You're Invited(24)

“Nice to see you, darling. You’re looking well,” one of the other aunties said, clawing for some attention herself. The way she said it made me feel anything but.

“I have to go get ready now. Aunty Preeni, Aunty Rajini, you will excuse me, won’t you? I have a jacket fitting with Andre soon.”

The aunties oohed and aahed as was befitting the mention of Andre’s name.

“I suppose you are here to accompany Kaavi to her fit-on, then?” one of the aunties asked me.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond, and Kaavi had already managed to extract herself as gracefully as possible and was on her way up the stairs.

“Go on. I’m sure you young ones have plenty to catch up on.”

Aunty Josephina flapped out her arms and turned her face toward me, inviting me for a Sri Lankan cheek kiss as well, which I awkwardly obliged with all the aunties, since to kiss just one would be terribly insulting to the others.

“We’ll see you soon, no doubt,” she said. There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

I was just turning around when I heard one of the aunties whisper—

“Is that the girl . . . ?”

“Shh!” She was silenced by Aunty Josephina, who didn’t let her smile slip.

I held my breath. I wonder what the gossips were saying about me now? Was it about Spencer? Or about what happened the last time I was here? I had hoped that word wouldn’t get out about either. As far as I was aware, only Kaavi knew about me and Spencer back home (who was I going to tell, anyway?), and the Fonsekas would burn their house to the ground before they let out what happened five years ago.

I wonder how it would feel to add just a little bit of poison to their canapés. Not enough to kill them, of course. Just enough to make them ill. For their skin to suddenly glisten and their cheeks to flush and their stomachs to clench before they started to cramp up. For the sudden and explosive vomiting to begin. For them to start gasping for air.

Mrs. Fonseka had remained near the staircase where we left her. She didn’t look shocked or angry anymore—her face was instead arranged into a pleasant, dangerous smile.

She reached for my arm as I walked by her, her fingers gripping hard around my flesh at an angle that the aunties couldn’t see.

“Kaavi might have invited you, but don’t think for a moment that I have forgotten about our agreement,” she hissed, the smile never leaving her face.

I nodded, a tight smile on my lips too. Like I could ever forget, even though I wished to every moment of every day.





AUNTY RAJINI


Interview Transcript: Rajini Thambiah (abbrev. RT)

Date: January 25, 2020

Location: The Mount Lavinia Hotel

RT: Can I know what all this commotion is? We’ve been treated like criminals—locked in our rooms from morning. Brought measly, cold food that we had to eat like beggars. Nihal and Fiona better have a proper explanation for this, I tell you.

[Pause]

Unless—well, we aren’t in any danger, are we? Is there some sort of psychopath or murderer running amok at the hotel? Is that why we’ve been kept locked away?

EP: I understand your frustration, Mrs. Thambiah, but we are dealing with an investigation here. We believe there is no immediate threat at present. Now, if you could please state your name and address for our records, we need to get started right away.

RT: Well, I’ll do this for the sake of Fiona. She must be out of her mind with worry, after all. I’m Rajini Thambiah, and I reside at 34 Francis Road, Wellawatte, when I am in Colombo. We usually spend April in Nuwara Eliya, you know, for the season. And we always fly to Australia to spend Christmas with my son’s family, even though it’s far too hot there at the time.

EP: But you were in Colombo on the morning of the twenty-first of January, for Fiona Fonseka’s brunch.

RT: Yes, we were planning this year’s dinner-dance. Preeni had this ridiculous idea to make it a costume party, and we were trying to discourage her. The last time we did that, one of the De Livera girls showed up in her underwear claiming it was a costume and our chapter was almost shut down for encouraging lewd behavior after someone took pictures and circulated them among those wretched gossip sites. You know, I think—

EP: So to confirm, you were at Mrs. Fonseka’s brunch on the twenty-first?

RT: Yes, my dear, though I can’t say I care for your tone.

EP: Was Miss Bloom present on that day?

RT: You mean Amaya Bloom, I suppose? Yes, she had slunk in. I didn’t even notice her at first. I thought she might have been a caterer or something. We were late to start as always. Fiona had kept us waiting, again. But then she came down the stairs and saw the Bloom girl and screamed bloody murder. I almost choked on my smoked salmon canapé.

EP: And what was the nature of her screaming?

RT: It almost gave me a heart attack, you know? I couldn’t breathe for a minute, at least. I even—

EP: Did Mrs. Fonseka say anything in particular, Mrs. Thambiah?

RT: Well, if you ask me, it seemed like Fiona had no idea the girl was coming. She looked like she had seen a ghost. I don’t blame her, you know. There were so many rumors circulating about that girl. She had quite the reputation, you know?

EP: Could you elaborate on that further, please?

RT: My dear, I thought this was an investigation. Not a place for gossip.