The Direction of the Wind: A Novel(24)

“No cigarettes either, I suppose,” Mathieu said.

She didn’t want to say that she often saw men smoking in India, but they were from the lower castes. Certainly, Rajiv and her family members would have never engaged in a vice worse than the occasional paan after dinner, letting the tobacco and spice-wrapped betel leaves linger in their mouths until their tongues were deep red.

“They probably didn’t need them there,” Simon said, smiling at Nita. “I never smoked in California. It’s just so damn cold here that you need something to keep you warm.”

“It does get much colder here,” she agreed.

Simon winked at her. “You might find yourself turning to the tobacco stick soon. This isn’t even the worst of the weather!”

Something about Simon made her feel at ease, and she reached for his cigarette. “No harm in trying,” she said.

Mathieu looked between them curiously as she adjusted her grip on the cigarette. It warmed her fingers as she brought it to her lips and parted them slowly. It didn’t seem that bad as her lips moistened the paper.

“You need to inhale,” Simon said.

She slowly took a breath and felt the smoke in her mouth. The coughing was almost instantaneous, and she quickly removed the cigarette from her lips. The boys chuckled in a way that suggested her reaction reminded them of their first times smoking.

“You get the hang of it,” Simon said, taking back the cigarette, his lips now covering the place where hers had just been.

“You just need practice, ma chérie,” Mathieu said, passing his cigarette to her, the look in his eyes territorial, as if he wanted to make sure that if she were sharing a cigarette with anyone, it would be him. The waiter left the check on the table, and Mathieu retrieved some notes and coins to cover it. She was relieved that despite his comment earlier, he had picked up the bill.

She took his cigarette and tried again but had the same result. “Perhaps I will practice another time,” she said.

And practice she did over the next month. Simon had been right. As the temperature dropped, she got past the coughing and found the warmth in her mouth a relief from the cold air against her face. Mathieu was generous with his cigarettes and seemed to have an endless supply. She hadn’t bought a single one yet. When she wasn’t with Mathieu, she was with Simon, serving as a model for his students, and then he supplied her with them to help fight off the cold. It was a habit she was beginning to crave and one easily satisfied by both men she was spending time with.





13


SOPHIE


2019


On her walk back to the hotel in the Marais, Sophie feels adrenaline surging through her. She met someone who knew Nita! What were the chances of it being that easy? She cannot help but wonder if Nita is somewhere around her. Maybe just a few streets or even mere buildings away from the hotel. Maybe Sophie would even pass by her on the street. What would she look like now? Would Sophie recognize her after all this time? Would she recognize Sophie? She realizes it is crazy and Nita could be anywhere, but it was also crazy to find the same receptionist at Le Canard Volant who was there when Nita had first checked in. The odds of that had to be one in a million, if not more. Bhagwan was smiling upon her today, so she had to keep hope.

She also could not believe that her mummy had a boyfriend here. And so soon after leaving India. Was it so easy for Nita to forget about her life in Ahmedabad and move on? The thought incites Sophie even though she remains desperate to find the woman who had abandoned her and Papa for this racy new life in Paris. Sophie had had so little to warrant anger or resentment as a child because Papa ensured that she had everything she wanted, but now she feels bitterness on so many levels. She tries to imagine a world in which Nita would have a cigarette dangling from her lips and her arm around a man other than Rajiv! The thought of it is almost cartoonish, but Sophie must recalibrate the person she remembers as her mummy and replace those images with the person she became.

She isn’t sure what to do next to find Nita. She contemplates asking Saumil Uncle and Anjali Auntie for help. They have been so kind to her, and she doesn’t want to impose further on them. But their help could go a long way. They know Paris much better than she does and speak the language, so they could be a valuable resource if she were willing to open up to them. By the time she gets back to the hotel, she has convinced herself that this is the right decision. The stakes are too high to rely solely on herself.



Sophie opens the door to their shared hotel room very quietly so she won’t disturb Uncle and Auntie in case they are taking a nap. When she enters the room, she sees no one is there. The beds are still unmade. She scans the room, suddenly realizing there isn’t a trace of them left. And her suitcase still sits in the corner where she had left it, but its contents have been tousled.

She races to the luggage and falls to her knees, digging through her clothing to the places where she had tucked away the bulk of the money she had brought with her, separating the stacks as an added safety measure, just like Papa had taught her. She knows the thick wads of rupees that convert to nearly €3,000 will not be there, but she removes everything from the suitcase and shakes it out, holding out the last bit of hope she has because what else can she do? She realizes that her mobile is missing, too, but that seems less troubling given that it hadn’t worked here anyway. She knows she has been swindled by them, like in the plot of a Bollywood movie.