Unmarriageable(50)

‘I would not,’ Alys said. ‘You didn’t see the way he cold-shouldered Wickaam at the border ceremony. For all Darsee’s assets, he’s still a jerk.’

‘I wish a jerk like that would fall in love with me.’ Sherry sighed. ‘You and Jena are so lucky. She’ll marry Bungles and you’ll marry Darsee. Your mother is right: all you need is one rich man to become besotted with your looks and, jantar mantar, abracadabra, your destiny is changed. Takes so much more for those of us without looks. So unfair.’

‘It is unfair. Especially when good-looking people complain how unfair it is that no one sees beyond their looks.’ Alys laughed dryly. ‘Inshallah, Jena will certainly marry Bungles. But there will be no such ending for me.’

‘I know why you are saying that,’ Sherry said. ‘It’s that Wickaam. You are besotted by his looks.’

‘I don’t get besotted by looks,’ Alys said. ‘You should know that much about me after ten years of friendship, Sherry.’

‘I know that you are human. But as your friend and well-wisher, let me advise you to put Wickaam aside and focus on grabbing Darsee.’

‘Will you please not use that disgusting word? You sound just like my mother.’

‘Grab it, grab it,’ Sherry joked, half seriously. ‘Grab Valentine Darsee because, trust me, he wants to be grabbed by you. Alys, listen to me: Wickaam seems nice, but Darsee has a lifestyle that only real money can buy.’

‘Money is not everything. And too many rich men have a tendency to be horrid because they think money stands in for character, decency, and smarts.’

‘Money is a safety net for everything that may not work out in life.’

‘Not if your husband is a control freak or a stingy hoarder.’

‘I really don’t think Darsee is either. You two even share a love of reading.’

‘I don’t want to share a love of anything with him, thank you,’ Alys said. ‘And luckily for both Wickaam and Darsee, I’m not a gold-digger. I refuse to seek a rich roti. I’m going to make my own money and live happily ever after on my own terms.’

‘Tch,’ Sherry said. ‘I can understand why your mother is always so irritated by you. You’re a teacher. In Dilipabad. And I know you don’t look it or care, but you are getting older by the day.’

‘Would singledom be acceptable if I were still twenty and owned my own thriving business?’

‘No.’

‘Thought so.’ Alys dropped Sunlight into the large cloth bag she was carrying instead of a delicate evening purse, much to her mother’s exasperation.

Dinner was announced and the two friends joined the surge of guests going towards the buffet in the garden. It was a feast of prawns, by far the most expensive delicacy in Pakistan at the moment. Tandoori prawn. Prawn skewer kebabs. Grilled prawns. Prawn pulao. Penne prawns. Deep-fried prawns. Prawn jalfrezi. Prawn korma. Sweet-and-sour prawns. Butterfly prawns. Prawn fried rice. Prawn-stuffed paratha. Prawn cutlets. Prawn salad.

‘Okay, Nadir Sheh, we get it!’ Alys said as she and Sherry joined the buffet line. ‘You can afford all the prawns in the ocean. And I’d thought the flowers ostentatious.’

‘I love prawns,’ Sherry said, taking heaping spoonfuls of each entrée. ‘I’ve only ever eaten them once, and even then we only got four each. This is why you marry rich: an endless array of prawns whenever you want and prepared however you want.’

‘I think it’s selfish!’ Alys spooned a small serving of prawn salad onto her plate. ‘What about the people who don’t like prawns? Or have allergies?’

‘How sad to be allergic to prawns,’ Sherry said, as she followed Alys to the seating area, where guests were having trouble setting their plates down among the floral table decor.

Kaleen came to their rescue and led them to a table he’d already cleared of flowers as best as he could.

‘Aha,’ Kaleen said, pointing to Sherry’s full plate and then to his own, ‘I see we have prawns in common.’

‘Yes,’ Sherry said, ‘we do.’

‘Dear sweet Alys,’ Kaleen said, ‘your plate is shamefully empty. Allow me to pick prawns for you in the hope that my choice will please your palate.’

‘Oh!’ Alys stood up abruptly. ‘Many thanks for your offer, Kaleen Sahib, but I see a friend I must talk to. Sherry here will be more than happy to keep you company.’ Alys smiled wickedly at Sherry. ‘Please do discuss all the prawns you have in common.’



Valentine Darsee, in the buffet line, choosing a single prawn from each entrée, watched Alys rise from a table and stride across the tent. How gracefully she walks in her sari, he thought, and balances her plate at the same time.

‘What are you thinking, babes?’ Hammy said, appearing by Darsee’s side as she and Sammy and Jaans cut the buffet line to stand with him. There were a few murmurs but, since everyone hopes to cut some line sometime in life, no one made much of a fuss.

‘Not thinking anything,’ Darsee said.

‘I love prawns,’ Hammy said, happily ladling penne prawns onto her plate.

‘I’m quite partial to prawns myself,’ Darsee said, ‘but what about the people who are allergic or don’t like them?’