by Dar, Azma;
‘Do you remember if he ever mentioned his sister-in-law, Farzana?’ asked the Inspector.
‘He was always going on about her. Gossiped about her like a woman. The latest was how he was going to ruin her dreams by taking over her hotel. It wasn’t only Farzana. He boasted about everything. If all the things he told me were true, then he got no more than he deserved.’
‘What things?’
‘There’s no point in dragging out his dirty history. He did it to us, to his own family, people you’d never dream of. Connected ladies. Abused them. Drove them mad. I don’t know. Maybe all men are like that. Are you?’
She stood up and the Inspector jumped.
‘I didn’t offer you tea.’
‘No thanks,’ both the men said. She sat down again.
‘So,’ she said. ‘Did Farzana do it?’
‘We’re not sure,’ said Sharif. ‘It would seem so. From what you’ve said, they obviously weren’t friends. And a witness has come forward. A respectable man.’
She laughed.
‘Can’t be anyone I know, then. And he caught her red handed, did he?’
‘No, but he says he saw her coming out of Pervez’s room. He is Anwar saab’s cousin,’ said Sharif.
‘Anwar saab’s cousin.’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘Mr Rafeeq Rasool.’
She laughed again, and told them how she knew him.
It was originally a small house, but some of Rafeeq’s loan had been spent on extensions. Like Rabia’s house, the rooms were built in a square around the courtyard, but here the central, open air area was much bigger, and was bare earth instead of concrete. Dolly had the tea brought out on to the verandah, along with hot savoury snacks and cakes from the bakery.
‘I’m glad you came. Otherwise I would have come to you myself,’ she said. She went on without being prompted by Saika. ‘I wouldn’t say I was best friends with Zareena, but perhaps she thought I could understand her better than the others. She was from a big city like me. I was born in Karachi. Her family was in Lahore. Anyway, she told me things about her and Anwar. Private things. I didn’t really want to know but she liked to show off about him in any way she could. He was quite a catch at the time. It was an arranged marriage, but he rejected lots of girls before he agreed to marry Zareena.’
‘I’ve heard they were, well, passionate about each other,’ said Saika.
‘She was. And he was too, in the beginning. Then I think her possessiveness got to him. She was very controlling. I told her she should ease off a little but she just accused me of being jealous, said I was after him myself.’ Dolly rolled her eyes.
‘Did she like Anwar’s mother?’
Dolly laughed.
‘They were always, not arguing, but passing sarcastic comments to each other. Like a cold war. Then, in the few months before she died, they seemed quite friendly again. When I asked Zareena she laughed and said that her mother in law was bonkers, and she was going to teach her a lesson.’
‘She didn’t say what?’
‘No, but she really did seem to find it very funny.’
‘How many months pregnant was she – at the end?’
Dolly looked at her in astonishment.
‘Who told you that?’
Saika hesitated.
‘Well it’s nonsense,’ said Dolly. ‘I’m sure she wasn’t. She would have told me. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She was worried it had been over a year and a half and nothing had happened yet. She told everyone she was delaying it herself, but the truth was she was having problems. It was partly why she was terrified of losing Anwar. She thought he would go off with someone else if they didn’t have a baby soon. It made her even more desperate to have some power over him.’
‘Did she have black magic done on him?’
‘I told her it was all hocus-pocus rubbish. But she had complete faith in it. She told Baba to give her something to control Anwar, and asked him for a fertility medicine for herself. He told her to make a puppet of her husband out of one of his sweaty garments, and put some bits and pieces from his body on to it.’
‘And did he give her a drug?’
‘Yes. He has about three different herbs that he rotates around for all the ailments in the world, telling people they’re miracle cures.’
‘So obviously nothing happened.’
Dolly pushed a piece of cake over to her.
‘Are you sure you haven’t got any news of your own?’ she asked.
‘How can you all tell? Does my face look that ghoulish?’
‘You look tired, that’s all. I’m not surprised, with the things that have been going on. Your cousin, I mean.’
Saika didn’t want to bring Pervez into the conversation.
‘You still haven’t told me why you described Anwar the way you did,’ she said. ‘Was Zareena frightened of him?’
Dolly started fiddling with the knife, cutting the sponge up into wedges.
‘No, not really. She said he got angry with her. I saw him a few times. He didn’t say much but I could tell he was furious. Usually when she tried to boss him around in public. And she told me he flew into a rage when she accused him of sleeping with the secretary.’
‘But isn’t that normal? Wouldn’t most men react in that way? What about your husband?’
Dolly laughed.
‘He’d probably be flattered. But you’re right. And that’s not why I said it.’ She paused. ‘She complained a lot about him flirting with other women.’
Saika frowned at this alien depiction of him.
‘No, he hasn’t changed drastically in all that time. I never noticed it, either. It was all in her head. She said she would give him a taste of his own medicine. And that’s what worries me. Two weeks later she was dead.’
‘But that doesn’t mean anything!’ Saika couldn’t hide how much she wanted it to be an unfounded suspicion.
‘I don’t want it to be true. I’ve got nothing against him, really. He’s never really liked me, because he thought I gave Zareena ideas. I don’t know. I told Rafeeq to go to the police and tell them to look at the case properly, but they weren’t interested in causing trouble for an influential family. And it was… well Anwar’s face that gave me a strange feeling… Afterwards, for such a long time. He looked so restless always, still trapped in those days, if it doesn’t sound too melodramatic.’
It was this, more than anything else, that Saika could understand.
Dolly told the maid to run out for a taxi, and Saika told the driver to stop at the shops on the way. She bought some fabric, raw silks in lime and cerise, then stopped off at the grocery shop to back up her story about needing to buy ladies’ items. There was a display of lacy knickers behind the till. She waited till the store emptied a little before she asked the shopkeeper to take a pair off the wall. He licked his lips as he placed them into the bag with the potato chips.
It would have to do. She would just say she couldn’t find anything else she liked. It was impossible to think of shopping while the conversation with Dolly was throbbing in her head.
She could understand Zareena’s desperation to hang on to Anwar with everything she had, but why had she lied to the Begum about being pregnant? Maybe it was the Begum who wanted Anwar to become a serial husband, to keep marrying women until a grandchild appeared. Saika smiled wryly to herself when she thought of all the years that had been wasted by Anwar’s refusal to remarry after Zareena. The thought gave birth to another. What if becoming a father was what Anwar was afraid of? Maybe that was why he’d avoided it all this time. Maybe Zareena had in reality told him she was pregnant too, and it was that which had driven him over the edge, and her down the stairs. The mother, starved of a grandchild, who tried to procure a never ending line of bahus for her son to impregnate, and the son, the child hater who put an end to her dreams by murdering them. She shook the crazy new idea off. Why would he not want children? Saika cursed herself. She’d forgotten to ask Dolly about the poodle.
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br /> The Mercedes was already there when she got back. Gago came running as Saika got out of the taxi.
‘Oho, are you okay, Memsahib?’
Saika quietened her down and tried to get inside the house.
‘He’s very angry,’ whispered Gago. Saika took a deep breath, but was unafraid. What could he do when the servants were there?
‘He’s in the sitting room.’
Anwar was watching a religious programme, a group of imams having a singing competition. He didn’t look at her when she came in. She sat down near him.
‘Memsahib is back,’ announced Gago unnecessarily.
‘Put the dinner on please, Gago,’ said Anwar. Gago went out.
‘I think we should talk,’ said Saika.
‘After dinner,’ said Anwar. ‘Unless you want everyone to know things aren’t as they should be.’
Saika tried to swallow her words but couldn’t.
‘They haven’t been, have they, since I came here?’
Anwar looked at her, and she saw he was hurt.
‘I was only talking about today,’ he said.
‘You mean earlier?’
‘Yes, and now. Where were you?’
‘You know where I was. Shopping.’
‘Why didn’t you take Nathoo? I was worried about you. What if something had happened? Especially in your condition. You didn’t even have the mobile switched on, did you?’
She felt a little guilty, for lying, being a nuisance, entertaining insane ideas about him.
‘Where did you go? Did you buy anything?’ His tone had softened.
‘I stopped off at Dolly’s,’ she said. He was puzzled.
‘Dolly? Rafeeq’s wife? I didn’t think you knew her very well.’
‘I don’t, but she invited me over when she came to the party, so I thought I might as well get to know some of your family better.’
‘Well, good. I’m glad you had a nice time.’ He seemed unsure of whether to say anything else. Sharmilee appeared in the doorway with a tray.
‘Will you like it in here or in the big room?’ she called.
‘Bring it in here, please,’ said Anwar. Saika, relieved for now, went to wash up.
Dolly sat in a rocking chair, on the flat roof of the house, watching the sun soak its light back up, dappling the sky with lilac and orange. She came and sat here when she needed to think, or read, or just get away from Rafeeq after an argument.
She’d known the girl would come. It was good. The girl needed to know what had gone on. Nobody else was going to tell her. Nobody else knew about the things Dolly did. If it caused friction it wasn’t her fault. If something happened to the girl she would blame herself for not speaking.
As Zareena suspected, Dolly had fancied Anwar a little bit, though of course she’d never made it obvious when there were other people around. Least of all Zareena. Zareena hadn’t needed evidence to start throwing her wild accusations around. She’d even thought Anwar was having an affair with the old maid.
Just as well she’d never known that once, when Dolly had gone over to the haveli in the afternoon, there had been nobody home except for Anwar and the servants. Gago had made them tea in the garden. They’d talked about cricket. Dolly hated cricket but she pretended to like it, and she certainly knew enough about it. Like most Pakistani men, Rafeeq was obsessed with it. In the midst of a light-hearted discussion about the merits of Inzamam al Haq, Dolly had leaned over merrily and placed her hand on the inside of Anwar’s thigh. Just a little touch. Well, a stroke.
He hadn’t liked it at all. Stood up and gone inside without a word. Truth be told, it was after that he became less friendly.
CHAPTER 11
Saika hadn’t actually experienced twists in her appetite or any of the other common pregnancy symptoms, although the smell of washing up liquid and shampoo made her feel nauseous. Now, looking at all the dishes filled with greasy gravies and Anwar chewing away on a wishbone, the thought of swallowing a piece of chunky chop made the pain at the top of her chest start up again. She wanted to be sick but knew she wouldn’t be. She imagined how the bits of meat and broken bone might get caught in the gap left by his missing tooth.
‘Shall I put some rice in for you?’ he said, filling up her plate.
‘No, please, that’s enough,’ she said, trying to fend off the advance of the spoon with her hand. He pushed a bowl of chicken towards her.
‘How was your trip? Did you see Farzana?’ she asked.
‘No, actually. We went to meet Pervez’s lady friends.’
‘The prostitutes?’
‘One of them. A woman called Raani.’
‘What happened? Did she tell you anything?’
‘Well it seemed Pervez saw her quite often. I think he talked to her a lot, liked to boast about what he’d done. Especially how he was going to ruin Farzana’s plans to build a new hotel. So she does have a motive for doing away with him. At the same time, she completely ruined Rafeeq’s credibility as a witness.’
He repeated what she’d told them about Rafeeq’s own antics at the Happy Suraj Guest House.
‘How well did you know Pervez?’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did you ever speak to him? Did you know him well before we got married?’
‘No! I mean, no not really. The first time I really spoke to him was that day when he came to the valima,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you feeling well? You’ve hardly eaten anything.’
She moved the plate away.
‘I’ll think I’ll just go up. I can’t stomach any more,’ she said.
‘Maybe it’s good you just have a rest. I’ll be up in a minute.’
He came into the room bearing mangoes. She was sitting up in bed, considering whether she was being completely stupid by staying there, knowing he might have done something terrible, might want to do still, or if she was putting a decent, innocent man at the centre of her irrational delusions.
All of it was speculation, but at least she now knew that he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. He hadn’t said anything at all about meeting Pervez on the evening of their wedding party.
‘Won’t say no to these, I hope?’ he said, kicking the door shut. ‘Don’t get up, I’ll come over there.’
She focused on the plate of fruit coming towards her, a knife laying across it, concentrating so hard that it began to look like it was floating.
‘What’s the matter? Do you want me to call the doctor?’ he said, sitting on his side of the bed, but facing her.
‘I’m just tired.’
He began cutting the mango up into slivers, the juice drenching his long, slim fingers. She thought his hands were beautiful. Hands were something she was extremely particular about. She’d even considered them before agreeing to marry him, quickly thinking of the few occasions she had met him, and not recalling them being especially disagreeable. She didn’t know what she would have done if, on the wedding day, she’d discovered that her memory had served her wrongly and he had a pair of podgy paws.
‘Now we’re alone, I want to apologise,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier.’
‘No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have been nosy. And you can take the doll back. Though I’ll admit I find it a little disturbing that you want it.’
Anwar looked across at the figure, lying face down on the table.
‘I don’t know where that came from. I’ve never seen it before.’
‘It’s obvious isn’t it? It’s supposed to be you. Zareena must have made it. Isn’t that one of your teeth?’
‘What?’ Leaving the plate on the pillow, he went round to the table. He picked it up, and then laughed. ‘I don’t know, it could be.’ He tossed it into the bin, and came back to his place on the bed.
He was gazing at her, and she thought he was going to kiss her, a thrill and a terror, but instead he took a bite from a piece of mango, then put the rest of it in her mouth.
‘Sweet, but a b
it powdery,’ he said.
She laughed, knowing exactly what he meant but never having heard anyone else describe it like that except herself. She felt better, and wanted to forget all her doubts, but she knew that although her spirit was content for a few moments, the facts remained.
‘If it wasn’t the doll, then what did you think I had taken?’ she said.
‘Oh..nothing… nothing in particular,’ he said. ‘Please don’t remind me. I’m ashamed to think of the way I spoke.’
Another lie.
There was a barely audible knock at the door.
‘I’m very sorry to disturb, but Madam insisted,’ said Gago. ‘I mentioned Memsahib wasn’t feeling well, and she told me to give you this. Special mint tea. Very good for the digestion.’
Anwar took the cup and put it on the bedside table.
‘Shall I take that downstairs?’ asked Gago, looking at the plate.
‘I’ll bring it when we’ve finished,’ said Anwar.
They ate the rest of the mango, then he tied up the bag in the bin, and took it down with him. The mint tea sat by the bed.
Anwar had told her what Raani had said, but without mentioning the knowing gleam in the woman’s eye, directed at him as she talked about connected ladies and Pervez confessing all to her. She probably did know, but if she’d wanted to tell everyone, she would have said something by now. He would sort her out if he had to.
Each time he learnt something new about Zareena, the love he’d once had for her felt diminished. Perhaps the doll’s magic really had worked. She’d wanted him to jump and skip at her bidding, and so here he still was, night after night, his brain unable to empty her out.
Black magic and bells. The tune of witches. He thought of the tales his grandmother had told him as a child, ghostly hags that wore anklets and walked backwards because their feet faced the wrong way.
Faintly, but still clear, he heard the tinkling again through the open window. This time it was irritating more than sinister, and he rose from the bed in anger. He opened the cupboard and took out a torch that was kept in there for the frequent power cuts, then quickly went out to the balcony. The mist was thick but he shone the torch towards the sound, which was loud now and more frantic. The swirls and streaks of fog were illuminated, and as the rattle retreated, Anwar could just define a figure running away. The hair was long and unkempt, and in the bright beam he could see the dress, not black like before but a vivid magenta floor length gown, scattered with big gold flowers. Anwar called out but the figure ran deeper into the night and disappeared. He cried out again in anger and helplessness. There was no point in going out there now, she was already gone. He stood leaning over the balcony, his pulse hammering with confusion and terror, as Saika slept inside and his dead wife’s face with its untamed midnight curls came back to him, smiling slyly as he gave her a purple brocade dress for their first anniversary.