ANIKAA & THE ESCAPE- BOOK 2 OF ANIKAA SERIES

GOOD OLD MUMBAI

"Madame, Would you like to eat something?" asked the flight attendant courteously to Anikaa.

"No, just a strong cappuccino," said Anikaa.

"Sure mam."

Rachel glanced at Anikaa who was staring outside the windows in the pre-dawn reddish-orange sky. It was almost six am and they were thirty-five thousand feet above the ground. Rachel could hardly believe how she arranged the chartered flights in less than an hour from a remote island on Maldives. Anikaa hadn't revealed the details of her conversation with Jolly but her mood was grim since the phone call. Without informing anyone, they left the villa with a hand-written note and Rachel could clearly imagine glowering faces of Shireen, Prashant and sulking Nishant.

"Would you like to have some cake to go with it?" asked the attendant, back with Anikaa's coffee.

"No thanks," said Anikaa.

"We have fresh scones and croissant as well."

Rachel glanced at the attendant. Poor soul, he was trying his best to charm Anikaa to use the exclusive services of the lavish chartered plane. But Anikaa was lost in the pensive mood. Rachel, warily looked at Anikaa, there was definitely something troubling her. Anikaa was a tea-lover; she never took coffee in the morning and here she was on the verge of downing second cup of coffee without enjoying the froth swimming atop the cappuccino which she usually (no matter whatever people think) licks before even tasting the coffee. Rachel reposed her head on the seat. She closed her eyes for few seconds, just to relax them and before she knew she was snoring.

But someone was not sleeping, not getting affected by motion sickness. Jiyu disappeared and Mukund... No. It can't be a coincidence, thought Anikaa as once more the attendant made a round of polite enquiry of her requirements. It was... She closed her eyes as the light blue sky stretched its legs in the early morning sun. It can't be a coincidence; the thought crossed her mind again. Her eyes opened with a start as the pilot made a small announcement about approaching air turbulence but she closed it again as she sensed the attendant passing by her seat. No. It can't be a coincidence.

The flight landed in five hours and Anikaa waded through the crowd of the T2 terminal with Rachel sprinting behind her to catch up. Her luggage was brought out separately by the airport attendants.

"Mam," breathed Rachel. "I am sorry I forgot to inform Jivan of our arrival so he hasn't sent the car. Shall I...," said Rachel gasping for air.

"Don't worry Rachel," said Anikaa. "We are going to Khushboo," said Anikaa waving her hand for the taxi.

"The gallery?....Like now? But why? What's wrong?"

"We will know soon," said Anikaa.

The drive to the gallery was the most difficult for Rachel. Her head swarmed with all sorts of heart-rending ideas. What happened? Had there been any theft? Why, the paintings were insured but still they were worth millions and they were worth hours of mam's hard work. "Fire?...Oh!...no, no, no, god please, no...." mused Rachel twining her fingers absent-mindedly.

In an hour, the car halted in the parking bay of Anikaa's gallery which was situated in the heart of Malabar Hills. It was half-past eleven and the gallery was still shut.

"Why are we closed today?" asked Rachel, getting out of the car with Anikaa. "Of course there was a hurricane warning but nothing happened, right?"

Without answering, Anikaa strided through the marble steps and entered the gallery through the front door which was unlatched. There were about five people in the main hall in formal clothes, huddled together, mumbling in low volumes. They lifted their heads when Anikaa entered and stood on the spot as if marbleized- gazing at her.