The sound of footsteps disturbed him. He looked up to see Cara, dressed in a crumpled jumper and t-shirt pulled on over pair of pyjama shorts. If it had been any other girl, he would have felt awkward and not known where to look, but he was used to Cara. Sometimes he even forgot that she was a girl.
‘Morning.’ She put the kettle back on. ‘What time did you get in last night? We didn’t hear you.’
‘Really late,’ Sahan said, looking down at his coffee.
The kettle bubbled and clicked off. The sound of hot water pouring into the cafetiere. The smell of scalding coffee. Mugs clinked. Cara was making coffee for herself and Nate to have in bed.
Sahan’s parents liked that he lived with Nate. They would have had a blue fit if they knew that Cara stayed over. Sex out of marriage, and girls wandering around wearing big t-shirts and no bra – these were not things that existed in their world.
Sahan rubbed his brow. His eyeballs ached, gritted over by tiredness and the pressing urge to cry. Things had been going so well. What had he done for it all to come crashing down like this?
He had hoped that Soma would lead him back to a place where he was comfortable. If his personal life was calm and settled, if he had a home that was comforting, like Yamuna’s home was, he had no problem at all with England. He loved the TV, he loved the lack of mosquitos and the way things worked like they were supposed to. Okay, the weather could be better, but that wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like he was super fond of sweat.
He had pictured himself and Soma together in a cosy little flat, maybe, in time, with a family… The loss of it hurt like he’d lost a limb.
Oh, Soma. A tear escaped and landed with a little plip in his cooling tea. Except she wasn’t Soma. She was someone else. Someone young and duplicitous and strange.
‘Sahan? You alright?’
Sahan opened his mouth to say he was fine, but the words didn’t come out. Cara and Nate were the only people who knew, really knew, about him. They knew about Tamsin. They knew about Soma. They knew what Sahan’s family expected of him and knew that Sahan loved them too much to rebel against them. Sometimes Sahan felt that they knew him better than he knew himself.
‘Oh love, what’s happened?’ She sat down in the chair next to his and leaned on her elbows. She didn’t touch him. He appreciated that.
He had to tell someone. He couldn’t talk to his family. He couldn’t talk to Soma. He had to tell someone something before this corroded him from the inside out. Sahan drew a deep breath. ‘I’m not seeing Soma any more. We split up.’
It was a translation into Cara language. It said ‘I’m going through something that happens to other people’. Not a lie. Nowhere near the real thing either.
Cara’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘No.’ She shook her head, slowly, as though letting the idea settle. ‘You really liked her. I’m so sorry, Sahan. It’s… you must be gutted.’
‘Yes.’ Gutted. Insides torn out and thrown on the scrap heap. Yes. That was what it felt like.
‘What happened?’
Sahan took a deep breath and did a rapid mental translation. ‘My cousin told me that Soma has been seeing someone else.’
‘Oh. Ouch. Is it true?’
‘Soma says… not.’
‘Okay.’ Cara nodded slowly. ‘And you don’t believe her?’
When he hesitated, Cara drew a breath. Sahan said, ‘I don’t know what to do any more.’ He pushed his mug away and buried his face in his hands. ‘I just don’t know.’
‘Sahan… I saw the way you looked at her.’ Cara sighed. ‘The important thing here is, do you trust her? If you do, then you know what to do. If you don’t… then do you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you can’t trust?’ Cara patted his shoulder gently and moved her hand away. ‘Whatever you decide now, you’re going to be stuck with it for years to come.’
Cara didn’t know the half of it, but she was right. Whatever way he chose to go, the future would be fixed. The consequences of what he did now would stay with him forever.
* * *
Soma knew she was dreaming, but she couldn’t do anything about it. It was worse than a nightmare. It was a memory. It felt so real; the pandan weave of the mat digging into her back; the sweat and arrak smell of the man who was kneeing her legs apart; the sharp heat of the cigarette tip he held between two fingers of the callused hand that held her down – part vice, part warning. If she struggled, that cigarette tip would be pressed against her ribs, her breasts, her thighs, where no one would see the burn marks. Don’t make me hurt you, girl. Stop struggling. Pain under her right breast. Look what you made me do, little bitch.
Soma shrieked and woke up. Lights. Bed. She checked herself – no burns. A dream. Just a dream. He hadn’t found her after all.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. ‘Soma.’ Madam knocked on the door, too loudly. She would wake up Louie.
Soma leapt out of bed and unbolted the door.
Madam looked past her into the room, then straightened to look her in the face. ‘Bad dream again?’ she said. She didn’t sound angry.
Soma nodded. Madam seemed to relax.
‘Okay,’ Madam said. ‘You’re okay?’
She nodded again.
Louie started to cry, a sleepy, confused wail. Both women stepped towards the nursery. Madam put her hand up and stopped Soma. ‘I’ll go see to him,’ she said. ‘You… go back to bed. Get some sleep.’ She frowned. ‘Or watch telly. I’ll… I’ll deal with Louie.’
A few minutes later Soma watched, astounded, as Madam walked out of the room with Louie in her arms. Madam wasn’t the sort of woman who let the baby snuggle beside her while she slept, yet here she was, taking the boy downstairs with her. Soma leaned out to watch them disappear into the bedroom. What did that mean? Was Madam finally taking the time to get to know her son? Was she finally going to give him the motherly love and attention he needed? Did that mean that Soma, his mother surrogate, was no longer needed?
She retreated to her room and sat down on the bed. Crying and feeling sorry for herself wasn’t helping. She had to work out what to do. She had survived before. She could survive again. Staring at her door, Soma worked out her options.
What she had done was wrong. She knew that. She also knew that she couldn’t tell Madam or Sir about it. She had no doubt that Madam would inform the authorities. No amount of begging would save her.
If she ‘confessed’ to Kemasiri’s version of things, Madam would sack her and send her back to Sri Lanka. At least she’d be going back as a free woman. She could go back to being herself… except she had no identification papers to say she was who she was. All her ID was floating somewhere, eaten up by the sea. It was now easier to be Soma than to be herself.
Through the gap in the curtains, she could see the moonlit sky. She went over to peer out. Being at the top of the house meant she had a bird’s eye view over the misty rectangle of grass that was the garden. She would miss this, if she went. This room. This view. Louie. She would miss him almost as much as she would miss Sahan.
Sahan. The look on his face, that tiny step back from her, had told her all she needed to know. He was repulsed by her. The pain of it was almost physical, a twisting in her insides that would never, ever go away. She had thought that what her stepfather had done to her was the worst thing that could happen to her. In those scant seconds, without even touching her, Sahan had hurt her more. He didn’t love her. He loved the idea of loving someone he shouldn’t. She would have found that out eventually, but things had been pushed to the point early. Perhaps it was for the best to have found out now. And now there was nothing to stay for.
Sudden fear ambushed her. She had told him the truth about what she’d done. Could she trust him? Whatever she had thought before was clearly wrong. He didn’t love her. So could she trust him to keep her secret? He was Madam’s cousin. Wouldn’t he feel obliged to tell her? In telling Sahan, she had not only wrecked her heart, but she’d wrecked her safety too.
She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t crumble now. Whatever happened, she would survive this. Surviving was what she did. The first thing she had to do was to persuade Madam to send her back. She could rebuild her life once she was back in Sri Lanka.
* * *
Yamuna opened her eyes. In the crook of her arm, Louie snuggled into her, asleep again after downing a bottle of milk. Bim was moving around quietly, getting dressed. She watched him through half closed eyes. Their conversation the night before seemed a long time ago now and he was a stranger again. Was he right? Was she depressed? If that was the case, was the stalemate that was their marriage really her fault?
He looked up from buttoning his shirt and caught her watching him. For a minute she felt shy. He smiled, came over and sat on the side of the bed. ‘I haven’t forgotten what we talked about,’ he said. ‘I will be home early tonight.’ He leaned over and looked at the sleeping baby. ‘What are you going to do today?’
‘I’m going to call work and tell them something’s come up. I can’t leave him here with her.’
Bim raised an eyebrow.
‘I want to believe her, I do… but if there’s the slightest amount of doubt…’
Bim nodded. ‘Probably wise,’ he said. ‘Can I leave it to you to call the agency? What will you tell them?’
They had decided the night before that whatever had happened between Soma and Kemasiri, they couldn’t allow Soma to stay. If Kemasiri was telling the truth, they couldn’t trust her. If he was lying, Soma was in danger, which put Louie in danger.
Yamuna nodded. ‘I’ll do that. I want her to go as soon as possible.’
‘I’ll call Perera again and have another word about my suspicions about his driver. If that man did try to attack Soma, he may well have tried it on with other people too.’ Bim shook his head. ‘I can’t believe she invited him in. I just can’t. She was so terrified.’
If he had attacked the girl, Yamuna knew she would have to go to the police. She couldn’t in good conscience let a rapist go free. On the other hand, they couldn’t go around accusing people without any proof. ‘I’ll talk to her about it,’ she said. She looked over at Louie. ‘Louie will miss her.’
Bim looked at her, thoughtfully. For a long moment he said nothing. ‘Yes,’ he said, finally. ‘He will. You might, too.’
She frowned. ‘Me?’ Why would she miss the girl? ‘I’ll find other childcare for Louie.’ She had heard good things about the nursery next to the university. A few people from the faculty had children there. Okay, they couldn’t teach Louie Sinhalese, but perhaps that was too much to hope for anyway. She made a mental note to call them.
‘You trusted her,’ he said. ‘With all those other nannies, you were always so tense before you left. With Soma, you could hand him over and leave him.’
‘That’s because she loves him.’ She hadn’t intended to say that. But now that the words were out, she knew they were true. Soma did love Louie. And Louie loved her back. Which meant that her boy was happy. It made a difference to her to know that.
Bim nodded, as though she’d confirmed something. He sighed. ‘I’d better go. I have to be in Doncaster in an hour and a half.’ The bed moved as he stood up. He turned to go, then turned back. ‘I’ll be back early, I promise.’ He reached forward and touched his palm to her cheek.
The strangely intimate gesture took her by surprise. It took a second for her to relax into it. Bim made a rueful face as he withdrew his hand. ‘I’ll see you later.’
With that, he was gone. Yamuna stayed looking at the door, at the space he had occupied, the residual warmth from his skin still on her cheek. How odd it was to be touched by her husband. They had slept together, but it had been a purely functional thing. A transaction, almost. But the tenderness of being touched. Gently, reverently. It was new. She liked it.
Louie twitched in his sleep. A little fist went up in the air and then descended, slowly, until it came to rest against her ribs.
She looked down at the top of her son’s head. He did love Soma. When she left, it would break his little heart. He was young, she rationalized, he would forget within a week. But inside her something felt heavy. He wasn’t even a year old, and she was introducing him to loss. To heartache. The idea of hurting him hurt her.
She reached across, careful not to disturb him, and touched a soft black curl of hair. Her finger hovering just above his skin, she traced the perfect curve of his cheek, the brush of his eyelashes, the pout of his little lip. She breathed in the baby lotion and milk smell of him. It was as though she were seeing him for the first time. Her son. An innocent mix of her and Bim. His eyes, his hands, her smile. For once, Louie was not crying, not fretting, not trying to get away. He lay, content, in her arms and he was a miracle.
My son. The words arrived in her mind, suddenly full of meaning. My son. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t brush them away as they meandered down her face and neck. All this time, she had been blaming herself for not caring, for not feeling what she thought she ought to feel. But the love had been there all along, masked by exhaustion and a new mother’s inability to deal with the upheaval. She had tried everything to make herself love him and when it all failed, she had tried to hide from him, when all she had to do was take the time to look at him. To appreciate all that he was. To know that he didn’t care that she wasn’t perfect. He didn’t care that she didn’t know what she was doing. All he cared about was that he was held and loved. She had been so blinkered. How could she have got it so wrong?
Silently, keeping herself in check so that she didn’t disturb Louie, Yamuna cried for the months she had lost.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Soma.’ Madam stood by the door.
Soma had been sitting on the floor with Louie, who was lying on his tummy and playing with a toy. She didn’t have much longer with him. She wanted to treasure every moment she had. ‘Yes Madam?’
Madam came and sat down next to her. ‘Soma, I might be able to help you, if you tell me what happened...’
‘Yes Madam.’ Soma took a deep breath. She had to do this. ‘What he said was true, Madam. He… he is my boyfriend.’ It was hard to suppress the shudder that ran through her. She hoped Madam didn’t notice. ‘I deceived you.’ More than they would ever know. ‘I know what I did was wrong.’ She forced herself to look into Madam’s face. ‘I understand that you have to send me home now.’
There was a pause after she said it. Soma could almost see Madam’s mind turning this over. Perhaps she shouldn’t have pushed it. She should have waited and let Madam come to the conclusion herself.
Unable to hold Madam’s gaze for more than a few seconds, she looked at the floor. To her left, she could hear Louie, feel the tug of him, but she didn’t look at him. If she did, she would start crying again. Getting Madam to send her home was the right thing, the only thing, she could do. It was the only way she could get away from Kemasiri. But it meant she had to lose Sahan and to lose Louie. At the same time. She felt the pain swell in her chest and blinked hard to keep the stinging tears at bay.
‘Soma,’ Madam said, at last.
Soma looked up. Madam was frowning. Did she suspect? Did she know? Had Sahan told her?
‘Soma, I don’t for a minute believe that you are friends with that man,’ Madam said. ‘What are you hiding from me?’
She suspected. But she didn’t know. So Sahan hadn’t betrayed her. Soma’s mind flashed back to Mr Gamage’s face. The understanding in his eyes. He would have told his wife what he saw. That would explain the questions. But if Madam found out, would she help? No. One person knew her secret, she couldn't risk any more people knowing. She raced through options in her mind. What could she say that wouldn’t lead to more questions?
‘He threatened you, didn’t he?’ Madam said.
&
nbsp; Madam knew the answer to that already. There was no point lying about that part.
‘Yes,’ Soma whispered.
‘What did he threaten to do? Now we know there’s a problem, we can help.’
But she couldn’t tell her. She stared at the floor and said, ‘Madam, I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything more.’
‘Does it… have anything to do with Louie?’ Yamuna’s eyes darted sideways to look at Louie. It was all Soma could do not to look at him too.
‘No Madam. It does not have anything to do with Louie. Or you. It is… personal.’
Madam’s lips pressed together in a line. There was a moment of angry quiet.
Her throat was tight. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. ‘Are you going to send me home, Madam?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.’
‘Yes, Madam.’
There was a cry. Louie had pushed the toy out of his reach. Both women instinctively moved across to help him, but before either reached him, he pushed his toes into the rug and crawled, commando-style towards the toy. The women looked at each other, all other discussion forgotten for the moment.
‘Has he done that before?’ Madam whispered.
‘No.’ Soma looked back down at Louie, so proud of him that a smile pushed its way onto her lips.
‘Oh, Louie,’ said Madam. She scooped the boy up and hugged him. ‘You clever boy.’
He wriggled in her arms. Madam’s gaze met Soma’s briefly before she dropped her head to kiss her son.
Downstairs, the phone began to ring.
Soma held out her hands to take Louie. Madam hesitated for second, holding Louie close. Then she slowly relaxed and passed him across. There was something deliberate about the movement. It was a gesture that said, ‘I trust you’. Soma took the little boy in her arms and cuddled him. She hoped Madam never had a chance to realise that although Soma could be trusted with the baby, she hadn’t been entirely honest.
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