Unmarriageable(37)

‘Oh, but,’ Mrs Binat said, ‘if one is going to get infected and die, it should be in a facility such as this—’

‘Mummy,’ Alys said, interrupting her, ‘why don’t you go to reception and settle the bill?’

‘I’ve taken care of it,’ Bungles said.

‘First-class gentleman,’ Mrs Binat said.

‘But you can’t,’ Alys said to Bungles. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Please,’ Bungles said. ‘Jena was our guest at the polo match, and my sisters and I insist that we take care of this.’

Alys glanced at Hammy and Sammy. They were insisting no such thing.

‘No,’ Alys said.

‘Aunty’ – Bungles turned to Mrs Binat – ‘I will take it as a personal insult if you do not let me foot the bill.’

‘Hai,’ Mrs Binat said, ‘that we should die before insulting you. May Allah grant you the pocket and power to foot a million such bills.’

‘Jena,’ Lady said, ‘you should stay a whole month now that we are not paying.’

‘Lady!’ Alys glanced at a tight-faced Darsee.

‘It’s a joke!’ Lady said. ‘Alys, you have no sense of humour. So boring all the time.’

‘Alys is not boring,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘Not all the time.’ She dug her eyes into Darsee, who was looking sullenly at the black-and-white-tiled floor. ‘She is also very attractive, and anyone who can’t see that should get their eyes examined. Smart too, in her own way. At her school debate club, Alys was two-time gold medalist, and she was also backstroke champion, though I’m not in favour of girls playing sports. Take swimming. It makes the girls’ necks very beefy, and goodbye to wearing necklaces. Bungles, are you in favour of girls swimming-shimming? You watch Olympics?’

‘I do.’ Bungles nodded even as he made eyes at his sisters and Jaans to stop laughing.

‘You must come watch Olympics with us in Dilipabad,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘Our cook makes the best Chinese food. Humeria-Sumeria, Jaans, you must also come.’ She smiled at Jaans, who gave her two thumbs-up and said, ‘Go D-bad,’ and then she said curtly to Darsee, ‘You also come.’

‘Mummy,’ Alys said, standing up, ‘Jena needs to nap.’



After managing to send her mother and sisters home, Alys disappeared into the attached bathroom to shower and change. As she slipped out of her T-shirt and tracksuit trousers and shoved them into the bag, she hoped that everyone else would leave too. She’d love an evening alone with Jena, the two of them discussing Bungles at the match, and everything else. She emerged a half hour later, after a hot shower, smelling of gardenia-scented shampoo, water dripping off her curls and onto her red V-necked sweater and jeans, delighted to find that Sammy and Jaans had left in her absence after, apparently, quarrelling yet again over whose contribution to their marriage was more vital: her money or his pedigree.

Alys took her Kolhapuri chappals out of her bag and slid her feet into them. She hoped that Bungles, Hammy, and Darsee would leave too. She did not relish the idea of having to endure Darsee’s and Hammy’s company, and she wished that Bungles, sitting beside Jena and looking as if he was going to burst into poetry, would propose soon so that Jena would no longer require chaperoning. Why was Darsee looking at her? Hadn’t he seen a girl with messy hair and no make-up before? She flushed and ran her fingers through her tangles.

Bungles declared Jena was craving Chinese food, and he proceeded to place a dinner order for everyone.

‘Jena,’ Bungles said when he hung up the phone, ‘do you want anything else? Shall I turn the TV on?’

Jena shrugged. Alys could tell she was being extra-cautious and acting all the more aloof. Good. Until she and Bungles were officially engaged, Jena’s reserve was smart.

Hammy took the remote control from Bungles and switched on the TV. The clinic’s film channel came on. ‘Ooh! Pretty Woman.’ She gazed at Darsee, who stood by the window, gazing at the moon. ‘Val, I love this film.’

‘Every woman does,’ Darsee said in a not-too-kind tone.

‘How presumptuous.’ Alys matched the snooty look Darsee gave her. ‘I don’t. It sets up unrealistic expectations.’

Alys was not a fan of updated Cinderella stories, Pretty Woman being a version in which a prostitute cleans up well and ends up earning herself a rich roti – a rich meal ticket – because she has a great figure and a heart of gold. Another version, readily available via Pakistani dramas, was a girl from the lower middle class who earns the respect and love of a rich roti because she’s virginal and, no matter how smart or accomplished she is, allows her husband to put her in her place. Mari approved of these silly dramas, for she believed they were excellent propaganda for teaching women their role in society. Lady and Mrs Binat were big fans too but more for the romance and fashion than the lessons espoused. Qitty watched them in order to people her caricatures.

‘Unrealistic expectations!’ Hammy frowned. ‘I’m surprised you don’t like rags-to-riches stories.’

‘I don’t like rags-to-riches love stories.’

‘Where did you learn to dismiss romance?’ Hammy scoffed. ‘Jeddah?’

‘Jeddah?’ Darsee said.

‘You don’t know,’ Hammy said. ‘The Binats lived in Saudi Arabia for a while, where they attended, I believe, the Pakistan Embassy School.’