A Convenient Marriage

by A Convenient Marriage (retail) (epub)

  She watched Nayana go through the departure gates, waving until the last minute. When the girl had disappeared from view, she let the fixed smile drop from her face. She checked her watch. It was too early to go to work.

  She stared blankly at the departure board, watching the display flow and change. It took her a few seconds to realise she was staring at details of a flight to Canada. Where Noah lived. She read the details, turned her head and spotted the sales desk not far away. Could she? It was so tempting; she felt that tug at the base of her ribs, where her heart was. But she couldn’t. Not before she spoke to Gimhana. She was still furious with him, but she couldn’t avoid talking to him for much longer. Like it or not, her life and his were inextricably linked.

  Did she want to face Gimhana now? Would he even be home? Maybe he’d caught up with his lover and disappeared off into the night with him?

  A snarl escaped her. How could Gimhana be so careless? The one thing she’d asked for was discretion. She drew herself up to her full height. Well. Standing here wasn’t going to achieve anything. She may as well go home.

  * * *

  Chaya ran up the path to the house, the rain pattering on her coat. The landing light was on, but the rest of the house was in darkness. Gimhana must have come home at some point. He would be in bed by now. Was she angry enough to wake him and shout at him? No. She was tired. She hadn’t slept and the night was almost gone.

  This disaster would still be a disaster in the morning. Quietly, she hung up her coat. She stood for a moment in the hall, breathing in the familiar smells of the house; the smell of wood polish, a trace of curry and hint of Gimhana’s aftershave. This was the smell of success and delusion. The smell of the life they’d built. It was the sort of life that everyone looking in thought was perfect. The illusion had been so good, she had fallen for it herself. Now it had been stripped from within. The truth shone through the varnish, highlighting the cracks.

  She felt the need to do a quick tour of the house. To check that it hadn’t all somehow crumbled away. She crept into the kitchen.

  ‘You should have called,’ a voice said out of the darkness.

  She yelped and flicked on the light. Gimhana was sitting at the table, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand, an almost empty bottle next to it.

  ‘I was worried about you,’ he said.

  Her eyes flicked from the whiskey to his face. ‘You’ve been drinking.’ It was an accusation.

  He looked down at his glass, as though surprised to see it there. ‘So I have.’ When they agreed to get married, he had promised to cut down his drinking. He had done so, to a large extent. At least she thought he had. She wasn’t sure anymore. What else had he lied about? How stupid she had been to think that someone who was so good at deception wouldn’t fool her too.

  ‘I haven’t drunk very much,’ he said, as though reading her thoughts. ‘I started this bottle… oooh… hours ago.’

  ‘It’s four a.m.’ All her strength left her. She needed a shower. She wanted a hug. She wanted her friend, not this man who lied and drank too much and sat around in dark kitchens. She shook her head. ‘I can’t do this right now,’ she said. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  As she turned around to leave, he said, ‘I’m sorry, Chaya. I’m really, really sorry.’

  She looked over her shoulder to see his pleading expression. He was giving her that look, the one that always seemed to get him out of trouble. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning,’ she said, firmly.

  ‘You didn’t want to do it in the first place and I talked you into it,’ he said. ‘I let you down.’ He sounded drunk and maudlin now.

  She didn’t have the time or energy to deal with this crap, but… ‘You did. All you had to do was be discreet. That was all you had to do.’ She leaned against the worktop. ‘How long were you seeing this boy?’

  ‘Man,’ he said, slurring. ‘He’s a man.’

  ‘Whatever. How long?’

  He shrugged. ‘A year. Bit less.’

  ‘The poor guy. At least I knew what I was signing up to.’

  Gimhana didn’t look up. He topped up his glass.

  She looked at her husband, sprawled in his seat, looking like he was the one who had been hurt. She recalled with sudden clarity, the shock on the young man’s face. He’d had no idea. Gimhana had lied to him as thoroughly as he’d lied to the world. ‘I don’t know who you are anymore,’ she said. She turned away. ‘I can’t talk to you right now. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re sober.’

  ‘Chaya—’

  ‘I said, we’ll talk about it in the morning.’ She made her way to the stairs.

  ‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he called after her. ‘I will. I promise.’

  Chaya sighed. Another promise. Great. She knew how good he was at keeping those.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chaya – London, 2013

  They met for lunch. Chaya had left mid morning for work. After a few hours of sleep, she was still angry, but not as much as before. She didn’t want to have this conversation at home, so when a croaky Gimhana called her in the afternoon, she’d agreed to meet him for a late lunch. When he kissed her cheek in greeting, she caught herself breathing in to see if she could smell alcohol on his breath. It was something she hadn’t done in years.

  It turned out he had a plan.

  ‘Is Nayana going to tell anyone?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She really didn’t. ‘I asked her to give me some time to work it out… but…’ She shrugged.

  ‘We could go to Sri Lanka and brazen it out.’ Gimhana poked at the ice cubes in his glass of cola. ‘Even if she says something, if we turn up, as a couple, acting normally, people will start to question whether the gossip is true…’

  ‘She’s only a kid. She might crack under the pressure,’ Chaya said.

  ‘Yes, but she’s a teenage girl. It’d be her word against ours.’

  Chaya gave him her best withering look. ‘You think calling my niece a liar is

  going to help?’

  He pursed his lips. ‘If only you hadn’t just turned up at work like that,’ he said.

  ‘If only you hadn’t just shacked up with a boy.’

  ‘He’s a mature student. He’s thirty years old.’

  ‘You’re nearly forty.’

  He looked up and studied her, as though he was seeing her properly for the first time. ‘Touché,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘But I am allowed to see people. It’s part of the deal.’

  ‘The deal,’ said Chaya, through gritted teeth, ‘was that you could sleep with whomever you wanted, so long as you were ultra careful and no one ever found out. Not. Even. Me.’

  He looked like he was going to argue. She raised her eyebrows. He looked down at his glass again.

  They sat together in silence for a while. Gimhana didn’t look good. There were shadows under his eyes and the corners of his mouth were turned down. His guard was down. Her anger ebbed away a little. She was one of the few people who was allowed to see him like this. Normally, his vulnerabilities were tucked away, hidden behind his smile and dazzle. He frowned and tapped a finger on the side of his glass.

  She thought about all the things she knew about him. She knew his favourite restaurants, his favourite actor, which books he’d read until the spines disintegrated, which ones he’d bought for show. She knew which shampoo he used, that he tweezered out the grey hairs at his temples and that he could happily evict spiders but was freaked out by bees. She even knew about his Jem and the Holograms fandom. All these were things that you got to know from living together. He had become a good friend. She had been comfortable with him. Happy, even. Did she really want to lose that?

  The waitress appeared with two plates of food. Gimhana looked up, the mask already back in place.

  ‘Would you like some parmesan?’ the waitress said. Gimhana gave her his most dazzling smile and said no. The waitress looked from him to Chaya and back again. They got this a lot, the look of puzzlement
as people wondered what such a plain woman could have that would attract such a handsome man. Chaya smiled at the waitress, who bid them ‘Buon appetito,’ and rushed off.

  She returned her attention to Gimhana. He looked up and met her gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Chaya,’ he said, carefully. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  ‘I know.’

  He looked away again. ‘I messed up our arrangement. I’m not sure how to make it better again. The only thing I can offer is a divorce… If that’s what you want.’

  Angry as she was, she didn’t know what to say to that. This scandal was worse for him than for her. She was just the injured wife. Homosexuality was illegal in Sri Lanka. If word got out, no one would say anything to his face, but it would upset his family greatly. It would impact his family, friends, and maybe even his work. He was offering to release her and take the scandal upon himself. She also knew that, angry or not, she couldn’t let him do that. He was her friend.

  She sighed. ‘What’s done is done. What do we do about it?’

  Gimhana didn’t ask her what she meant or if she was sure. He sat taller, flicked open his napkin and put it on his lap. ‘What we need,’ he said, ‘is a plan.’ He picked up a forkful and raised it to his mouth. ‘And preferably,’ he said, pausing before taking a bite, ‘a plan B.’

  Chaya felt something loosen in her chest. This was better than feeling angry and helpless. This felt purposeful. She and Gimhana, facing the world together. ‘A plan,’ she said, picking up her own fork. ‘Okay. What options have we got?’

  * * *

  There was a period of quiet for a few days. Chaya felt like she was holding her breath. In the meantime, she got an interview date for the professorship. She handled the stress in the usual way, by throwing herself into the preparation for it. She was sitting at the table, looking over what she’d said in the application when the phone rang. It came up as an international number. Who could that be?

  ‘Hello,’ she said, cautiously.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Punchi,’ Nayana said, hoarsely. ‘Amma knows.’ She sniffed.

  Chaya sat back in her seat. Nayana had clearly been crying. ‘Tell me what happened,’ she said.

  ‘You know what Amma’s like. She felt something was wrong and she kept asking me and asking me and finally, I cracked and told her. She told Thatha… I’m so sorry. I tried to keep your secret, but she was so…’

  ‘I understand,’ said Chaya, her voice calm, even though she felt tension pulsing through her. ‘Malini can be very… persuasive… if she thinks you’re hiding something.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ said Nayana.

  ‘I’m not sure. Let me have a think,’ she said.

  ‘Thatha says I shouldn’t talk to you,’ said Nayana. ‘He can’t say that. You’re my aunty. We… argued.’

  Chaya sighed. Oh dear.

  ‘Thanks for letting me know,’ she said. ‘I’ll see what I can do. And Nayana?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. It was bound to come out some time or other.’

  Nayana sniffed. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘Gimhana and I have been planning for this eventuality.’

  ‘You’re… staying with him?’ Nayana said. ‘After what he did?’

  Chaya rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s a complicated situation, okay,’ she said. ‘Listen, darling, I have to go. I have an interview the day after next and I need to carry on preparing. You look after yourself, okay? I’ll talk to your mother and see if I can smooth things out a bit.’

  She hung up and sent Gimhana a text.

  Malini knows.

  He replied almost instantly.

  Your interview comes first. Then let’s go to plan A.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chaya – London, 2013

  The plan they came up with was simple. They would go back to Sri Lanka immediately after her interview and assess the damage. Just the fact that they’d shown up together would help quash some of the rumours. If they could persuade Chaya’s family to keep the story quiet before rumours got out that they were splitting up, all would be well. It wasn’t as huge a disaster as it had first seemed.

  The first major hurdle was finding somewhere to stay. Normally, when they went to Sri Lanka they stayed with Malini and Ajith some of the time and with Gimhana’s parents for the rest. To do otherwise would raise suspicion. Once the annual leave and flights were booked, Chaya phoned Malini to let her know. Malini greeted the news with silence. Chaya braced herself.

  After a few seconds, Malini said, ‘Where will you stay?’

  ‘I was… we were… hoping to stay in your spare room.’ She almost added ‘like we always do’ but stopped herself.

  ‘I see,’ Malini said, slowly. ‘Just a minute, I’ll have to check with Ajith.’ There was a muffled conversation. After what sounded like a disagreement, Ajith came on the phone.

  ‘Chaya,’ he said. ‘Malini tells me you’re coming to visit.’ His tone was clipped. Not at all like usual.

  ‘Yes. We were wondering about staying with you.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea under the circumstances.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘It’s not you. You’re welcome here any time,’ he said. In the background Malini called out ‘no matter what’. ‘It’s Gimhana,’ Ajith continued.

  ‘Gimhana?’ Did they sympathise with her and feel Gimhana had treated her badly? Which, in fairness, he had.

  ‘You have to understand,’ said Ajith. ‘We have a son.’

  She shouldn’t have been shocked. She lived in England, where people didn’t say such things – not out loud anyway – but such sensitivity wasn’t common in Sri Lanka. Another part of her understood the fears of people who had never had to confront their prejudices before. The knowledge of Gimhana’s sexuality would be difficult for them to handle, especially given that he was married to her and living a lie. She could try explaining that being homosexual and a sexual predator weren’t the same thing, but her brother-in-law was unlikely to move on that point. As far as Ajith and Malini were concerned, the brother-in-law they had known and liked was gone, replaced by a stranger that they didn’t recognise.

  ‘You don’t have to worry,’ she said. ‘He’s not…’ Not what? Predatory? Harmful? Contagious? ‘He’s not like that,’ she said, weakly. ‘He’s the same guy he always was.’ She had lived with the man for seven years, she should know. ‘But,’ she continued, ‘I do understand. Can I come and see Malini and the children – without Gimhana? Is that okay?’ There was no point fighting it. Not yet.

  Ajith sighed, a strange sound to rush down a telephone line. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘Here, I’ll pass you back to Malini.’

  Chaya spoke to Malini for a few minutes, an awkward, stilted conversation. Chaya could tell that her sister felt bad about what was happening. But she could also sense her confusion. She couldn’t understand why Chaya was still holding on to the shell of her marriage. If Chaya was being completely honest, she wasn’t entirely sure herself.

  ‘I’ll call you when I get there,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Malini, sounding stiff and not like her sister at all. ‘I will see you soon.’

  ‘See you. Take care.’

  Once she’d hung up, Chaya looked up at Gimhana, who had been sitting at the other side of the table, listening.

  ‘I take it that’s a no,’ he said.

  She nodded.

  ‘They’re afraid I’ll corrupt the kiddies?’ he said, with a sad smile.

  Again, she nodded. There was no point sugar-coating it. They both knew how it was.

  He shrugged. ‘It’s what I expected,’ he said. ‘People are scared of what they don’t understand.’

  ‘What do we do now?’ she said.

  ‘I’m not sure my mother can really deal with extra guests now,’ he said. ‘We’ll stay in a hotel.’

  Chapter Sixty-Nine />
  Chaya – Colombo, 2013

  The hotel room was luxurious. And why not? They could afford it. When they went on holiday to anywhere other than Sri Lanka, they stayed in luxury hotels. In Sri Lanka, they always stayed at someone’s house.

  Chaya stood in the air-conditioned room looking out at the sun-baked beach and felt like a stranger in her own country. Outside, the sun shone. Trees moved in the salt breeze. Hotel staff, dressed in starched uniforms, scurried around. Tourists lounged, looking red and ungainly. Frangipani flowers glowed white against dark green leaves. Inside the room, it was cold. Everything was spotless and perfectly arranged, as though the room were a showpiece that was never really meant to be lived in. She was looking at the world from inside a glass box. She had built layers of insulation around herself so that this world couldn’t touch her and now it felt as though she could no longer touch it.

  Gimhana came over and put his hands on her shoulders, making her jump. ‘Okay then, Nangi,’ he said. ‘Time to put the plan into action. Where do you want to start?’

  The plan was simple. Talk to each party and minimise the damage. ‘You should go see your ammi,’ she said. ‘I’ll see if I can catch up with Malini.’

  * * *

  Malini suggested they met at an ice cream parlour, the same one they’d loved years ago. Chaya’s tuk tuk dropped her off at the foot of the polished red steps. She walked up the steps slowly, noting how it had changed. The colonial grandeur of the place had faded even further. The potted plants were still there, covered in a thin layer of road dust. Sunshine could be unforgiving in what it revealed.

  A guard opened the door for her with a smile. The cool, conditioned air immediately made her feel better. Two ladies, with shopping bags cluttered around their feet, were tucking into ice cream sundaes and chatting. Neither one bothered to look at up at Chaya. The feeling of being on high alert faded a little.

  A bored-looking young waiter who had been leaning against the counter reading a newspaper, bounded up with a laminated menu almost before she’d had a chance to sit down.