“I always feel out of place, like I don’t belong. I mean my parents are John and Julia, my sisters Jane and Jessica. Your name starts with J, you fit into my family better than I do.”
“You’re basing this hypothesis on the fact that your name doesn’t start with the same letter as the rest of your siblings?”
She pulled her hand out of his and stared over his left shoulder. “No, it’s more than that. It’s hard to explain. I just sense that somehow I’m different. And rather than fade with the years, it has gotten stronger.” Her gaze flicked back to him before settling on her tea cup.
“Have you ever spoken to your parents about it?”
“When I was young, I used to ask my mother why my hair wasn’t blonde like hers, or why my skin was darker than everyone else’s. She would say ‘that’s the way God made me’ or ‘I was more like Daddy than her’.”
Jeremy chose his words with care. Lalita was upset enough he didn’t want to make light of her issues. “It is quite a reasonable explanation. Genetics is an amazing science. Genes can lay dormant for generations then resurface, making a child look entirely different from the parents. There have even been a few cases of twins having completely different colored skin, as one receives the gene for darker skin and the other a gene for a lighter tone.”
“Yes, maybe that’s the case.” The words ended with a huge sigh. “I guess I’ll never know for sure.” She seemed so defeated.
“Do you like dancing?” Lalita needed a distraction and he couldn’t think of a better one than something that involved plastering his body against hers. However, dancing would have to suffice for now. When they made love, it was going to be a result of undeniable mutual passion, not because she was feeling vulnerable and he took advantage.
“Love it.” Lalita stood and reached for Jeremy’s hand. “I know just the place.”
• • •
Jeremy stood in the same spot as he had yesterday afternoon, hoping to catch sight of Pradesh. He’d left the hotel at dawn, trusting that Lalita would sleep well into the morning. She had taken him to several clubs and they had danced until three A.M. before making their way back to the hotel. Then he had managed to convince her to take one of his sleeping tablets so she would have an undisturbed rest.
Before he could spot Pradesh, the young boy found him.
“You here again, mister?” Pradesh parked himself in front of Jeremy, hands on his hips as though the guardian of the slum.
“Oh good, you speak English. I want you to take me to that woman we saw yesterday and translate for me.”
“It will cost you.”
“I have no doubt,” Jeremy replied. Whatever the discomfort to himself, he had to make the effort to solve Lalita’s dilemma.
“Lady not with you today?” Pradesh led Jeremy along the direct route to the old woman’s hovel.
“No.”
“What you want to say? Old woman not happy she get no money yesterday.” They stopped outside what passed for Lalita’s alleged mother’s house.
“Tell her I want DNA proof that she is the lady’s mother. If she is the mother, then I will give her money. I’ll wait out here,” Jeremy added as the boy hesitated, expecting him to enter the shack.
The volume of the shouting that followed Pradesh’s translated message made Jeremy glad that he had elected to remain outside. Something crashed against the wall next to where Jeremy stood a minute before Pradesh emerged.
“She said the man that came five days ago said nothing about a test. He only pay her to say she had baby many years ago and sold it. No one is going to do tests on her.”
“She was paid to say she was the lady’s mother?” Jeremy clarified.
“That is what she say. Some man come on first day of week and say he give her five hundred rupees if she say she had baby and sold it. He took some photos and make her write her name on paper, then leave. He said he come back with money next week.”
“Here, give her this.” Jeremy pulled one thousand rupees from his pocket and handed it to Pradesh. “We will never bother her again.”
Pradesh ventured once again into the one-room hut before returning to Jeremy. “She happy now,” he stated.
“Thank you, Pradesh. Here is something for your trouble, use it wisely.” Jeremy handed the small lad a handful of notes after they returned to the street. The boy’s eyes lit up when he saw his reward. “I take you to nice lady if you want to buy baby,” he offered.
“No, thank you.”
• • •
“Are you sure there are no messages for me?” Lalita asked the desk clerk. She had rung both Jeremy’s room and phone with no answer. The sleeping tablet he had given her had worked like a charm and she’d had a dreamless eight hours of sleep.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the clerk repeated. “I have checked twice.”
As Lalita turned away from the desk, Jeremy strode into the lobby. He wore the clothes they had purchased the day before for their trip into the slums. The clothes he said he was going to burn. Her heart leaped.
“You’re looking better,” Jeremy said as he approached her.
“You went back there.”
“Yes, I wanted to get a DNA sample. I didn’t want you to wonder if there was any possibility that she could be your mother.”
“And did you get it?” Lalita searched his face. She couldn’t believe he had returned to that hell for her peace of mind.
“I didn’t have to. She confessed that she said what she did because the investigator you hired promised her money.”
“That thought crossed my mind. I am supposed to meet with him at one o’clock and give him the rest of the money.”
“We’ll see him together.” Jeremy’s face was hard.
Lalita opened her mouth to protest. It was her business, her problem. But it seemed churlish now to deny him after all his help.
“Very well. We have an hour or so until then. Why don’t you shower and we’ll have a nice brunch.”
“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.” Jeremy sauntered off toward the lift. His tall form stood out among the other business travelers milling about the lobby. And hers weren’t the only feminine eyes to follow his progress. Lalita wanted to shout out that Jeremy belonged to her — except he didn’t.
Twenty minutes. What was left unspoken was that in twenty hours Jeremy would be flying back to London. Back to his life and out of hers. Lalita could already feel emptiness crouching like a tiger at the edge of her heart, ready to pounce and devour that tender organ.
• • •
Lalita sat on the park bench, Jeremy’s arm around her shoulders for support. She toyed with the clasp on her bag, her fingers opening and closing the catch. Jeremy’s arm tightened around her shoulder as the private investigator approached.
“Did you meet her?” the PI stated, in English.
“She’s not my mother.” Lalita stood. The man barely came up to her shoulder.
The investigator blinked but made no denial.
“We had an agreement. I find your mother, you pay me five hundred US dollars,” he reminded Lalita. He took a step closer. Jeremy shifted on the bench, about to stand. Lalita motioned for him to stay where he was.
“You didn’t find my mother. You found an old hag that lied to make some money of her own.” Lalita refused to be intimidated.
“Do you know how many baby girls are sold to westerners like your parents every day? It is impossible to find your mother. I checked every orphanage and adoption agency in Mumbai and area. They had no record of you. Twenty, thirty years ago you could buy a false birth certificate for a thousand rupees. Slip a little money to the immigration officer when you left the country and no one questioned a brown baby leaving with a white couple. It just meant one less body to find in the garbage dump.”
Lalita shuddered and Jeremy leaped to his feet, putting his arm around her waist.
“Did you find anything of use during your search? Anything that wasn’t made up?” Jeremy towered over the small man who took a step back.
“I found a retired Indian government official that said he used to issue birth certificates to English people for a price, saying they were the parents. A cleaner at the British Embassy said he occasionally saw English parents come in with brown babies to get a passport for the infant. But it was a long time ago, no one remembered your parents specifically. The birth certificate on record is the same one that you emailed to me. Anything else would have been unofficial and not recorded.”
Lalita stared off into the distance, over the man’s head. It was a dead end. She had no hope of finding her real parents.
“You have a good life. You should be thankful that you were bought and didn’t end up dead, a beggar, or prostitute like so many other girls born in your situation. Now I want the rest of my money.” He flashed a knife at his side.
• • •
Jeremy jumped between Lalita and the investigator, grabbing the other man’s wrist with the speed of a cobra.
“If you don’t want a broken arm, I suggest that you walk away right now. You’ve had all that you’re going to get. You should be thankful that the lady doesn’t want the deposit returned after all the lies you told her.”
The investigator tipped his head to peer up at Jeremy. He hesitated for a moment then tugged his wrist free and walked away. Jeremy watched him leave the park before turning to Lalita.
“I guess that’s it, then. I’ll never know who I am.” She put a clenched fist to her lips.
“You are Lalita Evans, daughter of John and Julia Evans. Do you think finding some strange woman who maybe gave birth to you will change that?” Jeremy replied gently.
“You’re right, of course.” Lalita couldn’t keep the defeat out of her voice.
Jeremy watched Lalita struggled for composure. He would never understand why it was important for Lalita to find out where she came from, but he did understand that it was important to her. For him, that was enough.
“Have you asked some of the people who worked with your father when he was here? They may be able to give you a clue as to what happened.”
“I’d thought about doing that. However, I didn’t want John and Julia to know I was searching for my birth parents. I don’t want them to think I was unhappy with the way I was raised.”
“We’ve got the day, why don’t we go to the office and see if we can find someone who was around when the branch opened. We can take it from there.”
“You were going to spend the day sightseeing. This is your first trip to India.”
“India isn’t going anywhere. We’ll come again. Then you can show me your favorite places.”
She glanced at him quickly but let the comment pass that they’d return together. Normally such an assumption would have elicited a stinging reply; she must be upset.
“I hate this,” Lalita whispered as they exited the park and hailed a rickshaw.
“Hate Mumbai?”
“Hate feeling like this … like my life is unraveling … like I have no control anymore.”
Jeremy pulled her into his arms. “Let me take control for a while. You’ll be back to your usual, focused self in a few days. I think you weren’t even aware of how important this was to you until yesterday.”
“You’re probably right. If I forget to say it later, thank you, Jeremy. You have been a true friend in all of this.”
Friend. He’d start there.
The trip to the office was conducted in silence. Lalita seemed to be wrestling with some inner demons, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter. As they approached the building, she straightened and pulled herself together. By the time he paid the driver, she was striding toward the door, head high, confidence on full. Jeremy smiled and followed.
“Sameena, Mr. Lakewood and I are working on a project and will need to see all the HR files from the opening of the office. Can you show us where they are located?” Lalita tapped her foot almost imperceptibly. The HR clerk leaped to attention.
“Of course, Ms. Evans. If you wish, I can bring the files to you in the boardroom. It will be easier for you.”
“Thank you, Sameena.” Lalita spun on her heel and led Jeremy to the boardroom. She was back.
Three hours later, Jeremy glanced up from behind a mountain of files. Lalita had kicked off her shoes, her reading glasses were perched at the end of her nose and she was twirling her hair with one finger. Jeremy absorbed the image and filed it away for later. It was already six o’clock and he was due to catch a flight to the UK in eight hours. Eight hours, less check-in time, was all he had left with Lalita.
The rest of the staff had gone home. The office was quiet.
“It appears the first employee was a woman. She quit after ten months, then two men were hired. One man retired six years ago. The other died five years ago.” Jeremy handed the two files to Lalita.
As she flipped through the pages, Jeremy stood and stretched. He moved to stand behind Lalita. Bending forward as she pointed to something in both files, Jeremy caught a whiff of her perfume. It took a second for his brain to compute what she was saying.
“Look, the forwarding address for the woman, Aisha, is the same address for the man, Mohan. She’s also listed as his emergency contact. Seems they got married — an office romance, how sweet.”
And perhaps the reason for the no fraternization policy at Evans International.
“That seems a perfect place to start. There is an address here. Provided they still live there, it should be fairly easy to contact them.” He jotted the address on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
• • •
Lalita took stock of their surroundings for the first time in hours. She had a vague recollection of various staff members putting their heads around the door and bidding her a good evening. The boardroom table was strewn with files and paper and it was dark outside. Glancing at her watch, she shook her head.
“It’s after six. It would be rude to call on them this late.” Lalita was torn. If she wanted any information about her parentage out of Aisha and Mohan then it would be best to follow the intricate dictates of Indian society and call at a respectable hour tomorrow. But by that time Jeremy would be on his way to London.
“We’ll visit them tomorrow then,” Jeremy stated.
“You’re supposed to be on an airplane in a few hours,” Lalita reminded him. Her heart constricted and it physically hurt to pull in a deep breath.
“There will be another plane tomorrow.”
“But your mother — your brother-in-law is still in the hospital, isn’t he? Don’t you need to get back to the UK?”
“Yes, Doug’s still in the hospital. There’s nothing I can do for him, and my mother is coping with some help I’ve arranged. She can survive another day without me. I want to be here for you.”
“I can manage, Jeremy.”
“I know you can, Lalita.” Jeremy stared down at her, waiting for her reply. He had undone the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Lalita resisted the urge to lick her lips; he looked fabulous.
She thought back to how grateful she’d been for Jeremy’s support yesterday. She knew, though, that asking him to stay was about more than finding her mother. It was an acknowledgement that she needed someone. She needed him.
“I would love it if you could come with me tomorrow.”
The smile that lit Jeremy’s face tripled Lalita’s heart rate. She’d bought herself a day.
• • •
“Hi, Mum.” The phone line was so crackly that Jeremy felt the distance between them.
“That you, Jeremy?
”
“Yes. I’ve called to let you know that I’ve been delayed and won’t be returning now until Sunday morning. How are Natasha and Doug?”
“Doug is still in a coma. There hasn’t been any improvement in his condition. Natasha is beginning to realize that he may not survive. Is everything okay there? You’re all right, aren’t you, love?”
“Yes, of course, Mum. Something’s just come up.”
“Has the trip gone okay? Are you still going to get your bonus?”
“I’m working on it. Say ‘hi’ to the others. I’ll call you when I get back to London.”
“Okay, Jeremy. Take care.”
Jeremy hung up the phone and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t much closer to getting Lalita than when he left London three weeks ago. And now he was beginning to wonder whether a fling would be enough, whether a thousand nights would suffice to rid his system of his obsession with the sensational Lalita Evans.
If Lalita was under his skin before, now she was part of him. Leaving her would be like tearing off a piece of himself. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel whole again.
Chapter 8
Lalita stared at the house in front of her. The garden was immaculate and if it hadn’t been for the nightmarish traffic on the main road five hundred yards away, they could have been in any European city. It had taken almost two hours to get there from the hotel and Lalita’s tension level had built with each mile and minute. More than once she’d thought about telling the taxi to turn around.
“Shouldn’t we have called first? What if they’re not home?” Jeremy stood next to Lalita and appraised the building as well.
“I sent someone out early this morning. The husband has gone out but the lady of the house is at home.” She peered down at her phone to verify the information in the last text. Lalita scanned the street until she spotted a man leaning against a tree trunk twenty feet down the road. After she nodded to him, he folded his paper and walked toward the main road.
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