Unmarriageable(96)

Jena was grateful for Naheed’s support and Alys was too, but she told Jena she would not be surprised if Naheed was frantically searching for teachers to replace them in case Lady returned home in disgrace, unwed and pregnant, even. Perhaps the Dilipabad Gymkhana would break its die-hard rule of ‘once a member, always a member’ in order to expel the Binats. Such were the questions that, Alys was positive, entertained all Dilipabad.



Nona called daily for the next few days with an update to say there was no update. And then: they were found. They were staying at a cheap hotel in a cheap part of town. They were fine. Lady was glowing. Wickaam looked bemused. He had no answer for why they were not yet married, which, come to think of it, was his answer. And, brace yourself, Lady did not care that they were still unmarried. She said they’d be married soon enough and were having too much fun to break the ‘honeymoon’.

Nona was sorry to report it, but Lady seemed incapable of seeing she’d done something wrong and that her decision was going to negatively impact her family. Nisar had prevailed upon Wickaam to tell him whether or not he meant to do the honourable thing, and Wickaam voiced his demand: one hundred thousand dollars.

It was an exorbitant sum. Nisar and Nona had some savings, as did Falak for sending Babur abroad. But even after they pooled their resources, their savings amounted to a pittance, for what was a grain of sugar to one who demands a cup?

Alys paced in front of her father in his study.

‘We must give them the Lahore shop,’ Mr Binat said. ‘The rent is always steady.’

‘That rent is the bulk of our livelihood,’ Alys said in horror.

‘And it still won’t be enough for that greedy fellow,’ Mr Binat said. ‘We must sell the car, this house. What else have we got?’

‘Where will we live?’ Alys asked. ‘How will we make ends meet?’

Mr Binat wrung his hands. ‘What a failure of a father I am.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Alys said.

‘An utter failure of a parent. My one job was to provide financial security to you girls and your mother, and I could not even do that. I should invest in a cart and sell the flowers and vegetables I grow. But wait – with house gone, flowers and vegetables gone too.’

‘So we are to lose everything,’ Alys said, ‘to buy Lady her respectability, and thereby ours, whatever little respectability it will be.’

A bleak evening it was at Binat House, with everyone mourning their lot and looking into the future with trepidation. Only Hillima reminded them that, ten years ago, they’d landed in this house with hardly a penny to their names and, look, they’d survived.

‘We had this house,’ Mrs Binat wept. ‘We had a roof over our heads.’

‘And now,’ Hillima said, ‘we have educated girls who can earn.’

‘This is true,’ Jena said. ‘We will never starve.’

‘We may never starve,’ said Mrs Binat, hopeless at the thought of having to start over yet again, ‘but even on a full stomach one can lose the will to live. We will be forever hungry for better things.’

‘And dignity,’ Mari added. ‘And dignity.’

And then, a reprieve. Nona called late that night. Such news could not wait for the morning. Must not wait when it would bring so much respite to all. Wickaam had agreed to marry Lady. No one was quite sure what had happened to change his mind. Perhaps Lady had wept and cried and begged. Perhaps Wickaam had decided he loved her after all. Perhaps – but who cared? They were to be married in the morning, as soon as four male witnesses were rounded up to take to the mosque. Nisar and three more men were needed; even strangers who were willing to sign their names to the marriage certificate would do.

And that was what was done, and Nona called to say: ‘They are married.’

‘Joy’ would be too strong a feeling for what followed at Binat House. ‘Relief’ was more appropriate. Only Mrs Binat revelled as she put away the thermometer and blood-pressure cuff and began to plan a proper wedding for her favourite daughter, who was now married: Mrs Lady Wickaam! Oof their children would be beautiful. Angels!

Mr Binat put his hands over his heart and Alys, Jena, Qitty, and Mari panicked, but he told his daughters that he was perfectly fine. He couldn’t be finer. At no financial cost to him, respectability and dignity had been restored.

‘Wickaam must truly love her,’ Jena said.

‘Don’t be so gullible all the time, Jena,’ Mr Binat said. ‘You think a greedy fellow like Wickaam will settle for a girl who loves him? I fear Nona has given him a huge share in her business and Nisar may have taken on debt. I dare not ask, because I can never repay them a hundred thousand dollars. All I know is that I am forever indebted.’

‘He is my brother,’ Mrs Binat said proudly, ‘and this is how a loving brother comes to the rescue.’

‘Nisar and Nona have gone above and beyond loving,’ Mr Binat said.

‘Barkat,’ Mrs Binat chirped, ‘at the very least we must throw the Wickaams a mehndi ceremony and a reception at the first available date open at the gymkhana. Hai, what will Lady wear? What will you girls wear? Hai, how exciting to have a daughter married! Finally! Finally!’

But Mr Binat crushed Mrs Binat’s plans when he roared that, let alone throwing a mehndi or a reception, he was forbidding Lady and that ganda aadmi dirty man from setting foot anywhere near their home. If they dared show their faces in Dilipabad, he would shoot them.