by Robert Mills
The living room was now full and the guests were spilling over into the kitchen and hall. Marvin had upped the tempo and the volume of the music and some of them were starting to dance. Josh, Anwar and I moved to the kitchen where it was easier to talk and where we could refill our glasses at will. From where I was standing I could observe what was happening in the living room and I suddenly became aware that Meena was dancing with a man I’d never seen before. My unease was increased by the fact that he was tall, slim and rather good looking.
“Who’s that guy in the blue shirt?” I asked the others.
“That’s Grover,” said Josh. “He was in our year at university. He and Marvin used to play squash occasionally.”
“I didn’t think they were that close,” put in Anwar. “I suppose they must have kept in touch for some reason.”
“Don’t you remember?” said Josh. “His girlfriend was very friendly with Liv at one time? Mind you I heard that they’re not together anymore. Someone said she dumped him.”
I left my companions and moved into the living room to get a better view of what was going on. Meena and Grover seemed to be enjoying themselves and as they danced he spoke to her from time to time. In response she smiled and laughed. I’d never seen her behave this way with another man and to my surprise I found it a disagreeable experience. I told myself that I wasn’t jealous, just put out by her ill-mannered behaviour. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing that I was annoyed, so I retired to the kitchen and refilled my glass.
Shortly afterwards a slow-tempo song began to play and soon there were a number of couples moving sedately around the floor in each other’s arms. To my horror I saw that Meena and Grover were among them. My disquiet was further increased when I saw Meena move closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. I couldn’t ever remember her doing this when she danced with me.
I stood there staring at them, desperately thinking about what I should do. I could cut in and make a scene, but that would embarrass Marvin and Liv, and might lead to my being publicly humiliated if Meena rejected me in favour of her new companion. I could storm out and go home, but that would appear childish. If I was to remain at the party I had two options: I could simply remain in the kitchen with my friends and get drunk, which was not really my style, or I could give Meena a taste of her own medicine.
I scanned the room for a means to achieve this. There were a number of unattached girls at the party but none that I found particularly attractive. It would be risky to approach one of Meena’s friends, so I looked around for someone outside her circle. My gaze alighted on a dark-haired girl I hadn’t seen before. She was standing on the edge of a group in the corner of the room, so I went over and introduced myself.
“I’m Shona,” she said, obviously pleased by my attention.
After talking to her a few minutes I asked her to dance and soon we too were circling in an embrace. To my slight surprise, but considerable satisfaction, she cuddled in close to me. I made sure that we moved close enough to Meena and Grover to be clearly observed. I’m not sure what I really expected Meena to do. Perhaps I thought she would break off from her partner and cut in between Shona and I. At any rate the outcome was not what I’d expected. The music came to an end and Meena separated from Grover, said something to him which I couldn’t hear, and went to the bedroom. Shortly afterwards she emerged with her coat and Grover escorted her from the room.
At first I couldn’t believe my eyes and stood in the centre of the room transfixed with Shona still in my arms. When at last I became aware that we were the only ones left on the floor, I released her. She thanked me shyly for the dance but remained standing in front of me, seemingly uncertain what to do next.
“I need a drink,” I said, and then as an afterthought, “Would you like one?”
“I’ll have a Supa-soda,” she said smiling.
Back in the kitchen Josh and Anwar were grinning broadly. “Looks like old Grover pinched your girlfriend,” said Josh. They could barely contain their laughter. I filled my glass, poured a drink for Shona and left them to it.
Shona had seated herself in the corner of the room and I sat down beside her and gave her the drink. I was completely preoccupied by recent events and sat in grim silence drinking my beer. She tried to make conversation but all she got from me were grudging, monosyllabic responses. I drained my glass and told her I was going home. She was obviously disappointed, but I was too preoccupied with my own feelings to care.
The following morning I woke with a hangover and an intense feeling of disquiet. I’d slept poorly and had spent the night going over the events of the party again and again. There was no doubt I was jealous of Grover and that somehow suggested that I really cared about Meena. I considered what life would be like without her and it appeared to be a barren wilderness of uncertainty. Of course there were other women, but there was nobody that I knew at that time who could replace Meena. If I’d been more patient and less impulsive, I might have seized this opportunity and gone in search of another relationship. At the time this appeared to be a risky strategy, which left only one alternative: get Meena back.
The question was: how was this to be achieved? Should I call her or wait until she called me? If I did make the first move, what would I say? After much consideration I decided that I would wait for her to contact me. I reasoned that this gave me a position of strength. I had a rather naive notion that if I didn’t contact her, Meena would come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.
A week passed and there was no word from Meena. I became uneasy. I decided that the best plan would be to arrange to meet Marvin for a drink and see what I could find out. When I arrived Marvin was already seated at the bar with a beer in front of him.
“Well then, how are you doing?” he said genially.
“I’m alright,” I said. “How’s business?”
“We’re doing rather well actually. I’ve just signed a maintenance deal with a fairly large food manufacturer. It will mean I’ll need an extra member of staff, but with the extra income, I can afford it.”
“That’s great,” I said. “I must say I had no idea that you would be so good at business. I’m really glad you are doing so well.”
Marvin suggested that we move to a table on the far side of the bar and once we were settled he said, “You didn’t ask me here to talk about my business. If I’m not mistaken you’ve come to find out what Meena is doing and thinking.”
“OK, you’re absolutely right,” I said, relieved that he’d brought the subject up. “I have been wondering what she’s up to. As you can imagine I’m pretty angry with her after the way she behaved at the party. Did she know that fellow Grover beforehand?”
“I imagine she must have met him once or twice in the past. Liv and I have known him for quite a while.” He paused for effect. “You are an idiot. Meena isn’t interested in Grover. I’ve told you how she feels about you often enough. If you weren’t behaving like a complete fool she wouldn’t have gone near him.”
“OK then, why hasn’t she been in touch?” I said indignantly.
Marvin groaned and put his hand to his forehead. “She’s been waiting for you to contact her; after all you’re the one who’s responsible for the present state of affairs.”
“I don’t see how you can say that.”
“I can say it because it’s true.”
My mental state made me vulnerable. I hadn’t found it easy being separated from Meena and it seemed that Marvin was offering me a way back. “Is she willing to see me?” I asked.
“Of course she is,” he said. “If you like I’ll arrange a meeting. She’s made it clear that she’d rather see you in person than talk on a comms channel.”
“That would be good. Thanks Marvin.”
The following evening I met Meena at Marvin’s flat. Marvin and Liv went out for dinner, leaving us alone. At first we sat in
silence and then she said, “It’s been terrible not seeing you and not speaking to you.” Her face was blotchy and the tears were welling up in her eyes.
“I’ve missed you too,” I said.
“I really hated having to come on to Grover like that, but you left me no choice.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about it rather than staging that stunt? We never talk about the really important things.”
“I don’t find it easy talking about how I feel,” she said, lifting her head and looking at me intently with her large blue eyes. “I want you to understand that I really want to be with you. You’re the most important thing in my life.”
At this point, I believe, I was lost. By now tears were streaming down her cheeks. I got up from my chair, walked across to her and took her in my arms.
“Oh Symon, I love you so much,” she said between sobs.
“It’s alright, please don’t cry,” I said. “ I love you too.”
She looked up at me wide-eyed. “Do you?”
“Yes, I really love you.”
A few weeks later Meena was showing off her engagement ring to all her friends. We went out with Marvin and Liv to celebrate and Marvin proposed a toast: “To Symon and Meena, our best friends. May they have a long and happy life together.” He was smiling as he raised his glass, but his face betrayed a smug self-satisfaction, which I found rather annoying.
Chapter Thirteen
We decided against an unnecessarily long engagement. There were things to be organised, such as where we were to live and the arrangements for the wedding itself, so we got to work straight away. Neither Meena nor I were high earners, but our combined incomes were sufficient to allow us to rent a small apartment. It was not the sort of property we would have chosen as our first home in other circumstances, but it had the great merit of being relatively close to a transit station, which enabled us to travel to work easily. I moved in first while Meena stayed in the apartment she shared with two friends. At that time fully automated kitchens were not the norm and when I sat down to a meal that she’d prepared I formed the opinion that married life would have much to recommend it. Meena was a competent, if unadventurous, cook but as in those days I had no culinary skills I was happy to be the appreciative beneficiary of her efforts.
As for Meena, she became a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, throwing herself into every detail of the wedding preparations. She spent an inordinate amount of time engrossed in virtual shopping sessions in order to purchase suitable clothes and accessories for the wedding and honeymoon, and items needed for our apartment. She took great pleasure in regaling me with accounts of the detailed research that had enabled her to get such good deals on all of them. I must confess that I also enjoyed making plans for our new life together, but I couldn’t match Meena’s palpable excitement.
My parents expressed their pleasure at our news, but my mother added, “You’re both very young, dear; I hope you aren’t rushing into this.”
“We’ve thought it through very carefully,” I said firmly. “Don’t worry, Mother, we’ll be fine.”
“As you know, we’ll support you in anything you want to do,” she continued, “but we don’t have infinite resources to help you financially.”
“I know that, Mum,” I replied. “I wouldn’t expect you to give us loads of money, we’re determined to stand on our own two feet.”
When I recounted this exchange to Meena, her face fell. “Surely they’ll want to do something to help us?” she said, blinking innocently. “You are their son after all.”
“I’m a big boy now,” I replied. “I know I’m not rich, but I can look after both of us. We don’t need a lot of possessions to be happy, do we?” Meena frowned and changed the subject.
My main concern during this period was her continued lack of affection. It was true that she allowed me to touch her in areas that had previously been forbidden, but if I suggested that we go to bed together, she said firmly that we must wait until we were married. Like Gardenia and I, she’d taken the ‘no sex before twenty’ pledge, but it was now four years since she had been released from this promise. It is true that chastity before marriage was popular at that time, but it was by no means universally accepted. Marvin had revealed that he and Liv had made love regularly during their engagement and that Liv had been a more than willing participant. I told myself that Meena was simply a product of her strict upbringing and that she would surprise me with her passion once we were married.
I had only met Meena’s parents a few times and it was decided that we should spend a weekend with them so that they could get to know their prospective son-in-law better. Although Liv and Meena had been to the same school, their backgrounds were very different. Liv’s father was the chief executive of a large, successful company, while Meena’s father worked as an office manager in the City of London. Her parents had scrimped and saved to give their only child a good education, and if they were disappointed that she hadn’t gone on to university, they certainly didn’t show it. On the contrary, they were as proud a mother and father as I have ever met.
Their modest home in South East London was in a large block of apartments, not far from the local retail complex. Like many of the older flats of that era, it was small but had three bedrooms. Meena was to sleep in her own room, which had been kept exactly as it was when she was in permanent residence. I was shown into the spare bedroom, which was little bigger than a large cupboard but into which a bed and a small chair had somehow been squeezed.
Mr and Mrs Naylor, or Frank and Betty as I was invited to call them, were a couple in their fifties who seemed to live in perfect harmony. Shortly after our arrival, we were invited to sit down at a table groaning under a large selection of food.
“Come on, Symon, dive in. Don’t be shy,” said Mrs Naylor. “I like a young man with a good appetite.” I took another piece of fish in an effort to show willing.
“What is it you do, Symon?” asked Mr Naylor.
“I’m an insurance clerk at present,” I replied, adding quickly, “I don’t see that as my long-term career.”
“What do you plan to do in the future?”
“I haven’t altogether decided,” I said. “I’ve done management training, but there aren’t any openings in that line at the moment.”
Mr Naylor surveyed me with a slightly critical look. “It’s important for a man to have a proper career, especially when he’s taking on responsibilities.”
“Responsibilities,” chorused Mrs Naylor, while pouring a drink for her husband.
“I entirely agree,” I said. “I have no intention of remaining in my present line of work in the long term. I do have a degree, you know.” Mr Naylor cleared his throat but said nothing.
“What would you like next, Symon?” asked Mrs Naylor brightly.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Naylor,” I protested, “I’m absolutely full.”
“Please call me Betty,” she said in an aggrieved tone. “We’re going to be family, you know.”
“Family,” said her husband with emphasis.
The evening was spent in the small sitting room that was so full of old-fashioned furniture that it made me feel claustrophobic. Conversation was sparse at first and I rather hoped they might turn on their rather antiquated smartscreen, so that I might be spared the ordeal of trying to think of something suitable to say.
Mr Naylor spotted me looking at it. “I see you’re admiring the multi-function viewer,” he said proudly. “We were the first people in this building to have one.”
“First in this building,” echoed his wife. “All the neighbours came round to watch with us. It was crowded in here, I can tell you.” I smiled politely.
I was relieved when Mrs Naylor proceeded to launch into a long monologue about Meena’s qualities and achievements, but the bride-to-be was clearly embarrassed. I smiled and nodded at appropriate moments and occas
ionally glanced at Meena admiringly so as to prolong the eulogy.
At ten o’clock Mr Naylor peered at his wrist tablet and announced, “It’s later than I thought. Time for bed.”
“Oh yes,” said Mrs Naylor, eyeing Meena anxiously. “I didn’t realise it was getting so late. You’ll be wanting to get to bed after your busy week.”
“It has been quite a tiring week,” she confessed.
“You two go up first,” said her mother. “Dad and I will get rid of the dishes while you use the bathroom.”
We climbed the stairs together and at the door of my room Meena said, “You do like them, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “They think a lot of you; I can see that. And so do I, by the way.” She smiled and disappeared into her own room, without so much as a kiss.
The weekend passed off well enough. I recall it mainly as a series of large meals. On Sunday afternoon we parted on good terms, but I must admit to having been very relieved to get back to my apartment.
When my parents heard about our weekend with the Naylors, I came under considerable pressure to bring Meena to spend a weekend with them. There was clearly no point in trying to resist, so a few weeks later we arrived at my childhood home with our weekend bags. Meena was clearly anxious but was also, I thought, relishing the prospect of having the run of my parents’ rambling detached home. As she surveyed the ample proportions of the drawing room, I could see her eyes growing large with wonder. I’d never previously considered our house to be in any way out of the ordinary, but I came to realise that to Meena it was a veritable mansion. I imagine that if she’d seen it when we still had the garden she would have been even more impressed.