succeeded in pulling the wool over her eyes. She is often the first one to catch me out but also may be the only one who can see through me.

 Good things don’t last for long. When you are together you are either disagreeing or complaining. Just relax and be happy that for the time being you are in full control of the kitchen.”

 Monty was dismissive and paid scant attention to Parul’s words. It was so typical of Monty not to even give her a careful hearing. Though Tanya recognized Parul’s anxieties and told her, “If it is bothering you so much then speak to Monty’s mother. Hope fully she might find a solution.”

  The only person left to appeal was Manju’s daughter in law Rita. The topic might be delicate but necessary given that not only the family but more so Manju’s reputation was at stake.  Parul mustered courage and resolved to speak her mind. But as she handed Rita her morning cup of tea she could not find the right words to express the situation.

 “I have something to say….”

  “What is it?  You can’t get another loan. You just got one last month?”

“No uh not money…”

 Weekday mornings weren’t meant for slow moving conversation, “If it is leave you better clear it with Ma. She is the one who runs the home. I’m already running late.”

Rita’s parting words clearly indicated that the discussion was over for the time being. May be Parul’s family was right and she should stop getting so worked up.

The next few days saw Manju busier than usual while Parul was being driven crazier by Mr.Dey’s prolonged presence. So it was totally unforeseen when Manju instructed Parul, “Tomorrow I need you to accompany me. Please be neatly dressed and inform your family that you will be staying back for the night.

 I know it is at short notice but no excuses as it is important that you are here.”

All this went over Parul’s head so she asked, “Are we going out of town?  I don’t know if my husband will agree.”

 Manju was in no mood for explanations and was explicit and unlike her usual self said tersely, “Don’t be late. We will leave by ten thirty in the morning.”

 

“It’ll be impossible to finish all the cooking.”

“Leave everything to me. Follow my instructions and that will be enough.”

Next morning Mr. Dey transported them in his car through city streets unknown to Parul until he pulled up in front of a well maintained building. Instead of entering through the highly polished main doors they turned in to a yard that led to the rear of the house. As Mr. Dey held open the door for the two women, Parul caught a glimpse of people working in a well-appointed kitchen. 

Before she could pose any questions, Manju beckoned her to one corner.” You will only fry the starters but you will observe how the rest of the cooking is done. There are people who will help with the ingredients for your dish. The prep has already be done and remember to maintain oil temperature and don’t over fry.

Keep in mind all that you have learnt and concentrate on the task at hand.”

Manju walked away while Parul stood dazed, clueless about the occasion or the guests. The orders had been precise but Parul didn’t know why she should be cooking when there was an entire array of people who were busy at the stoves and counters. She knew better than to get in the way of the waiters and the cooks but noted that she had still a lot to learn. She found opportune moments to find out more about ingredients and cooking techniques.

The menu wasn’t too elaborate and was like those served at a family lunch. Parul noticed that almost all the traditional dishes had been given a slightly different twist.

At last Manju appeared with a smiling face. She thanked everybody,” All of you did a splendid job and our guests appreciated the meal you cooked.”

She turned around and held Parul’s hands, “Unlike the others here, I didn’t discuss or prepare you for the task. All these years in the kitchen have paid off and not gone in vain.”

As they drove home, Parul burst out, “I know I shouldn’t be speaking like this but Mr. Dey should be more respectful and particular in the company of older ladies.”

Manju laughed out loudly, “You were upset yet no body in the family even noticed him. He showed me a new direction, one that could benefit you and me and hopefully may continue to do so in the future.”

Parul was more puzzled than curious as Manju continued, “Mr.Dey’s nephew runs a restaurant and has been on the lookout for people who could cook for small exclusive groups.

Mr. Dey had sampled our cooking and gone through some of my recipes.  He suggested that his nephew could use our services for a pop up meal.

The past few weeks have been spent in meeting and discussing with others on how to make this project successful. I have cooked for the family but have no commercial experience. It was Mr. Dey and his nephew who were helpful with much needed advice on details regarding catering on a different level.

The experiment has been worth my trouble as the guests enjoyed the meal. If you gave me a hand then you could easily be a part of these events.  On some days there would be longer hours and heavier workload but extra staff will be available. It would give you the opportunity to expand your skills and earn extra cash.

You don’t have to respond immediately. Both of us have to consult our families, think of the terms and conditions and then finalize the details.”  

The day’s events had been strange and out of the ordinary but it had started the ball rolling towards a brighter future or what Rita would have termed a “career”. Generally not at a loss for words Parul found her eyes tearing and a hard lump in her throat and could just about say, “Catering companies have names. Will our company have a name?”

Manju Sen looked fondly at Parul, “Your thoughts travel at lightning speed. You had no idea of what the day held but in a few hours you are ready to run a business.  You have the makings of an entrepreneur. Does The Home Chefs sound like a good name?”