Unmarriageable(69)
Jena professed to be over Bungles. As proof, she planned to drop in to see Hammy and Sammy. No, she was not going to listen to Alys and stay far away from them. Bungles had been nothing more than a passing infatuation, pushed to extremes by their mother’s pressure. Jena knew that now. She was merely going to visit Hammy and Sammy as she would any acquaintances of hers who lived in Lahore.
Jena dropped in one afternoon. Hammy and Sammy were at home. They were hosting a luncheon, and the maid, thinking Jena was one of the guests, led her into the drawing room where socialites were lining up to pose for a photograph. (The photo later appeared in Social Lights; Lady told Jena she’d seen it.) There’d been a hush when Jena entered the drawing room. Fazool said, ‘Ham, Sam, isn’t that the damsel Bungs—’
Hammy and Sammy cut off Fazool. They hurried to Jena and hugged her and said what a nice surprise to see her and too bad it was not a good time but that they’d visit her in the next few days; they needed to see someone in Jamshed Colony anyway. She’d not asked about him. She’d not even looked for him at their house. The fact was, Hammy and Sammy had been very nice to her.
They were not very nice to you, Alys thought. They could have invited Jena to stay for lunch, a not-unusual courtesy in their part of the world; instead, she’d been sent off.
Three days later, Nona called Alys: ‘Jena needs to leave the house and stop waiting for them to visit. Who knows if they’ll ever come?’
They came on the seventh day. Jena called home as soon as they left. For the first time, anger edged out her hurt.
‘You were right, Alys,’ she said in a steely voice. ‘They are superficial and shallow and they never liked me. The person they were coming to see who lives in this part of town is their dhobi. They are attending a charity ball and need their gowns laundered according to specific instructions, which they didn’t trust the driver to convey to the dhobi. I was the stop after the dhobi. They stayed for eight minutes and forty seconds and looked as if they expected spiders to descend on them the whole time. Basically they came to tell me that their brother knows I’m in town but he’s busy with Jujeena Darsee and doesn’t have a moment to spare on frivolities. I am a frivolity. They said they hoped I enjoy my visit to Lahore, and then they left. Good riddance to them. Hammy, Sammy, their brother – I will not let them spoil my mood for a single second more. You are right, Alys, I am too quick to believe people are nice. I am cured. I assure you.’
The two months passed by. Alys set exams for her classes. She marked exams. She attended the staff meetings to discuss student promotions to the next academic year. She sat through end-of-term class parties, where students – who always discovered newfound love for teachers at the end of the school year – gave her gifts and handmade cards. Tahira hugged Alys and thanked her for the B-minus on her final exam. Rose-Nama thanked Alys for her A grade too. Alys nodded, for she was not one of those teachers who settled scores through grades. Unfortunately, though, after the summer break, Alys would see Rose-Nama in her Year 11 literature class, while Tahira was leaving to getting married. Best wishes for the future! Alys wrote on Tahira’s uniform as students scampered about, getting their uniforms signed for posterity. Finally, the last bell for home time rang and everyone, including Alys and her sisters, headed to the gates, where they boarded the school van for the summer holidays.
Alys was leaving the next day for Islamabad. Sherry’s family had rented a minivan so that they could travel in comfort. On the way to Islamabad, they were going to stop over in Lahore for a night, a prospect that had cemented Alys’s decision to go, for she would get to see Jena and Nona.
‘Don’t forget your old father despite your change of scenery,’ Mr Binat said as he hugged Alys goodbye. Mrs Binat, Mari, Qitty, and Lady waved glumly, because they wouldn’t have minded a trip to Islamabad and a change of scenery too.
The journey to Lahore took a quick two hours. The Loocluses passed the time with singing competitions, eating the home-made lunch of aloo paratha and cheeni roti, and marvelling at how wonderful it was that Sherry ne itna bada haath maara – that Sherry had managed to marry so well. The Loocluses were looking forward to eating in good restaurants and sightseeing in style, for Sherry had assured them that they did not have to worry about the expense. She was going to foot all the bills, thanks to the generosity of her husband.
In Lahore, the Loocluses dropped Alys at her uncle’s house for the night. Jena, Nona, and Nisar were eagerly waiting for Alys, and they insisted the Loocluses at least have chai before heading off to spend the night with their own relatives. Since it was the polite thing to do, and also because who would refuse Nona’s naan khatai cookies, the Loocluses obliged.
During tea, Bobia Looclus whispered to Alys that Jena looked much happier, mashallah. Alys was grateful she’d said so, for she’d thought it herself. Later, Nona said that on occasion a cloud would yet pass over Jena but that she was determined not to wallow in it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The remainder of the journey to Islamabad was just as merry as the trip the day before, if not merrier for Alys, since Jena was on the mend. Hours later, they drove off the motorway and into the pristine capital city with its wide leafy roads, and eventually the minivan turned off the main road and entered a nice upper-middle-class neighbourhood. Everyone in the van held their breath in anticipation of seeing Sherry’s marital home. It was just as Sherry had described: a large two-storey house with a decent driveway set in the midst of a pretty lawn. Farhat Kaleen and Sherry stood on the stoop of their home, waiting to greet them, Sherry with open arms, and Kaleen with a satisfied face that seemed plumper, no doubt courtesy of Sherry’s cooking.