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201005matangi
Darya took a picture.
The clanking of utensils had stopped. Darya heard the soft patter of feet on the cool tiles.
Placing the notebook back on the footstool and drawing the curtains around it, she hurriedly moved to the armchair.
Jasmine entered the room with two cups of coffee.
‘Sorry it took so long,’ she said. Then pulling one of the dining chairs close, she placed the tray on top of it. ‘The coffee table is somewhere around. Everything’s a mess.’ She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
Darya reached for her cup. Jasmine sat down on one of the armchairs and rubbed her eyes again.
‘Are you okay, Jasmine?’ Darya asked.
Jasmine nodded.
Darya took a few sips of the coffee, which was surprisingly good.
Abruptly, Jasmine said, ‘Did you know the families on Chapel Road have been living here for at least fifty years? I’m not talking of tenants—they come and go. But the owners, they’ve been here many, many decades. This is a very old street. It’s bang in the middle of Mumbai, but people here are very conservative. All this attention… it’s not good for them.’
Darya stared at her, wondering what had brought this on. ‘But the Mascarenhas are fairly recent,’ she commented.
Jasmine’s face twisted as if she’d been slapped. ‘No, not her,’ she replied tightly, adding under her breath. ‘She doesn’t belong here. She… their time here is limited.’
‘What do you mean… limited?’ Darya asked.
Jasmine hesitated for a split second. ‘Don’t you see?’ she said. ‘They don’t belong here. They don’t talk to anyone, keep to each other. We’re not like that. We don’t talk to outsiders but inside we are all tightly knit. They’re not nice people. Their stepmum used to stay with them… she was cool… they drove her away. Then they started taking in tenants to make money… some positively shady…’ She added hastily, ‘I don’t mean you.’
Darya nodded. ‘What about Daniel? He came to do some repairs in your house a few days ago,’ she asked casually.
‘He comes cheap. And it wasn’t for repairs…’ Then with a start, she asked, ‘You meant Viktor, didn’t you?’
Darya had let that in deliberately, to test a hunch. Jasmine had revealed something to her, but Darya wasn’t yet sure what. She put on an apologetic expression. ‘Sorry, I got them confused.’
‘Daniel is dead,’ Jasmine remarked.
Placing down her cup on the tray and bracing herself, Darya said, ‘Jasmine, there are allegations of Eileen being involved in witchcraft, of being part of an occult group. Do you think they’re true?’
Jasmine held her eyes. ‘Who told you that? About the witchcraft?’ she asked.
‘Watched it on News Sixteen,’ Darya explained. ‘Read all the articles.’
‘Witches are goddesses with power,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s only men who’ve given them a bad name.’
Darya stared. Hadn’t Veda too said the same a few days ago? Almost that.
She tried again. ‘Do you know what happened to Eileen? What have the police told you?’
‘Death by asphyxiation,’ Jasmine answered. ‘With a plastic bag.’
‘Not a metal collar?’ Darya blurted before she could stop herself.
Jasmine gave a quick, grating laugh. ‘Oh, no! Indian news channels make up anything, don’t they? There were signs of past use of a collar of some sort; she might’ve used it before, but that’s not what killed her.’ She paused for breath. ‘Elly was not naïve. She knew what she wanted. What she was getting into.’ Her eyes closed. ‘They can say what they want to. They believe she was working as a prostitute. That she was… a witch. That she was into sadomasochistic acts. The constables were leering at me when they were telling me all this. This is the future my mum and I are looking at now. The dead prostitute’s mother and sister. Or the dead witch’s sister. A poor murdered girl has no honour, especially also if she was found naked. The wild stories… oh, Christ!’ She bit her lip. ‘The police… they won’t tell us anything. They questioned Mum and me for hours. Asked about Pa. Asked about Elly’s boyfriend. Asked about the Mascarenhas family.’ She considered Darya over hooded eyes. ‘He’s back, you know,’ she said.
Darya stared at her.
‘Who?’
It was then that Darya noticed the change in Jasmine, her eyes drooping, her head lolling to one side.
Darya lowered her head to try to catch Jasmine’s eyes. ‘What are you talking about, Jasmine?’ she asked urgently. ‘Who’s back?’
Jasmine’s eyes closed.
Was she on medication? Darya wondered. To help her cope? Had she helped herself to one of her mother’s medicines?
‘Jasmine,’ Darya called softly.
She stirred, then sat up straight, alarm on her face. She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘You need to leave,’ she said, her voice hoarse and urgent.
But Darya wanted her to explain.
‘Jasmine,’ Darya asked. ‘Who’s back?’
‘What?’ she asked, her lips slackening at the sides.
‘What were you talking about a few minutes ago?’
She looked at Darya warily. ‘What was I talking about?’
‘You said…’
Jasmine stopped her. ‘Darya, you need to go now.’ She tried to get up but wobbled in her chair for a few seconds, then gave up. ‘Just find your way out.’
Darya rose reluctantly.
‘I’m moving today. Mum already has,’ Jasmine said, her eyes dazed, speaking to the walls. Her voice was syrupy, slipping away. ‘She forgot the wheelchair…’
‘Where…’ Darya began.
Jasmine looked surprised to see Darya hadn’t left yet. She licked her lips and said slowly, every word seemingly an effort, ‘Need you to go. And…’
Darya waited.
Jasmine leaned back in her chair.
‘And… I’m sorry about Veda. Really… I had no way out.’
Darya entered the room noisily.
Veda’s eyes flew open.
‘How long have you known Jasmine?’ Darya demanded. She drew the curtains apart. ‘And when were you planning on telling me?’
Groaning, Veda pushed the blanket off and sat up on the bed. ‘What’s the matter?’ She looked disoriented, trapped somewhere in the twilight zone between sleeping and waking. ‘What time is it?’ She pulled out her mobile phone. ‘Only 7 a.m. Did you go for a run?’
Darya dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. She repeated, ‘How well do you know Jasmine? For how long? And why haven’t you told me before?’
Veda sighed. ‘Jasmine? That girl was staring at me all the time,’ she said. ‘I thought nothing of it at first, but then I started meeting her at random.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’
‘What’s there to tell? We were just bumping into one another, that’s all. One day I saw her at Starbucks. She came in after me. Right behind me. Started talking to me.’
‘And?’
‘General chit-chat,’ Veda said shortly. She leaned back on the bedstead and pulled the pillow to her lap. ‘She was thinking of moving out of Chapel Road. Her mother was sick and staying with a relative. She asked me if I’d be interested in renting a room in the bungalow.’
‘Did you go to her house?’ Darya asked.
‘Maybe,’ Veda replied cagily.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Veda replied, ‘Do I need your permission?’
‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
‘Why are you so interested?’ Veda asked.
‘Because you didn’t tell me!’ Darya said, maddened that Veda wasn’t getting it. ‘Did she also give you a story to read?’
Veda’s face twisted in a smirk. Then seeing Darya was serious, she asked, ‘What story
?’
‘A crazy witch story.’
Veda shook her head. ‘Nothing like that,’ she said. ‘But after offering me her house, she offered me a job.’
‘What kind of a job?’ Darya asked.
‘A waitress of some sort.’
Darya let out a laugh. ‘That’s wonderful! From a doctor to a journalist and now to a waitress.’
Veda scowled. ‘She said it paid well.’
‘Why did she offer it to you?’ Darya demanded. ‘Did you tell her you were looking for one?’
A telling split-second pause later, ‘No. Didn’t.’
They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, Darya watched astounded as Veda’s face crumbled.
‘Veda!’ She moved towards her in alarm.
‘No, don’t…’ Veda’s voice cracked. ‘I don’t want your pity.’
‘What… no,’ Darya protested. ‘What has happened?’
Veda took a few minutes to collect herself. ‘I’ve resigned from the Mumbai Dost,’ she mumbled, biting back a sob. ‘I’ve ruined it for myself there.’
‘What about that… that guy at the office?’ Darya asked. ‘The one you’re seeing? Can’t he help?’
Not bothering to deny it this time, Veda replied, ‘He cannot… not without coming out to his friends and family. It’ll be too obvious. It’s too early. He says he’s not ready.’
‘Do you love him… this man?’ asked Darya, her heart aching for her friend.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I think so… So much is going wrong… he was the one person who made it okay…’ Veda’s voice trembled. ‘What am I going to do, Darya?’
Unsure of whether Veda was referring to her personal or professional crisis, Darya decided to play it safe. ‘There are other media publications.’
‘I won’t get any references,’ Veda said. ‘And it’s a small world.’
‘You have to try.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
Darya sighed. ‘It’s not. It’s tough for everyone. You have to bow your head and wait for the rough ride to pass,’ she said. ‘And pass it will, one day.’
‘How do you know?’ Veda snapped, her eyes glaring. ‘You, with the rich loving parents, the inheritance, the steady boyfriend, a magical future. Everything is falling in place very nicely for you.’
Darya stared at her in surprise. That’s not fair, she wanted to retort but bit back her words. Veda knew what Darya had gone through the year before when her life fell apart. She’d had to break off from everything to keep her sanity in one piece.
But Veda was hurting now. And Darya had to help her. This was Veda’s desperation speaking, and Darya knew what depths desperation could lead to.
‘Don’t worry about the money. I’ll loan you what you need until you’re back on your feet,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’m here for you, no matter what. You… just let me know what you need from me.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ Veda said, fumbling for her slippers under the bed, cursing when she couldn’t reach them after a couple of attempts. ‘All everyone wants to do is talk. Talk, talk, talk,’ she mumbled. ‘At least Jasmine wants to help.’ She pushed herself off the bed and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door close with a bang.
The day passed in a troubled haze. Darya’s chest was in knots throughout, alternating between hoping Aaron would call and worrying about Veda, wondering how to resolve their now constantly icy relationship. In addition, she replayed her conversation with Jasmine several times in her head, mulling over every word. Several questions plagued her: what had Jasmine been doing at home, lurking in the dark; why had she asked Darya to come in, clearly wanting to talk but asking her to leave not twenty minutes later, as if afraid of someone or something; where was she planning to go now; what was she planning to do; what job had she been talking about with Veda? In the end, Darya paid little attention to the instructor’s lessons, waiting instead for the day to pass quickly so she could be back home. Towards the end of the class, when everyone was supposed to be filling up a test sheet, Darya was on Facebook looking people up.
First, Jasmine.
Several photos on Facebook, but none with people in them. Pictures of her college, of Chapel Road, of the church, of her house. Darya wondered if Jasmine had removed the remaining to avoid giving fodder to reporters.
Two cryptic posts on her timeline caught Darya’s attention. They seemed comical, except Darya found nothing about Jasmine worth laughing about. She was a serious young girl, wise beyond her years.
Helping a friend start something new. Young women willing to help please DM me. Good pay. Keep an open mind. Change your life. Believe in the goddess.
Men control women. We are coloured so deep in the patriarchy we don’t even see it. It’s a black stain in our lives. DM me if you want back control. Your life will be changed forever.
Nothing since June.
Darya’s mind went back to Jasmine’s parting words. She was sorry about something she’d done to Veda, but what? Darya made a note to tell Veda when she met her later in the day, and to ask her what it could mean.
Next, Darya looked up the Mascarenhas. No trace of Debbie or Viktor, but to her surprise, she found a Daniel Mascarenhas from Chapel Road, Bandra. No photos. Joined on June 2006. She scrolled down.
And froze.
There was a single post. An extract from ‘The Witch’s Tale’.
The princess laughed again. ‘I’m a goddess now,’ she said. With a loud chortle, she threw herself off the tree and flew into the sky. Her black robe flapped behind her, and she seemed to them like a big black bird riding a storm.
Praise the goddess! Praise the goddess! Praise the goddess! Her subjects below sang.
There was a link at the bottom which wouldn’t go through, returning a mysterious 160604 error each time.
Lastly, Darya googled Kyra Kowalczyk. No photos online. No online presence at all. But wasn’t she a model? She tried Kyra + model + Poland. Nothing. Puzzled, Darya closed the browser and turned the phone upside down to mask its glow, smiling sweetly at the instructor who was scowling down at her.
As Darya entered the villa, she found the door to the reception open but the room empty. She peeped in. Seeing no one was inside, she whipped out her phone and entered quietly. She was going to take a picture of the family photograph and whatever else suspicious she found around. She wanted to check something.
After a few minutes, afraid of being discovered, she stuffed the phone into her pocket and ran out. She walked quickly past, then noticed the door to room 101 was open. There were sounds of movement. Somebody was within.
Darya hesitated for a second, eyeing the door, then walked towards it.
Why? She’d asked herself this many times before.
Because ‘finding out’ was more important than ‘being safe’. She had to know.
She walked on her tiptoes so as not to be heard. Edging close to the door, she looked in.
Viktor was inside, taping up cartons. There were six boxes inside the room, four already taped and sealed; he was working on the fifth. The sixth was stuck in a corner, its flaps arranged in a hollow triangle on the top.
Darya strained her neck, hoping she could see what was inside. It looked like clothing, black and satin. Upholstery or bedsheet? The imprint on the cartons seemed oddly familiar. Where had she seen it before?
Then, as if sensing a presence, Viktor stopped. He turned his head halfway, his ears twitching like a dog. His cap was slung low on his forehead.
Darya ducked.
‘Who’s there?’ he hollered.
Heart thumping, Darya began to slither away. There were sounds of cartons being pushed, the shuffling of feet.
Then not caring if she made a noise, Darya ran up the stairs, scaling several steps at a time. She was shivering with excitement when she entered her room. She had felt Viktor’s eyes boring through her back. Darya hadn’t dared to turn and check.
Well, at least, he hadn’t followed her u
pstairs.
But bizarrely still, although she couldn’t be sure of it, she wondered if there had been someone else in the room with him. She’d heard a strange jangling sound, the thick swoosh of a second set of feet, a low voice. Debbie? But when they’d met that morning, she’d told them she was going out of town for a few days.
‘You know what…’ Darya started but stopped immediately. ‘Veda, what’s wrong?’ she asked, when she looked properly at her friend.
Veda shook her head but wouldn’t look up. Her cheeks were flushed; her lips trembled. She was trying to control some extreme emotion welling up inside her. A magazine lay open on her knees.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Darya.
‘Why?’ Veda asked tightly. ‘Do you even care?’
‘I do care, Veda; don’t be like this,’ Darya protested. She came closer to the bed. ‘What happened?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
Darya took a quick breath and plunged on. ‘You have to talk to me, Veda,’ she said. ‘We cannot go on like this.’
Veda’s head snapped up. ‘You won’t believe me,’ she said.
‘Try.’
‘And even if you did, you’d blame me.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
Veda shook her head and went back to the magazine.
Unfazed, Darya tried a different tactic. ‘There’s a lot I need to tell you,’ she said.
With her lips a thin line, Veda muttered, her eyes continuing to survey the magazine’s glossy page, ‘What?’
Darya wondered if she should tell Veda about what she’d seen downstairs, but given she finally had Veda’s attention, that seemed trivial. Viktor could’ve just been packing up hotel bedding for all she knew. Although, they were very odd bedding if they were that.
She decided instead to talk about Jasmine, the conversation she’d had with her in the morning, and what she’d found on Facebook afterwards.
As Darya began to relay the morning’s events, she was alarmed to see Veda’s face contort, her hands shake, and finally tears start tumbling down her face.
‘Veda!’ she cried. She reached for her, but Veda pushed her away.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said crossly.
The Darya Nandkarni Misadventures Omnibus: Books 1-3 Page 38