Shaking with nervousness, falling over himself, Jyoti Das managed to catch her in his arms. She leant against his shoulder, eyes downcast. I hope I didn’t hurt you, she said.
He stared at her tongue-tied, his forehead filming over with sweat. She could feel his groin quivering against her thigh. She swayed, and her breast brushed against his arm. A spasm seemed to shoot through him and he clutched helplessly at her blouse. Oh God, he breathed hoarsely into her neck, oh God …
Then there was a rustle in the corridor as Mrs Verma came hurrying back, and Kulfi shook herself out of his arms. Where did you disappear, Mrs Bose? Mrs Verma cried. She looked from Kulfi, gazing demurely at the floor, to Jyoti Das, standing frozen beside her, and a tiny eddy of suspicion stirred in her mind.
The land-rover’s come, she said to Kulfi. Shall we go to the café now?
She saw Kulfi glancing at Jyoti Das and, turning to him, she said sharply: You have to go out for lunch now, Mr Das. Dr Mishra’s waiting for you. Don’t waste time.
Jyoti Das went quickly back to the other room.
So, Mrs Bose? she said. Shall we go now? Of course, if you’re very tired you can stay here and rest.
To her surprise Kulfi nodded eagerly. Yes, she said, raising her hands to her temples. I’m very tired and I have a headache. I think I’ll rest here.
Achchha, Mrs Verma said doubtfully. But before leaving the house she went back again and handed Kulfi a crimson sari and box from her dressing-table. While you’re waiting, she said, you may as well try on your costume.
Later, in the land-rover, she said to her husband: These people are so … so strange. Do you think they’re all right?
He said nothing.
That Mrs Bose doesn’t seem, she carried on, at all like a married woman. And I must say she was behaving very strangely a little while ago. Mr Das, too …
Mrs Verma stared silently at a ration-shop.
They’re not like anyone I’ve ever met: that husband and that ayah — so strange. I just can’t place them. She fell silent. But just before they reached the café she added: Still, I suppose she’ll make a good Chitrangada.
On the way back she and her husband took turns at examining Boss, while Zindi heaped them with information about his symptoms.
He’ll be all right, she said, handing him back to Zindi. I’ll give you some medicine for him when we get back. She glanced at Alu, thinking of starting a conversation, but he was sitting so dourly hunched up, with his hands under his legs, that she thought the better of it and looked ahead.
When the land-rover drew up, she jumped out, relieved to be back, and led them quickly into the house. Come, she said, I’ll show you the way. But when she reached their room she found that only Zindi was following her; Alu had disappeared.
She found him crouching in the middle of her drawing-room, staring at Hem Narain Mathur’s old bookcase in startled confusion.
What are you doing here, Mr Bose? she said in surprise. Come and look at your wife. You won’t recognize her — she’s Chitrangada now.
Alu had snapped upright as soon as he heard her voice. He stood staring at her uncertainly, shifting his feet, with his hands behind his back.
Come on, she said briskly. Follow me.
But at the door she stopped, puzzled, and looked at the bookcase and then at him and back again. Why, Mr Bose, she said at last, when I came in you were staring at my father’s old bookcase as though it had just spoken to you.
Kulfi! Zindi shrieked. What’re you doing to your face? Stop it. You can’t go out looking for customers here in the desert; you gave that up when you left India.
Swathed in a zari-spangled sari, corseted by the heavy gold thread of the fabric, Kulfi was sitting stiffly upright before a looking-glass, powdering her already paper-white face. Zindi snatched the powder puff out of her hand. Stop it now, Kulfi, she cried. What d’you think you’re doing?
Don’t you know? Kulfi flashed her a brilliant smile. Today I’m a princess; I’m Chitrangada.
Chitra … what? Zindi gasped. Listen, you bitch. Today you’re no different from what you were when I first met you. You’re Kulfi the small-time callgirl whose MA-pass husband turned her to whoring when he lost his fancy job; you’re pale-faced, unemployed old Kulfi who came to me in Bangalore and said, Take me to al-Ghazira and give me some honest work.
No, Kulfi hissed, her voice quavering on the edge of hysteria. Today I’m Chitrangada, princess of Manipur.
Zindi’s mouth dropped open: Princess of what-place? You’re a princess, are you, you two-pice whore?
Just listen to that! Kulfi trilled with laughter, and the bangles that covered her arm in a sheen of plastic armour tinkled in counterpoint. I’m a whore? You dare say that to me when you’ve got the Grand Trunk Road between your legs and no toll-gates, either?
Still laughing, she dipped her fingertips into a small lead pot of sindur and filled her parting with a gash of bleeding vermilion. Today, she said, smiling at her reflection, I’m Chitrangada, princess of Manipur. You can go and ask Mrs Verma if you like. She’s an educated woman like me, not a gutter-slut like you. She’ll tell you. I’m Chitrangada and I’m going to marry Arjuna, hero of heroes.
Zindi’s eyes narrowed: You’re going to marry who?
Arjuna. He’s fallen in love with my beauty.
Zindi shot a quick worried look at Alu. Then she laid Boss on the bed and stood over Kulfi. Look, Kulfi, she said quietly, don’t give me any more of this phoos-phas or I’ll knock the teeth out of your mouth. Tell me quickly: who is this Arjuna?
He’s a man who’s staying here, said Kulfi. He’s Arjuna and I’m Chitrangada.
Zindi took hold of her shoulders and shook her till her bangles began to clatter. Who is he, Kulfi? she said. Tell me quick.
Kulfi slapped angrily at Zindi’s hands. Let me go, she said. I’ve told you what I know. Why don’t you go and ask him if you’re so curious?
Grinding her knuckles against her teeth, Zindi sank on to the bed. Kulfi, she said, drawing a breath in a long, whistling gasp. Is he the Bird-man?
Kulfi’s hands froze in the act of raising a tin tiara to her head. The Bird-man? she whispered. I don’t know. I haven’t ever seen your Bird-man, remember? I’m the only one. And he hadn’t seen me before, either.
Then she remembered how he had looked at her when she first entered the room, how his eyes had followed her, and she pealed with delighted, girlish laughter and crowned herself. Don’t worry, she said. Even if he is the Bird-man, I’ll manage him. You’ll be safe.
What did he look like, tell me, quick? Zindi said.
Before Kulfi could finish the first sentence of her answer, Zindi knew. It’s him, she wailed, it’s him. He’s got us now.
Yes, it is him, Kulfi said. I remember now; he said he was looking for a vulture.
A vulture? Zindi breathed. He’s come with a vulture?
Stop moaning, Kulfi snapped. Didn’t I tell you it’ll be all right? Aren’t you listening or what?
As she got up to leave, Zindi snatched at her arms: You can’t go with him waiting out there. I won’t let you.
Kulfi snorted contemptuously: Why don’t you try to stop me? Her eyes fell on Alu, standing by the door, and she stopped dead. Listen, you, she snarled at him, if you go anywhere near that bed I’ll tear your rotten thumbs off. She peeled away the bedcovers and flung them into a corner. You can make your nest there, she said and stormed out of the room.
Alu hesitated, then backed away towards the door.
Where are you going? Zindi snapped at him.