FLAWLESS

by Leena Varghese

  “I need to give Toby his snack.” Giana moved away again, as she picked up Toby’s lunch box.

  “It must be very difficult to live without a man in your life,” said Benjamin in lowered tones.

  “We are doing fine, uncle Benji,” said Giana stiffly, popping a bit of sandwich into Toby’s mouth.

  “Call me, Benji! I am only forty-nine!”

  Giana nearly leapt out of her skin when she felt a finger draw a line on her bare arm. She moved away putting as much distance between them as she fed Toby quickly. Her anger was growing by the minute. She would have to tell Fr Da’Cunha about Benjamin. Her gaze swept around frantically for some help. Annabel was at the games counter, screeching at the people even as the coloured balls hit the clown. Carol was at the food stall catering to the snack lovers.

  Her vision was ensnared by Max’s chocolate gaze across the ground, while he absently discussed something with a group of men. She looked away hastily lest he see her predicament. He had all-knowing eyes that made heat surge through her body. Max was too much of a man, she thought, with growing discomfort. He was way too masculine and good-looking to ever not be confident of himself and yet, she had felt utterly safe with him in the past one week that she had travelled with him to the church. He had been a complete gentleman, though sometimes brusque in his talk. He had dealt efficiently with some of the cantankerous members of the council, his suggestions sound and practical. Within days he had made an impression on Fr Da’Cunha who seemed to trust him more than anyone else.

  “How about coming home whenever you are free? You know Susie would love to have you with us. I am sure you get lonely,” said Benji seductively, reminding Giana of a slimy viper.

  “I am sure Susie Aunty has better things to do at home than entertain me,” she replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. She put Toby’s things away, wanting to do something, hoping that lunch would be announced so that the people would come in once more. With a sigh of futility, she sat down to crunch some numbers on her calculator.

  *

  Max resisted the urge to walk across the green space. Her eyes had sent a silent plea to him before hastily averting her gaze. Toby sat in a basin full of torn coupons and made merry by flinging the bits of paper into the air. He was delighted by the shower of confetti, completely oblivious to his mother’s predicament as she evaded a rotund arm placed rather close to her shoulder on the backrest of the chair as she sat calculating the figures of the sum collected.

  Suddenly, the tent beneath which Giana and Benjamin were sitting began to shake vigorously in the wind, dislodging the poles. Max strode into the tent, grabbing the precariously swaying pole before it collapsed.

  “Ah, good you came on time Martineau. You can fix it now,” ordered Benjamin pompously.

  “I will, if you both step outside. Giana, could you pick up Toby?”

  “We can’t go now!” declared Benjamin before Giana could rise from her chair. “The lunch coupons have to be distributed soon.”

  At that moment, plastic cups of steaming tea were brought by one of the catering staff.

  “Ah! We can have a break before lunch,” said Benjamin, obviously pleased that Giana couldn’t move away as she was hedged between the side of the tent and him.

  Max tightened the ropes on the pole silently, angry that any woman had to suffer at the hands of such an obnoxious pest. He looked at Giana questioningly who wore a serene expression.

  “Have your tea, Giana, before it gets cold,” prompted Benjamin.

  The pole swayed again and Max gripped it tighter in anger, unable to go to her rescue. The tension in the tent was as thick as a congealed mess. “I can do with a little support here, Benjamin,” called out Max, his voice frigid.

  But the man could not be budged from Giana’s side. A surly expression crossed his face as he blew on his tea. “I am sure you don’t need help for such a silly task, Martineau.”

  He turned to Giana and smiled widely, satisfied that she wasn’t trying to get away.

  “The collections have been good this year, don’t you think, Giana?” Benjamin placed a casual hand over her thigh so covertly under the table that Max would have doubted his intention if Giana hadn’t gone stiff. She darted a mortified glance at Max but then quickly masked her desperation and moved her chair further away.

  She felt Max’s powerful silence. She knew he had seen Benjamin’s hand under the table. From the corner of her eyes she saw him, tense, aware that he was about to charge in.

  Before Max could get involved, she picked up the steaming tea.

  “Do you think we should order ‘medhu vadas’ also?” Benjamin smiled as he cupped her thigh higher this time, sliding it upwards.

  Giana swallowed the revulsion. Rage took over. She straightened and spilled the tea onto Benjamin’s lap without blinking. He yelped in pain as the hot liquid seeped through his trousers. He jumped from his chair and began to twitch and thrash his legs to avoid the liquid traversing down to the private parts of his anatomy. Giana eased back now having enough leg room to stretch.

  “I am so sorry,” she said calmly, not sounding even remotely regretful.

  “Sorry?” His outraged voice rose higher as he mopped up his pants with a tissue as best as he could.

  “Here, you can have the other cup.” She offered him the second tea cup, holding it up in front of him, her eyes sparkling in fiery challenge.

  Benjamin was so enraged that he left the tent in a huff.

  Max stood astonished, a crooked smile spreading on his face. So the delicate and helpless looking Giana was courageous enough to fight when cornered, even though her first reaction would always be to avoid a situation.

  In the silence that followed, only Toby chirped, “Uncle bun...fooo!” He made a face, puckering his lips into an O, as if trying to blow out a fire, and clapped his hands.

  Giana grimaced at her son’s words. “Does nothing escape his eyes?”

  “Uncle is burnt in all the right places,” murmured Max dryly.

  “He should have kept his hand to himself,” she replied with a tranquil air, collecting the coupons together.

  “I was about to step in to thrash him!” growled Max.

  “Some things can be dealt with, noiselessly.”

  “But not necessarily less violently!” he grinned. “Why don’t you complain about him?”

  It was then that Giana turned towards him to look at him, her eyes immensely sad.

  “Who would believe me?”

  Max was speechless. This young woman was being harassed by a much married, older man and she had nowhere to go, because no one would believe her.

  “Your sins can’t be that great, my dear,” he said, his voice tender.

  A huge wave of sadness enveloped her. He had understood her. She was grateful that he was not judging her. The invisible, often implacable rules that bind a small community, clearly made it difficult for her to express herself honestly. She turned away to tear up the used receipts and threw them into the bin.

  Annabel rushed in and screeched to a halt in front of Giana. “What was that all about? I saw the vulgar man do the Saint Vitus Dance!”

  Giana hid a smile. But Max was more forthcoming with his mirth. He let out a chuckle that was reciprocated by little Toby who provided the information. “Uncle bun...fooo!” he chortled merrily and stumbled off the basin into his favourite aunt’s arms.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Annabel her eyes swivelling from one to the other.

  Max’s chuckle deepened. “The parish council president was very fond of hot tea. So Giana decided to serve it to him. Unfortunately it went down the wrong part of his anatomy.”

  Annabel burst into laughter and punched a fist in the air. “He had it coming! I saw him pawing her but could not get away from the crush. They are killing each other at the games stall.”

  Unable to stand there discussing the episode, Giana spoke quietly, “Take care of Toby, Bel. I’ll see if Mamma needs he
lp for lunch.”

  As she walked out of the tent, Annabel began to play with Toby. Max fixed the tent poles firmly again and sat on one of the chairs, watching Toby. He was adorable and his eyes were the same colour as Giana’s. He looked over to the food stall and saw her smile and talk with the women. Her hand shifted to hitch down her dress self-consciously and then to tuck in a curl of hair behind her ear.

  “Was she always like this?” The question quietly slipped out without him being aware of his scrutiny on Giana.

  “How?” Annabel followed his gaze.

  “Quiet. As if she doesn’t have much to say.”

  Annabel let out a sigh. “Her life hasn’t been easy since her divorce.”

  “Who was Toby’s father?”

  With those dark eyes trained on her, Annabel began to feel uncomfortable. She knew that Giana wouldn’t like being discussed behind her back.

  “He was a drummer in a rock band. He abandoned Giana and Toby.” Annabel became aware of the sudden interest the handsome man was showing in her sister. She smiled, as a sudden thought occurred to her.

  *

  The fete was a great success. After the prizes were announced in front of a cheering audience, Fr Da’Cunha thanked all the people who had tirelessly helped in putting it together. The fading light of the evening saw groups of families trouping out of the gates. The stalls were brought down and the men took away their equipment. Max dealt with the payment before he met Fr Da’Cunha in his office with the other members who turned in the collections. Afterwards, he searched for Giana in the hullaballoo of the loud bunch of people gathered together outside the office. He noticed that Benjamin was conspicuous by his absence. The hot tea seemed to have been effective in removing his malicious presence, Max thought with satisfaction.

  Someone informed him that Giana had gone down to the basement to keep the banners. He knew that Carol and Annabel had already left for the cafe with a sleeping Toby. He decided to wait for Giana.

  *

  When Fr Da’Cunha had asked her to check the number of banners before taking them to the basement, Giana had been unaware that Benjamin had followed her to ‘help’ her with the job.

  Now she stared at the closed door with a feeling of dread, wondering when that had happened. She stood in the narrow space between a lectern and a long bench attempting to fold the huge printed canvas, ignoring the leering man in front of her. He had successfully hedged her into the corner, talking incessantly about his younger days when he had been a centre forward, enjoying a ‘huge’ fan-following, mostly female, if his words were to be believed. Giana nodded warily, aware that if she allowed him an inch he would pounce. So, she kept the bench in position and swallowed the bile mixed with revulsion.

  “This dress looks great on you.” Benjamin stepped closer and reached out to touch her skirt lifting it an inch. “You sure know how to attract a man don’t you?”

  Giana nearly laughed hysterically, jerking backwards out of his reach. Her hands were shaking violently. Her dress was a modest, loose frock. But she was afraid now. Had she unwittingly aroused Benjamin’s interest? She dumped the banners quickly. She had to escape! But how?

  “I thought you spilled the tea on me deliberately this afternoon,” accused Benjamin, sidling closer to her with the smile of a piranha closing in for the kill.

  “Really? Why would you feel that?” she asked, pretending nonchalance.

  “Come on, Giana. I know you so well.” He made it sound personal.

  “I doubt that very much, Benjamin,” her tone had gone cold. She couldn’t pretend anymore.

  “Oh, I know you! You think you are too lofty for the likes of me. You play hard to get even though you enjoyed shacking up with Ricky and his band in Goa,” he slung back. “Where did that leave you? An unwanted pregnancy and a lonely life!”

  His sweaty face shone in the overhead light and Giana wondered how she had tolerated this disgusting pest for so long. She was terrified now of this man. A seemingly ordinary man with a bald head and paunch, the father of three children with an apparently insouciant nature. A generous benefactor of the church with a finger in every pie. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Suffocation engulfed her. The basement store room seemed to shrink. She knew that she had to get out before she screamed at his abhorrent presence. She collected the pins and tacks neatly and stood out of the little safe enclosure she had created for herself. She was, in truth, stepping out of the enclosure in her mind.

  “You don’t think I have noticed your new friend?” Benjamin stood in her way.

  She dealt him a hard look that could have sent a decent man to Siberia. “Get out of my way, Benjamin.”

  “Martineau can’t be that good!”

  “Shut up!”

  “I have been too soft with you. But you have no respect for my patience. I can make this very difficult for you, Giana.”

  “I don’t understand.” She edged sideways slowly, feeling cold terror slither down her spine.

  He blocked her way completely now. The hair on her nape rose in reaction. She knew that this was the real Benjamin. The predator who cornered hapless victims. The rapacious opportunist behind the genial facade.

  “We don’t have to tell anyone,” whispered Benjamin, softly. “All you have to do is come home when Susie’s out for work. You know, age is catching up with her. She is always tired and irritable. After all I am a man and I have needs...”

  “And you think I am going to fulfil those needs?”

  Sweat beaded her upper lip as she shifted an inch back, clutching an assortment of things in her hands. The prick of pins on her palm, reminded her to loosen her tight fist lest she cut herself.

  The door was too far from where she stood. And it was closed now. Her eyes strayed to the rusted old bolt. Why had she come down here? She felt foolish, that she had not foreseen this. All the other members would have gone by now. She had seen Max winding up half an hour ago. Her mother and Annabel had taken Toby with them while Giana did the final calculations after the afternoon tea. She had never had an opportunity to tell Max to wait for her. The crowd had long since dispersed.

  She was alone.

  Vaguely, she remembered, Fr Da’Cunha telling Benjamin to lock the basement and drop the key with the guard at the gate.

  “What do you say, Giana?”

  She jerked her head back to look at where he stood only a few feet away.

  “Benjamin,” her breath hissed his name. “This is the last time I will tell you. I am not interested. Now, let me pass.”

  “You do realize that the walls in here are made of stone?”

  “So?” She stood rigid, her whole body taut with terror and hatred.

  “So...No one will hear you scream...”

  And he lunged, grabbing her around the waist, his fingers mercilessly clawing into her soft body. One hand went to snuff out her scream and the other held her tight. His leering mouth fell on hers, biting, enraged that she had defied his intention for so long. Giana pushed and shoved but he was too strong for her. She let out another scream which he smothered again with a grubby hand.

  “No one will believe you anyway, so don’t bother to shout for help!” he snarled as he gripped her hair nearly wrenching it from the scalp.

  She slammed her knee into his groin in reaction which elicited a surprised grunt from him. He doubled up for a moment. Giana bolted towards the door but he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back. A rough hand hit her across her face and she lurched sideways in blinding pain that seared across her ear to cheek.

  Giana felt the blood rush to her head as rage broke free from the mindless fear that was gagging her. She slung her hand without thinking and smashed it into his face in retaliation.

  It was enough to draw a shrill yelp from Benjamin as he jumped backward, stunned by the blow. Blood trickled down his face where two of the tacks had embedded in his cheek. He touched the protruding colourful plastic heads jutting out of his cheek with a look of
incredulity and hatred.

  “What did you do to my face, you slut?” he shrieked, his voice thin and flaky.

  Giana looked on, panting, her eyes ablaze with rage. Her breath came in great gasps. Her hand was knotted in a fist, slick with the blood that poured from the cuts, where the tacks had pierced her as well.

  “Don’t touch me again. I will gouge your eyes out if you dare!”

  But Benjamin was completely in the grip of thwarted lust to heed the warning. He pounced upon her. She slammed her fists into him again. The impact of his weight and the momentum of her fist slamming into his side unbalanced her, twisting her footing, and threw her backwards in a sprawl. She fell against the hard wooden benches with him on top of her. Giana fought hard, screaming hoarsely, never allowing him to pin her down in one place. They writhed and grappled, each trying to defeat the other, falling over the lectern and the benches and tripping over the bamboo poles as they crashed to the floor. Giana felt her dress tear open as Benjamin grabbed it at the shoulder and ripped it.

  *

  Max felt chilled by the thoughts running in his head. He looked at his watch impatiently. How much time does one need to put banners in a basement? He had been waiting for twenty minutes. The church premises were empty now. Instinct told him that he shouldn’t wait anymore. With a grim sense of foreboding he strode to the back of the building when Fr Da’Cunha called him from behind.

  “Max! I thought you’d left.”

  “I was waiting for Giana.”

  “Oh, she went down to the basement with Benjamin.”

  Max gave a visible start. He turned around and raced to the basement entrance.

  “Max! Wait...”

  The priest trotted behind him aware of something going dreadfully wrong. They reached the basement door which they found locked.

  “They have probably gone home,” said the priest looking at Max in confusion.

  “It’s locked from the inside,” growled Max, rattling the door handle.

  The sound of a muted crash behind the door launched Max into a frenzy. He hurled himself against the door with all his might.