She caught his eye. Of course she thought about him. She had been through the pain he was going through now. She’d done it when she was much younger and already under a huge amount of other stress and it had destroyed her. He was old now, and strong. If he’d felt this level of pain when he was twenty, whilst simultaneously trying to keep up with a punishing undergraduate curriculum, he would have crumbled too. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘I try not to,’ said Chaya. The trembling started. Her jaw clenched. He reached around her and pulled a pillow up for her to lean against.
‘It’s fine most of the time,’ she said. She shuddered again. She let out a long breath and seemed to force herself still. ‘I don’t know why it’s happening now.’ She removed her hand from his and rubbed her eyes.
‘It must have been the trip to Oxford and then this… each by itself would probably have been okay.’ He watched her, worried. ‘You’ve been working so hard preparing your submission for the prof job. I think maybe you over-stretched yourself.’
Chaya looked towards the door. ‘I should get back downstairs to Nayana.’
‘No. You stay here. I’ll tell her you’re fine.’ He paused at the door and looked at her. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ he said.
Chaya gave a brief nod and let her head drop back against the pillows. Poor thing. Panic attacks always left her feeling drained. It had been a long time since she’d had a full-on attack like that. It was such a shame it had happened in front of Nayana.
He went downstairs to find Nayana sitting on the edge of the sofa, TV off, hot chocolate untouched. The poor child must have been really confused.
‘She’s okay now,’ he said. ‘It was just … a migraine. It happens from time to time. We thought the medication—’
‘It was some sort of attack, wasn’t it?’ said Nayana. ‘Or a seizure.’
Wow. Okay. ‘It was an anxiety attack. Not a seizure. I’m sorry, I wasn’t meaning to mislead you. I thought perhaps you’d know more about migraines than panic attacks.’
Nayana gave him a disdainful look. Of course. Milliennials. They had the internet at their fingertips.
‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘The main thing is, it’s passed. She’ll have a headache for a while now. So, I’m going to get her some of her sleeping pills and she’ll be right as rain by the morning.’
The teenager looked at the floor and shifted uncomfortably.
‘Nayana, is something wrong?’ He perched on the arm of the chair opposite her. ‘You can ask me anything, you know.’
Nayana fidgeted, looking far too young to be eighteen. ‘It’s just… is she ill?’ Her voice dropped until it was barely audible. ‘Mentally.’
Gimhana blinked. He knew what stigma mental illness carried. He had seen how stress forced colleagues to take time off and how badly it affected their careers. He had also seen the lengths Chaya went to hide the strain, because any kind of weakness on her part would affect her chances at work. There was more awareness now than a decade ago, but still, the stigma hadn’t fully disappeared. People didn’t know how to act around you if they knew you were depressed or anxious. If it was viewed so negatively here, he didn’t dare imagine what it must be like in Sri Lanka. It would probably be viewed as badly as divorce or, heaven forbid, homosexuality.
‘Mental illness is just like any other illness,’ he said, in his best teacher’s voice. ‘You can take medication for it. Chaya was prone to anxiety, but isn’t any more. Sometimes, when she’s really tired, she has a relapse, but it’s nothing to be scared of.’ He stood up and patted Nayana’s shoulder. ‘She’ll be fine in the morning. Why don’t you go up and see her?’
He listened to her tread on the stairs. That was close. First the whole disaster that was the day in Oxford, where he’d had to distract Nayana while Chaya tried to hold herself together, and now this. Chaya tended to relapse under extreme strain. Neither of them had fully anticipated how much pressure would come with having someone living with them, even for a period as short as two weeks. There was no room to decompress.
Still. Only a few more days and they could relax. There was Manchester to deal with first.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Gimhana – London, 2013
Gimhana packed a few files to take with him when he went to see his client while he was up north. Client meeting aside, he was intending to spend some time with Chaya. The idea of going to Manchester with Chaya was fraught with risk. There were too many memories of Zack and always the risk of running into someone he knew.
Manchester was to him what Oxford had been to Chaya. Only he didn’t have a decade and a half of distance to soften the blow. He had faith that he could manage. He was made of sterner stuff than his wife. He was pretty sure he could deal with his feelings without anyone noticing. While Nayana was spending the day with her distant cousin, Gimhana and Chaya would be free to do whatever they liked.
Gimhana sighed and closed his briefcase. He missed Zack like crazy. It was as though something had been torn out of him and left a wound that wouldn’t heal. He’d tried burying himself in his work, but it didn’t help. Her niece being there was stressing Chaya out too, which made everything worse. Nayana couldn’t have come to visit at a worse time. He and Chaya had worked so hard to build this illusion of a perfect life, it would be terrible if the cracks started to show while Nayana was there to see it.
* * *
‘Are you okay?’ Chaya asked Gimhana, the night before they set off for their trip up north. ‘You seem … a little down.’
Alarm shot through him. He kept assuring her he was fine, but she must have seen through that. She was no stranger to pain. That was one of the things that held them together.
‘Ah, it’s just more stressful than I thought, you know.’ He paused and listened. The shower was running in the bathroom. It was safe to talk about Nayana. ‘Nayana being here. I keep expecting something to go wrong. It’s hard being on high alert all the time.’
Chaya nodded. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Ever since my panic attack, she keeps looking at me as though she expects me to shatter. I’ve told her I’m okay, but I can tell she’s worried.’ She sat on the bed, next to the suitcase she was packing. Everything was folded with excruciating precision. The more Chaya worried, the more precise she got with everything. Her hands twitched in her lap. She observed him, frowning. ‘But it’s more than that, bothering you. You seem… sad.’
He froze. Sad. Did that describe it? Not even close.
‘Gimhana, is there something going on with you?’ She said it quietly. She had never asked him about his private life before. It was understood that it was outside of the sphere that contained her. She leaned forward and touched his arm. ‘Can I help?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Nothing I can’t handle.’ He didn’t meet her eye, but patted the hand that was resting on his. ‘Don’t worry, though. It’s nothing that will get in the way of this…’ He made a small gesture that encompassed the room, the house, their life. ‘This, whatever it is we have.’
Chaya gave him a tight little smile. ‘Nayana being here certainly makes you question things, huh?’
‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘But we’re doing okay. It’s less than a week before she goes home. We’ll manage until then.’
In the bathroom, the shower stopped.
Chaya nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I love her dearly, but I can’t wait for life to go back to normal.’
Gimhana managed a grin and went back to his reading. For him, life would never be normal again.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Gimhana – London, 2013
They had spent the day in Manchester. Gimhana went to work, while Chaya took Nayana to meet her cousin. Despite his fear that something terrible would happen, much to Gimhana’s relief, nothing did. He and Chaya even made it to the cinema, as they had planned, where they both nodded off during the film.
The next morning, they picked Nayana up and started the drive home. Th
e teenager was quiet, unusually so. When Chaya asked how the evening had gone, she gave vague answers. More than once, Gimhana caught her looking at him, with a thoughtful and slightly angry expression on her face. It made him uneasy.
All the way home, he felt it. That quiet animosity towards him. Finally, when they got home, he couldn’t take it anymore. When Chaya was out of the room, he said, ‘You seem on edge, Nayana? Did something happen while you were with your cousin Chathuri?’
‘It depends how you look at it,’ said Nayana. Her hostility was no longer veiled. ‘I went to the pub with Chathuri. There was a friend of hers there, who was trying to cheer up his friend, who had broken up with his boyfriend.’
Well, this was a weird conversation. Gimhana kept his expression neutral. ‘Oh yes? Were you shocked … by the gay man?’
‘I wasn’t shocked by the gay man,’ she snapped. ‘Oh, I know adults in Sri Lanka like to pretend it doesn’t happen, but it’s not the dark ages.’
‘Right. Okay.’ So the younger generation were less cosseted than the older one. That was progress.
Nayana’s eyes were trained on him. ‘He worked out that we were Sri Lankan and started telling us about his ex-boyfriend … who, it turns out, is also Sri Lankan.’
‘I see.’ Where was this conversation going? He mustn’t panic and preempt trouble. His hands felt clammy.
‘He said he was very private. But that his ex was a lawyer, older and a smooth-talker… and passed for straight.’
He made several mental leaps. Manchester. Gay man just broken up with his boyfriend. Sri Lankan boyfriend. Oh no. It must have been Zack. She must have met him.
He made sure he didn’t react. She was watching him carefully. If she was trying to trick him into revealing something, she didn’t know who she was dealing with. ‘That’s interesting, I suppose,’ he said blandly.
‘Oh come on,’ she snapped. ‘I know it’s you.’
‘That’s a terrible accusation,’ he snapped back. ‘I’m going to pretend that you’re just talking without thinking because you’re tired. I don’t want to hear any of this nonsense in front of your aunt.’
She opened her mouth. Teenagers. Why did they always have to argue?
He put up his hand to stop her. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m offended. I will not have this.’
She still didn’t back down. They glared at each other. Footsteps signalled that Chaya was coming back.
‘Fine,’ she said, suddenly, her voice very low. ‘I’ll keep quiet. But only because I know it’s already over with him and I don’t want to ruin things for Chaya Punchi.’ She turned on her heel and marched into the house.
Gimhana waited until she was safely out of sight before slowly leaning against the wall. She knew. She knew and she knew she was right. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Now what happened? From what she’d said, she might not tell anyone. Maybe. Or perhaps she just wasn’t going to tell Chaya. Either way, he was grateful for small mercies.
Could he try and brazen it out? Deny everything? Maybe there was enough doubt left in Nayana’s mind to make her wonder if she’d missed something.
He would have to be extra nice to her for the last few days she was here.
He wondered how many other people Zack had talked to. He should have known not to talk to other Sri Lankans. Thank goodness he hadn’t named him or he couldn’t have denied it all. By rights he should be furious with Zack, but all the while, in the back of his mind, the idea that she’d seen Zack, that Zack had been upset enough to talk about him, buzzed. Zack missed him as much as he, Gimhana, missed Zack. Now that there was a connection between him and Gimhana’s home life, he really could come clean and tell Zack the truth. Yes, it looked like it was over, but somehow, he felt worse about deceiving Zack than about deceiving Chaya. The least he could do was tell him the truth.
He got his phone out and sent a text.
Forgive me. Meet me for a drink next week? I have something to tell you. Please.
He didn’t really expect an answer.
Chapter Sixty
Chaya – London, 2013
Chaya ushered her niece into the reception of Gimhana’s office. The building had once been a house and it still had a Victorian vibe on the outside. Inside, it was modern and bright with a nod to its past in the carefully restored feature fireplaces. It had been five days since they got back from their trip up north and Nayana’s visit was nearly over.
They hadn’t seen much of Gimhana since coming back from Manchester. He had worked late most nights and tended to rush off early. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was avoiding them. When she had suggested that they all go out for lunch on Nayana’s last afternoon, he had been very reluctant to agree. In the end, she’d argued him down to at least go for coffee. She wasn’t sure what had happened. Nayana too, was a little quieter than usual. When Chaya had asked her what was wrong, she’d merely said she was really tired. Chaya hoped that was all it was. It would be terrible if something had happened while Nayana was under her care.
The reception desk was in the first room on the left. Leaving Nayana to gawp at the paintings, Chaya went up to the receptionist. ‘I’m here to see Mr Gimhana Herath. I’m his wife. He’s expecting me.’
‘Please take a seat,’ she said, gesturing towards the sofas that were opposite. ‘He’s in a meeting. I’ll let his secretary know you’re here.’
Chaya sat down. Nayana came and sat next to her. There were several brochures on the table, they each picked one up.
‘It’s very nice in here,’ Nayana said in a whisper.
‘They used to be in the centre of London,’ Chaya whispered back. ‘They bought these premises to bolster that “old fashioned family service” atmosphere.’
‘On brand,’ said Nayana, approvingly.
Chaya smiled. Nayana seemed to notice these things. You could see her burgeoning interest in the hospitality industry showing itself. Branding. Key customer messaging. She threw these phrases around. Chaya didn’t really have much time for that sort of thing. In her line of work you backed everything up with evidence and wrote it down as dispassionately as possible. All this stuff about persuasive copywriting was beyond her. She flipped through the brochure and started reading an article about one of the charities the company supported.
The receptionist said, ‘I’m afraid Mr Herath is running a bit late. Can I get you a drink while you wait for him?’
‘Oh, tea please,’ said Chaya. Nayana ordered the same.
‘Two teas. How do you take it?’ She jotted it down. ‘I’ll be just a minute,’ she said. But before she could leave, two men came in. One of them, an associate who Chaya had met at one of the office events, asked the receptionist to call a taxi for the other one. They shook hands and the associate left, leaving the younger man in the reception area.
The thing Chaya noticed wasn’t the man, but Nayana’s reaction to him. She startled, then looked quickly away. She pretended to read the brochure, with her hair hanging down, obscuring her face. Weird.
Chaya looked up to study the man. He was youngish, in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, and handsome, dressed in a smart-casual style that looked at odds with the old-fashioned law firm setting. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and wore jeans, a shirt and a blazer. He looked slightly flushed. Did Nayana know this man? How?
She glanced back at her niece, who hadn’t looked up. When she looked back at the young man, he spotted her looking and smiled. He had a charming smile. If Nayana did know this guy, it was no surprise that she was flustered by him. The man’s gaze turned to Nayana. He gave a small frown and tilted his head.
‘Excuse me?’ he said, stepping forward, one hand slightly outstretched. ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re Chathuri’s friend?’
Nayana looked up, redness creeping over her face. ‘Uh yeah. Hi.’
‘I’m Zack. We met earlier in the week, remember? Up in Salford. In the pub.’
Nayana’s eyes darted to Chaya
and back to Zack. ‘Oh. Yeah. I remember. Nice to see you again.’
‘So, what are you doing here?’ he asked her.
‘This is my aunt,’ she said. ‘Chaya Punchi, this is Zack.’ So far, so obvious.
Chaya nodded in greeting. ‘Zack.’ Who the hell was this? And why was he making Nayana so uncomfortable? Had something happened between them in Manchester? She watched the interaction through narrowed eyes.
‘I just got some angel investment for my app,’ Zack said, grinning. There was no awkwardness about him. He seemed entirely genuine. ‘I’ve just signed the contract.’ He gestured back towards the offices. ‘You guys were right. I have to get on with my life and move on.’ He rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘I’m not going to let some man get me down.’
O-kay. Now Chaya was even more confused. Nayana kept looking at the door behind Zack.
Nayana cleared her throat. ‘My aunt and I are here to see my uncle,’ she said, putting some emphasis on the words ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’. She was clearly trying to tell him something. What?
Zack didn’t seem to understand either. A small crease appeared on his forehead as he tried to work out what he was being told. What was he being told? What possible relevance could they have to him?
Zack’s frown deepened. His gaze moved to Chaya’s face. Something seemed to click. ‘Oh,’ he said. He looked back at Nayana, who was making warning eyes at him. He took a small step back, his eyes wide.
‘Nayana, what’s going on?’ said Chaya.
At that moment, the security door opened and the receptionist reappeared carrying a tray with two mugs of tea on it. Behind her came Gimhana.
Chapter Sixty-One
Gimhana – London, 2013
A Convenient Marriage Page 24