by Alexia Adams
Jeremy sauntered over to the reception desk, trying his best to be circumspect and not show that he was watching her. The young man at the desk glanced up once or twice as Jeremy twisted his body to keep the rest of the lobby in view.
Once handed his key, he retreated to an alcove rather than take the lift to his room. Fifteen minutes later, a dishevelled man entered the building. A security guard questioned the scruffy visitor and Jeremy was shocked to see the guy gesture in Lalita’s direction.
The dodgy bloke approached her, and she nodded as he came near. She indicated a far corner of the lobby and moved in that direction, out of Jeremy’s sight. Jeremy waited a minute, unsure whether he should leave his alcove and find another observation point, stay where he was, or go up to his room. Lalita clearly didn’t want him watching over her shoulder. However, he couldn’t help feeling that whatever she was involved in was not something she was comfortable with herself.
His brain told him to go up to his room; it was none of his business—his body refused to comply. He strolled over to the newspaper rack where periodicals from around the world were displayed for the patrons’ use. By tucking himself in the corner, where the Indonesian dailies were located, he could see Lalita but not her mysterious companion.
She appeared engrossed in what the man was saying and took a crumpled envelope from him. As she reviewed the contents, Jeremy could see her quizzing the man on what seemed to be a couple of photographs. The discussion went on for some minutes before Lalita pulled a pristine white envelope from her laptop bag. Jeremy could see the man’s hand reach for the packet. But instead of giving it to him, Lalita took out some of the contents and passed these over.
The man came right up to Lalita and into Jeremy’s view. Rather than back away, Lalita crossed her arms over her chest and stood her ground. Jeremy had to force himself to stay where he was and not rush over to shove the other man away. The man’s face turned livid with rage and he waved the bills Lalita had passed to him in her face. His voice rose, several guests turned in their direction and a security guard made a move towards them. Lalita held up her hand, forestalling his intervention. Looking like he was going to choke, the scoundrel pocketed the cash that Lalita had given him. He then pushed past her and rushed from the hotel.
Lalita glanced around as if to see how much attention the exchange had garnered. Most people had returned to their own conversations and she nodded regally at the few who continued to stare. Striding over to the reception, she greeted the man behind the desk by name. As she signed the registration document, however, her hand shook to the point where she couldn’t complete her signature. She made some excuse to the desk clerk and tried again, successful the second time.
After she got her key, she strode toward the lift. Jeremy waited another moment by the newspapers, nodding to the attendant who gawked at him as he passed on his way to his own room.
What the hell had that all been about?
***
“Lalita?”
Jeremy stood before her, his eyes as wide open as his mouth. Lalita smiled. Glad that after three weeks of seeing each other daily, she could still surprise him.
“Good morning, Jeremy. Sleep well?”
He ignored her question. “You look ... amazing.”
Her pulse increased, and a wave of feminine pleasure swept through her at his words.
“You know what they say, ‘when in Rome’,” she replied. She revelled in having knocked Jeremy off his seemingly solid foundation. It was worth the forty minutes it had taken to wrap herself in the endless deep green silk sari fabric. She’d had to resort to calling in one of the housekeepers to get the folds right.
As she turned to exit the lobby, Jeremy put out his hand, then dropped it to his side. The naked skin of her waist seemed to beckon his touch. She suppressed a smile and in her best business voice asked, “Shall we go?”
Jeremy waited until she was settled in the cab before turning to her. “The sari suits you. You look like a native.”
“I should. I was born here.”
“You were born in Mumbai?”
“Yes. I told you my father opened the office here. Evidently my mother joined him toward the end of her pregnancy and I ended up being born in India.”
At least that was story I was told.
“Every time I think I know you, you surprise me again.”
Warmth raced through her at Jeremy’s words, melting more of her resistance. Each touch of his hands unravelled more of her tightly woven restraints. Each kiss undermined the wall around her heart. Two more days and she’d have achieved her initial goal of not succumbing to his charms. Yet another empty victory.
Lalita peeked at him through the driver’s rear-view mirror which hung askew from the windscreen. Jeremy returned the scrutiny with unabashed hunger. She glanced down before he saw the same desire in her eyes.
His hand rested on the seat next to her thigh. One small movement and she could bridge the distance between them. A simple gesture of want, of need. She lifted her hand.
The sight of an emaciated woman begging on the street sent a tremor through Lalita. Her stomach lurched at the reminder of what she had to do, and her hand fell back in her lap.
“I’ll drop you off at the office and introduce you to the country manager. Then I have a few things to follow up,” she said. Jeremy gazed at her but made no reply.
Silence in the cab lengthened. In all their travels, she’d never known him to be at a loss for words. Was he engrossed in the sights and sounds of Mumbai or did he have something on his mind?
A white cow wandered into the roadway, causing the taxi driver to swerve. The abrupt change of lanes was accompanied by a chorus of horns, making Lalita jump—evidence of her unease she’d hoped to hide from her too-observant companion.
***
Jeremy’s mind raced. If she went off on her errand while he gave his presentation to the office staff then he’d have no way of following her, making sure she was safe. However, her presence wasn’t required. He’d handled the last few meetings without her in the room. At least then he knew she was somewhere in the building.
The taxi lurched again as it tried to get around a stricken rickshaw, throwing Jeremy against Lalita. She turned and offered a weak smile which didn’t reach her eyes. He resisted the temptation to put his arm around her. She seemed … nervous. An emotion he’d never seen in her before.
“I was reading on the internet about some of the various social etiquettes required to do business here in India. I don’t think I understand them all. I would appreciate it if you stayed so I don’t screw up and offend someone.” He latched onto the only excuse he could think to keep her near him.
She stared into his eyes, as if trying to figure out how much he knew. “Very well. But after your presentation I do have some personal business to attend to. You can either go back to the hotel or I can ask one of the office staff to give you a tour of Mumbai. There are some places it would be a shame to miss before you return to the UK.”
“I’d rather you showed me around,” Jeremy countered.
Lalita searched his face for a few moments, as if torn. She said nothing.
The presentation went off without a hitch. As the office was used to working in English, there wasn’t the language difficulty there had been in many of the previous discussions.
“Mr. Lakewood, if you would prepare a document detailing our final decisions for distribution it would aid the managers in disseminating the information to their regional staff.” Lalita stood before the assembled group and thanked them for their attention. The employees filed out of the room, talking among themselves.
Jeremy packed up his laptop and put a hand on Lalita’s arm when she made to leave the room.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Jeremy, it’s a personal matter. There is no need for you to come.” Lalita’s voice was calm, although he thought he detected a waiver.
“I’m coming, Lalita. If it’s a hair or n
ail appointment, I’ll wait for you. But I don’t think it’s something as mundane as that.”
“It’s none of your business.”
He grabbed her hand. “Your heart is racing, your palms sweaty. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, of course not.” Her words were confident, her voice wasn’t.
“Lalita.” Jeremy waited until her eyes met his. They were clouded, anxious.
“Jeremy…”
“I don’t know what it is, or what’s troubling you. I do know it’s something you’re not comfortable with. I will never forgive myself if anything bad were to happen to you. I’m coming.” His tone was firm, he wouldn’t be swayed.
“It’s not dangerous, it’s just personal.” She tried to pull away, but he refused to let go of her hand.
“I promise to protect your privacy. I won’t say a word and anything I see will never be spoken of.” He wished he knew what he was getting himself into. The one thing he was certain of was that he was going with Lalita. Seeing her with the nefarious man last night had spurred on his determination.
Still she hesitated, searching his face.
“It’s not only my personal business. It also affects my parents. I don’t want any shame or gossip to come upon them.”
“Is that what you think of me? That I’d gossip about your family?”
“No … it’s just … oh, Jeremy. I’m going to see my birth mother.”
Jeremy didn’t allow the shock of her words to show on his face. “I’m coming with you, Lalita.”
***
Lalita let out a long breath and closed her eyes. It was no point arguing, she knew there was nothing she could say that would change his mind. She could try and lose him, return to the hotel and sneak out later, but she had a feeling that would be futile as well.
“If I let you come, you promise you’ll never say a word?”
“I promise. I would never do anything to harm you, or your family. You have to know that.” Jeremy raised her face to his. He lowered his head, his lips touching hers with the lightest pressure. Lalita opened her mouth and white heat flashed through her brain. Her hand reached up and pulled him closer, kissing him with all the pent-up passion within her. It was only when her phone began to vibrate on the table that she remembered they were still in the office. One day Jeremy would kiss her somewhere more private. Then she’d be lost.
She released him and stepped back, appraising him. Hoping he didn’t see the hunger in her eyes.
“First, we have to get you properly dressed. You look too western. At least with your dark hair you can pass at first glance for a local.”
“You’re not going to put me in a sari, are you?”
“No. Just something more Indian. I hope we can find items in your size, most men here are shorter than you.”
“If you want to get me out of my trousers, you just have to ask.”
Two hours later, Jeremy stood beside Lalita, outfitted in new clothes. To a casual observer they appeared like two locals, searching for a lost relative. Lalita spoke to a shop keeper who directed her to a shanty town at the end of the street.
As they approached the slum dwellings, Lalita was relieved to have Jeremy’s strong arm around her waist. If he hadn’t been there for her, she would have chickened out. She stepped carefully, lifting the hem of her sari. The smell of garbage and unwashed bodies was overpowering.
A young boy in bare feet and tattered clothes approached and asked them for some money.
“He says he knows the woman but claims she doesn’t speak Marathi. He’s offered to take us there and translate. His name is Pradesh.” She explained the situation to Jeremy after a long exchange with the child.
“Do you trust him?” Jeremy eyed the young lad.
“Not entirely, but I don’t see any other options.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Lalita? You have a family that loves you. What point is there in raising questions now?”
“I need to know.”
“Then that’s all I need to know. Come on, I can’t wait to get back to the hotel and have a shower. I think something just crawled up my leg.”
Lalita took his hand and gave it a squeeze then hurried to follow the boy. He led them through a warren of passages until she was sure they’d gone in circles at least twice. She’d seen Jeremy taking careful notice of their surroundings and make discreet marks on some of the corrugated metal walls as they passed.
At last the boy indicated a small shed and called out the name Lalita had been given. A woman’s voice answered, and the boy disappeared inside. A minute later, he reappeared and motioned for them to enter.
Lalita stooped to pass through the doorway, bending almost double to get inside. As soon as she entered, she wished she hadn’t. The only place to sit was on the mud floor and the roof was too low to stand upright. A gnarled old woman lay on a filthy mattress not even bothering to shoo away the flies that buzzed about her unwashed body.
Jeremy stuck his head inside. No point both of them being uncomfortable. She motioned for him to wait outside, which he seemed grateful to do.
“Please tell her that I’ve come to ask about a baby that was born twenty-eight years ago,” she said to Pradesh. The boy repeated the question in the old woman’s language.
The woman got on her knees and crawled over to where Lalita crouched as close to the door as possible. Wanting to vomit from the stench emanating from the woman, Lalita held her breath. The filthy creature put a deformed hand up to her cheek. They searched each other’s eyes in the dim light. Before answering the boy, the old woman crawled back to the mattress.
“She says you are her daughter. She doesn’t remember who the father is. She sold you to a rich, white couple when you were a few days old. She wants some money.”
Nausea welled up into Lalita’s throat. How could this woman be her mother? Glancing around the tiny room which could have been her home, she tried to disguise the dry heaves behind a cough. She took a deep breath through her mouth. It didn’t help; she could even taste the rank air. Choking back tears that any human, but especially her mother, should have to live like this, she forced herself to concentrate on the purpose of her visit.
“I don’t believe her. Does she have any proof?” Lalita managed to get out. This couldn’t be true. Why had she even wanted to find her real mother? The one she had in England was loving and kind, why had she felt a need to find a different one? Especially one who sold babies?
Pradesh translated Lalita’s question. The old woman laughed so hard a wet stain appeared on the mattress around her thighs. She spoke again.
“She says the paperwork must be in her other house,” Pradesh said. “She wants money.”
“There is no money,” Lalita stated. She had to leave. Before Pradesh even translated the sentence, the woman moved with surprising speed and grabbed Lalita’s wrist in an iron grip. Her nerves were unable to cope with the bombardment of sensations and Lalita cried out.
Jeremy ducked into the room and pulled the old woman’s hand from hers. The woman scurried back onto the mattress and Jeremy placed himself between the two women.
“Are you okay?” He took Lalita’s wrist and ran his fingers up her arm. The gentle caress erased the feel of the old woman’s gnarled fingers, replacing it with a warm tingle. Lalita gazed into Jeremy’s compassionate eyes.
“I’m fine. There is nothing for me here. Let’s go.” She blinked rapidly, desperate to hold back her tears.
She started to crawl out of the hovel when the old woman called out something to her. Lalita paused for a second then kept going. Jeremy followed, and she leaned into him as soon as he stood upright. His arms came around her and he pulled her tight against him. God, she so desperately wanted to melt into him.
Pradesh emerged, a wide grin splitting his face. “If you want to get back to the road it will cost you double,” he told Lalita in Marathi.
She moved out of Jeremy’s arms but grabbed his hand for support. S
he glared at her young translator come guide and replied, “If you want to be paid at all, you will return us immediately. And not the long way we came.” The smile disappeared from Pradesh’s face.
***
Jeremy frowned, not able to follow their conversation, yet somehow sensing that the deal was shifting. Lalita’s hand trembled in his. She looked calm, although her eyes were glassy. Unshed tears? From the ice-maiden?
They followed the boy and within five minutes they were back on the main road. Lalita produced a few notes and passed them to the child who ran off without even saying farewell.
Jeremy flagged down a rickshaw and managed to make the driver understand that they wanted to go to central Mumbai. He figured he could get further directions to the hotel once they were nearer. He put his arm around Lalita and held her close, resting his head on her hair. The sweet smell of her shampoo cleansed his nostrils of the slum stench.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Lalita told him the gist of the conversation. Despite the oppressive heat, her face was a frozen mask.
“Are you sure that was what she said and not just what the boy made up?” Jeremy searched Lalita’s eyes. They were distant, troubled.
“Yes, her dialect was close enough to Hindi that I could understand most of what she said, even without Pradesh translating.”
“What did she say as you left?”
“She said that if I wanted a baby, she could get me one, cheap. She said that if you were to be the father, she would even carry the baby for no charge.”
Jeremy shuddered. “I feel bad for her that she has to live in those conditions. But to traffic in babies? No way. I cannot believe that woman is your mother. There is no way on this earth that she gave birth to you.”
“Thank you, Jeremy.
“We’re going back to the hotel. And after a long shower, you are going to tell me how you managed to arrive at the conclusion that someone who sells infants like handicrafts could possibly have born you.”
Chapter 7
Jeremy read through the documents the private investigator had given Lalita the previous evening. He stared at the photos, trying to find some trace of resemblance between the haggard woman in the picture and the luscious creature who sat opposite him. There was none.