‘What did I—?’
‘No, no, no,’ Nathan said, playing with the old-fashioned glass paperweight on his desk, ‘I talk. You listen. I’m done listening, remember? What the fuck did you think you were doing stalking Aisha Juneja?’
Avantika opened her mouth to laugh. But Nathan looked dead serious.
‘I didn’t … what?’
‘So you didn’t follow her to her friend’s house, her recently deceased friend’s house, and harass that girl’s mother for information?’
Avantika felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. ‘That’s not what … I didn’t … that’s ridiculous, Nathan!’
‘I agree. It is ridiculous that someone at my newspaper is pulling stunts like this! Do you think this is India bloody TV? It is not!’ He leaned forward and for the first time since she’d taken the job, Avantika felt genuinely scared. His voice was a menacing whisper. ‘I have put up with a lot of crap to keep this paper running but I will not put up with this!’
He sat back and took a deep breath.
‘You will apologize. In writing. And you will keep away from Ms Juneja … which, if you are to be believed, was what you wanted in the first place!’
Avantika grit her teeth. ‘I won’t say sorry,’ she said quietly.
‘Oh yes, you will,’ Nathan said, holding up a warning finger. ‘I’ve fired people who mean a lot more than you to this paper, for a lot less. My patience with you is running out, Pandit. You turn up your nose at features, you’re too chicken to do some actual reporting and you don’t seem to have a stop button for your mouth. And guess what? Your designer friend knows some pretty important people. So you’re saying sorry or you’re out of a job.’
He turned back to yesterday’s edition of the Mumbai Daily that was lying on his desk. The conversation was clearly over, as far as he was concerned. To hell with that, Avantika thought.
‘First of all, and I’ve been saying this since day one, Aisha is not my friend’ she said, almost slurring over the words in anger, “But you know who was? Laxmi! The girl who died! I didn’t go over there to harass anyone, I went there because that’s what you do if a friend dies! Secondly, I don’t care who Aisha knows and I don’t care what they can do. But most of all, Nathan, I can’t believe you are lecturing me about being chicken! We’re doing listicles, Nathan! Twenty-five ways to wear a messy braid! Thirty ways to make a great first impression! Forty-five ways to use lemongrass in the kitchen! Lemongrass, Nathan, lemongrass! Don’t fucking tell me about being chicken, when we’re going to carry its fucking health benefits the day we’re a column short of beauty tips!’
She could feel the pinpricks of angry tears in her eyes. She blinked them back. Nathan had been looking at her without any expression since she had begun her rant.
‘Sit down.’ His voice was quiet and just as blank as his face.
She breathed out, letting the anger subside just a fraction. Then she sat down.
‘Do you know why I hired you?’, he asked.
‘Because there weren’t any typos—’
‘Sure, because that’s the most important qualification I’d look for in a reporter, right?’
Avantika held up both hands in a ‘who knows’ gesture. He shook his head.
‘I hired you because I know how you ended up at Belle.’
Avantika held her breath.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I know what happened at the Herald, Pandit,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘It wasn’t the first time it’s happened in our industry and it certainly won’t be the last. Quitting your job over it was very … idealistic.’
He may as well have said ‘idiotic’. He certainly used the same tone.
‘Yes, well,’ she said. ‘Silly me. I thought MPs being bribed to pass civil work contracts was something people deserved to know about. I didn’t think the story would get clamped, by the editor, of all people.’
‘Why not?’ Nathan asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Editors are people too. If you cut us, do we not bleed? If you threaten our families, do we not shit bricks?’
Avantika shrugged.
‘Although, in this case,’ Nathan said, looking at the ceiling, ‘it was Shiv Dharmadhikhari, the owner of the Herald, who got threatened. Still, tomaytoes, tomahtoes.’
‘I don’t care,’ Avantika said. ‘If I had to do it all over again, I’m not sure I’d act any differently.’
Nathan raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really? And here I thought you were the sensible type.’
‘Sensible, yes. Cynical, no.’
Nathan laughed a bitter, half-hearted laugh. ‘Cynics are born from the ashes of idealists, Pandit. Nobody gets into journalism thinking “I want to write pointless drivel nobody cares about”. And then you grow up and find out that’s all anyone cares about.’
He took off his spectacles and blew on them, his breath fogging up the lens.
‘You were a reporter before you joined Belle. I hired you to see if you were still a reporter. But from what I’ve seen so far, you’re stuck in limbo. Too disillusioned to do real news, not disillusioned enough to like features.’
He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest.
‘Incidentally, those listicles you’re whining about have a readership. A young readership. Do you know what happens when newspapers don’t have a young readership anymore? They shut down, Pandit. Ask your Neetu Malini from Belle. I’m not exaggerating. The Buzzfeeds and Scoopwhoops of the world are hammering nails in our collective coffin. We need every pair of eyes we can get and if it means putting listicles in the damned paper, hell I’ll write one myself!’
He got up and walked to the window, standing with his back to her. On the wall next to him, trapped agelessly in a black-and-white photograph, a younger Nathan laughed at someone’s joke.
‘Write the apology,’ he said, looking out of the window. ‘It’s not worth fighting for.’
She turned and walked out of his cabin. He was right. And that wasn’t even the most depressing thing about that conversation.
Uday was loitering outside the cabin, looking worried. ‘What happened, everything okay?’
‘Pretty much,’ Avantika said not stopping. ‘Listen, how do you feel about alcohol?’
Uday’s forehead creased in confusion, as he fell in step with her. ‘I’m pro it. Where are you going?’
‘Someplace that serves alcohol.’
Uday glanced at his watch. It was just after six in the evening. ‘Isn’t it a little early for that?’ he asked.
‘Nope,’ she said, as she reached her desk. Packing her things into her bag haphazardly she said, ‘I’ll be just in time for happy hour.’
She closed the bag shut and swung it onto her shoulder. Then, as an afterthought, she grabbed a clean sheet of A4 paper from her desk and began writing as Uday peered over her shoulder.
‘Dear Ms. Juneja,’ he read, ‘I apologize for stalking you and invading the privacy of your friends and family. It was an unconscionable act on my part and I am truly sorry for the pain and inconvenience I have caused. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. Sincerely, Avantika Pandit.’
He stared at Avantika, speechless. ‘Wait—’ he managed, but she ignored him.
Folding the paper neatly, she looked around and spotted Wayne, who happened to be around.
‘Hey Wayne,’ she said waving him over. ‘Can you do me a huge favour?’
The boy looked at her suspiciously. This was a degree of politeness he clearly didn’t expect from her. ‘Er … sure,’ he said.
She handed him the piece of paper and smiled sweetly at him. ‘Can you just hand this over to Nathan Uncle, please? Thanks a ton, I owe you one.’
Then, without missing a beat, she took her bag and set off towards the elevator. Uday, who had snapped out of his shock by now, ran ahead and blocked her path.
‘Look, just stop for a second, okay? This isn’t some bloody episode of Newsroom. Can you just stand still for a minute and tell me what the
hell is going on?’
Avantika stopped. She took a deep breath and looked at him. ‘No,’ she said and walked past him into the elevator, ‘but if you come along, you can hear all about it.’ She held the elevator door open for him.
Uday stared at her for a second. He had a story to file, a couple of sources to talk to and some facts to cross-check before he was done for the day. On the other hand, what kind of an investigative reporter would he be, if he turned down a story like this?
He grinned.
Seven
‘Long. Island. Eyes. Thingy. Drink. Tea? Tea! That’s it! That’s what I call value for money.’
They were sitting at the bar in Khar Social. Around them, young people of all shapes and sizes lounged on mismatched chairs, paying scant attention to the exposed bricks and chunky pipes—hallmarks of the industrial chic school of interior design. The air was filled with pop music, laughter and earnest voices trying to be witty for the benefit of the opposite sex.
Uday took a swig of his beer and grinned. ‘Then how come you’re not drinking one?’
Avantika held on to her mojito protectively. ‘Because it tastes like crap, duh.’
Avantika had finished telling him about Aisha’s incredible accusation somewhere around her second drink. It had been a Cosmopolitan. Or maybe a Moscow Mule. It was hard to say. It had been a while ago.
‘Like Jägerbombs,’ she continued. ‘What is up with those? How can people put something that vile in their mouths? Can you not get drunk on something that tastes good?’
Uday shook his head and smiled. The place was slowly filling up and already he’d gotten a once-over from a rather cute woman in a fetching floral dress. He was considering sending a drink over to her when another woman looked in his direction, her eyes flashing with recognition. This one was wearing a loose tank top and ripped jeans, a scarf thrown idly around her neck. Long, wavy hair and horn-rimmed librarian glasses completed the look. She was pretty in a hipster kind of way, pretty enough for a guy to remember having a conversation with. Uday was sure he hadn’t met her before and so had no clue why she was walking towards him so purposefully. He straightened up and squared his shoulders. Maybe he did know her and was having the worst-timed case of amnesia possible. These things happened. Not to him, but they happened. He was about to smile at her when she looked right past him and said, ‘Avanti? Oh my god, it’s been so long!’ She threw her hands around Avantika in a bear hug.
‘Vibs!’ exclaimed Avantika, returning the hug with a smile more good-natured than any Uday had ever seen her give another human being. ‘How are ya?’
‘I’m fine, girl,’ said Vibs, giving Uday a polite smile.
‘What have you been up to?’
‘Psssh, work,’ replied Avantika. ‘Also, drinking. You want some?’ she asked, holding out her glass.
The other girl laughed good-naturedly. Uday cleared his throat, hoping Avantika would take the hint and introduce him. They both ignored him.
‘Nope, I got my own,’ Vibs said, pointing to a girl further down the bar collecting two drinks with umbrellas from the bartender. Then she dropped her voice a bit and asked with genuine concern, ‘How’ve you been holding up?’
Avantika squinted at her. ‘I don’t know, Vibs,’ she said with a shrug, ‘life is just screwing around with me these days. But hey, at least I can afford vodka, right?’
The girl nodded in a way that made Uday feel like he was missing a significant amount of subtext.
‘You hang in there, girl,’ said Vibs rubbing Avantika’s arm, ‘don’t even think about that bastard. I can’t believe he’d do that to you.’
‘I know!’ Avantika said. A second later, she frowned and asked, ‘Wait, what?’
‘If I were you, I’d go over and punch him the face, that asshole.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Rishi and Natasha,’ the girl said, rolling her eyes. Catching the blank look on Avantika’s face, she covered her mouth with her hand in horror. ‘Oh God! You haven’t heard!’
Avantika shook her head but that only made the world swim before her eyes, so she stopped. ‘What now?’ she asked wearily.
‘Avanti, they’re getting married next month. I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.’
Avantika gave her a long look. Then she lifted her glass and took a slow sip. Putting the glass down deliberately, she said, ‘Good for them.’
Vibs waited for more, but Avantika just looked at her politely. About fifteen seconds of awkward silence later, Uday cleared his throat again.
‘Hi, I’m Uday,’ he said brightly, ‘have we met before?’
It was an hour later. The place had a lot in common with Avantika—both were buzzing. And becoming increasingly noisy.
‘I mean … why, right?’ Avantika was saying. ‘Why do people feel obl… oblig… like they need to tell me what is happenin’ in his life? I don’ care. I’m happy not knowin’. Don’ they … gethaa?’
Uday shook his head. ‘No, they don’t. People are dumbasses.’
‘Yes! They! Are!’ Avantika said, pointing a finger at him emphatically. ‘Stupid Vibha. I’m naw even in touch with her! And now I know why!’
She gulped her drink and made a face. It was an appletini. ‘Should’ve stuck to mojitos,’ she mumbled.
‘Yeah, that’s not the problem,’ Uday said, shaking his head.
‘Whaa?’
‘Nothing, never mind.’
‘No, no,’ she said, squinting at him. ‘What did you mean?’
‘Look … it’s … nothing,’ he said.
She punched him in the arm and he looked at her, eyebrows raised.
‘Really? I go to the gym.’
‘Just tell me!’
Kicking himself mentally, he took a swig of beer.
‘Alright, here it is. I think you’re running away from how pissed off you are at Rishi. You say you don’t care what he’s doing, but you’re sitting here priming yourself for liver poisoning because you just found out he’s getting married. You haven’t gone out with anyone since you guys broke up. I’m not saying, you know, get on Tinder or anything, but not one date in two years? Come on—’
‘Hey, that’s because—’
‘All I’m saying is, if you’re pissed off at him, stop acting like you’ve moved on. Stop saying you don’t care, stop—’
‘I have moved on, I do not care—’
‘I saw your face when that chick told you the news! Who’re you kidding? You’re still hung up over that piece of shit and—,’ he broke off with an exasperated sigh. ‘Look, it’s your life, but throw it away for something better than that moron.’
Avantika glared at him, then her shoulders sagged. ‘It’s not like that,’ she said quietly. The warm glow of alcoholic joy had drained away from her face. Her gaze hardened. ‘Rishi and I … we went out of seven years, off and on,’ she said, staring straight ahead of her. ‘We’d break off, then get back together, then break off. Over and over again. But you already know that.’
Uday nodded, his face grim.
She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘In those seven years, Uday, my head was full of him. Do you understand? I hated him and loved him and just … fucking hated his guts, because he was such a toxic prick, but I felt those things for him, you know? Even after he cheated on me with Natasha … I felt angry with her, I felt pissed off with him. And I felt disgusted with myself for taking so long to work out that they were fucking around behind my back. That whole relationship made me hate myself, okay? And all that crap, those … those are feelings. You can’t get rid of seven years of feelings in two years, even if those feelings are mostly … homicidal.’
She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. Her fingers tightened around the cold sides of her glass. ‘At first, I blamed myself. I mean, why would a guy cheat on a girl, if she was great, right? I thought I must’ve been too demanding, too sarcastic, too I don’t know … maybe not hot enough. But then I thought, okay, that explains why he d
id it. But why did my best friend have to sleep with my fiancé? What kind of asshole does that?’ She ran her fingers through her hair and clenched at her scalp.
‘The kind that doesn’t believe in bros before hoes,’ said Uday, patting her back.
‘Sisters before misters,’ Avantika corrected him. ‘That’s the one for women. Except in my specific case, it seems the rule is “misters before Avantika” or possibly, “everything before Avantika”.’
Uday shrugged and sipped his beer. ‘No, wallow, wallow. That’s what self-pity is for.’
‘I’m serious! This is an actual problem! I’m not anyone’s priority friend.’
Uday’s brow furrowed. ‘Is that a credit card company thing?’
She grinned in spite of herself. ‘No, you ass, I meant I don’t have any friends for whom I’m the number one priority. You know. Someone they’d drop everything for.’
‘Thanks. For your information, there are about half a dozen things I could be doing right now.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I meant women friends—’
He shook his head and made a face. ‘There’s always something with you, isn’t it? Here I am, a devastatingly handsome, intelligent, charming, single man—’
‘Modest, you forgot modest.’
‘… modest man, thank you, who is ignoring all the hot women in this place to be your agony aunt, but no, I must have a uterus too!’
She laughed and took a sip of her drink. He grinned back then looked at the message that had just popped up on his phone.
‘Yes, yes, all right, point taken,’ she said. ‘I mean the world to you and there is nothing more important than me right now.’
Uday looked up from his phone. ‘Yeah, I gotta go,’ he said.
‘What!’ she said, throwing her hands up.
‘Sorry, you know that Sion murder case? My source just found someone who can talk to me about it. But he needs to meet right now.’
Avantika narrowed her eyes at him in mock menace. ‘What the hell happened to chivalry?’
‘Don’t tell me you forgot? I thought I saw you at the funeral.’
She pointed a threatening finger at him. ‘You better make this up to me,’ she growled.
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