Always and Forever

Chapter Six

"This is quite the, 'do' for a simple birthday party isn't it?" said Mrs. Prakash loudly as she grabbed a chicken tikka from a passing waiter and munched it. Lekha didn't reply and instead took a tissue and handed it over to her mother.

"Use the tissue mummy," she whispered, looking around and hoping no one had seen them. "Well, well, well. This is the second time today, what a pleasant surprise," said a quiet, polished voice, emphasising on the word, 'pleasant.'

Lekha stiffened and turned around. "Hello Ayesha," she said, keeping her voice even. "Second time? What second time?" piped in Mrs. Prakash. Lekha took a deep breath and looked around to see if there was anyone her mother's age around for her company. Ayesha Satrap smiled; her eyes hard. "We met at the airport aunty. Didn't Lekha tell you?"

Her mother nudged her. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked innocently. A small piece of chicken had stuck to the side of her mouth. Lekha was about to reach over when Ayesha pointed it out to her. "Oops, I am getting old," joked Mrs. Prakash. Ayesha laughed and slapped her on the shoulder. "Well, aren't we all?"

She didn't wait for a reply but turned around and moved away. "Well, she was always a nice girl, unlike that snobby mother of hers. Thinks her children are better than anyone else."

Lekha was quiet. Her mother coughed. "Did I embarrass you dearest? I am sorry if I did."

Lekha smiled and shook her head. She had not seen her mother enjoy herself so much since a long time and she wasn't going to spoil that by reprimanding her unnecessarily. "You seem happy," she said, running an arm through her mother's.

"Well, I am as close to happy I can be dearest. Both my daughters are home and we are out for the evening. We do not have any pressing financial concerns right now and this entire pleasurable thing is free," she declared, making sure to keep her voice down. Lekha laughed. Her mother was impossible sometimes.

"Well, some people never change, do they?" a familiar voice she hadn't heard in years cut into their little conversation and Lekha and Mrs. Prakash whipped around stunned. There stood an old lady, graceful in bearing, alongside an immaculately dressed man.

Lekha blinked and gasped, suddenly feeling short of breath.

There he was, muse of her dreams and waking nightmares. The man she had fixated upon for more than a decade. He was clean-shaven unlike his earlier rugged look and there were glints of grey in his short hair, but he was still stunningly handsome.

Lekha smiled back, recovering herself.

She knew without looking that people were looking at them covertly, waiting to see their reaction.

Mrs. Satrap took both her hands in her own and squeezed them in a show of affection.

"Hello dear, I was talking about you. I saw you from across the room and thought how you haven't changed one whit from the last time I saw you," said Mrs. Satrap sweetly.

That was it. She had always behaved with the utmost charm, never treating Lekha with anything other than unfailing politeness. There had never been a word spoken in anger or even an indirect insult but Lekha had never felt comfortable with her, rightly understanding that the woman disliked her intensely. Lekha had never understood why. Her mother had always assured her it was just the age-old issue the mother not willing to relinquish her son to another woman, but Lekha had always felt that her dislike had a reason beyond that.

"Nice to meet you too Mrs. Satrap," she said, taking back her hands gently. She avoided looking at Aman, but the heat rushed to her chest and face all the same.