The Bandit Queens (58)

“Look, it will throw off any suspicions of poison if it looks like we all ate the same meal. Haven’t you ever seen an episode of C.I.D.?”

It was dinnertime and the streets were fairly empty, though some men in dhotis squatted outside their homes to roll and smoke prandial beedis. The scent of tobacco braided the air. Geeta unwillingly thought of Karem and how he’d tasted of smoke, though she’d never seen him with a cigarette. Focus, she scolded herself. Saloni’s curry smelled delicious enough to draw a few jokes from the smoking men about sharing.

“Oh, you don’t want any of this,” Saloni quipped. “Too fattening. It’ll kill ya.” Everyone except Geeta laughed.

Saloni, it seemed, had no qualms about what she carried. Above them, lines of shining tinsel loped from building to building, leftovers from the festival decorations. They’d been strung perpendicular to the power lines, forming an overhead grid.

Geeta whispered, “But I don’t want to be there when he…you know.”

“You think I do? We won’t be there for that. He won’t die-die for one or two days after.”

“Oh, okay,” Geeta deadpanned. “What a relief then.”

“Plotting is all well and good, Geeta, but it’s hard to actually execute these kinds of things alone.”

“Farah managed,” Geeta grumbled.

“Oh, and now Farah is the gold standard, is it? Farah, who’s fallen in her drunk husband’s footsteps to snatch your money?”

Geeta’s groan was baleful. “One woman’s blackmailing me to kill her husband and the other is blackmailing me for killing her husband. God knows which unlucky star I was born under.”

“I told you the crazies flock to you.”

“Why not you?”

Saloni balanced her dish with one hand so she could flex a bicep. “?‘If they are one, I am a one and a quarter.’?”

“So humble,” Geeta snorted. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve had a crap day.”

“You’re not the only one. Those crows attacked me. I was shat on. And that was one of my favorite saris, you know. Farah said it was totally unsalvageable. But she’s turning it into matching kurtas for the kids.”

“You went to Farah?” Geeta gaped.

Saloni shrugged. “What? She’s the best tailor in the village.”

Geeta rubbed her forehead as they approached Preity and Priya’s door. Saloni knocked. It still bore Karva Chauth decorations, scarlet bunting lining the doorway. Two unlit diyas were on the ground, next to a hill of sandals. The lamps were tear-shaped, the wick resting against the peak. How had she never realized that diyas were shaped like vulvas? Geeta shook her depraved head. Che. One kiss and suddenly she was some randy—

Preity answered the door, Priya behind her. “He’s napping, come quietly!”

As the twins led Saloni through the dim hallway, Geeta lagged behind, peering at their home. The space was very large, though she supposed it’d have to be to accommodate two families. She passed a dining area and common room to join the others in the kitchen, where the women surveyed the meal. The twins had prepared a sizable amount of spicy vegetable curry. Saloni had matched the recipe, but had added cashews and, of course, pong pong.

“All the kids ate with Zubin’s parents earlier, so it’ll just be the six of us for dinner.” Preity extended her hennaed hands in an invitation. Priya gripped one and Saloni the other. Each reached out for Geeta’s to form a circle. She did not want to, but her hands rose of their own accord.

Preity exhaled with gravitas. “I just want to say thank you, sisters. You are my strength when I have none.”

Priya said, “?‘We are here to help our own and fellow sisters.’?”

The rest of them joined in the loan oath, even Geeta. “?‘We will help sisters of our center in a time of crisis.’?”

When Geeta moved to free her hands, Priya held fast. Preity looked at her. “Saloni just told us that Farah’s blackmailing you, Geetaben. It’s underhanded.”

“Like, so underhanded.”

“Don’t you worry. As soon as Darshan is gone, Ramesh will be here and Farah won’t have any leverage.”

Priya squeezed Geeta’s damp hand. “We’re in this together now, Geetaben. Don’t be tensed.”

“Aren’t any of you worried that Farah will figure it out when Darshan also dies? She may blackmail us all!”

Saloni shook her head. “There are more of us than her. If she pushes her luck, we’ll get her in line. But one thing at a time.”

Preity grinned. “Let’s pluck this bastard’s mustache!”

Maybe the village hadn’t turned into a lunatic asylum after all, Geeta thought, dazed. Maybe they were all normal and she was the only lunatic. Was sanity, like beauty, in the eye of the beholder?

After Preity returned from rousing Darshan so he could freshen up, the women set the table. It was a different experience for Geeta, placing water cups next to each identical steel plate. She was accustomed to eating alone at her desk. But most families usually ate cross-legged on the ground. This house, however, had a proper, circular dining table with mismatched chairs. Saloni’s did as well, Geeta remembered from her visit, but then again, Saloni also had a refrigerator. The women sat down and waited for the men. Between them, a lazy Susan held a jug of water, papadam and green chili pickle.