‘Of course I did!’
‘You played the entire charade to keep Brahmi away from me, didn’t you? Am I correct?’
I slammed the phone down. Blood rushed to my face. I closed my eyes, forced them shut, willed time to turn back. Having failed, I picked up the phone again. He hadn’t cut the call.
‘Hi again,’ he said. ‘I am not going to tell any of this to Brahmi.’
‘What do want in return?’
‘Nothing really,’ he said and laughed.
‘If you want I will never talk to Brahmi again.’
‘I don’t like Brahmi. I just want to be friends with you two. And if you want to know a secret of mine then I’ll tell you that I did orchestrate the chits in her desk to be friends with her. But you already know that, don’t you?’
‘Why would you want to be friends with us?’
‘Why wouldn’t I? I like both of you. Who else comes to school during holidays and finds joy in boring things? Now that’s admirable, isn’t it?’
‘Umm.’
‘But I don’t know how you will get Brahmi to talk to us again. She seemed pretty angry,’ he said. ‘Anyway, come to school next week, okay? I will see you then. And loosen up, I won’t tell her. I am a man of my word. You can trust me.’
Click.
‘Raghu?’ I turned to see Maa. There was that look on her face. When she digs a secret out and gives the secret-keeper a chance to confess.
She asked, ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Maa, what are you talking about?’
This was it. I thought I would have to tell her about Brahmi, about Sahil, about everything.
Maa sat near me, took my hand into hers, rubbed it gently, stared at me, and said, ‘You’re my shona baba, the apple of my eyes, and I know you will never lie to me. So tell me, is there something you’re hiding?’
‘Umm . . . n . . . no . . . Maa. Why would I hide anything?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Maa.’
‘Remember the first day of school?’
‘Yes, Maa.’
‘You were dragged away from me and put in a room with other children. Your teacher told me you kept asking every other kid in the class where I was, whether I had abandoned you. For Baba it was embarrassing but I found joy in you clinging to me, loving me unconditionally. But you have grown up now. You don’t love me like you used to. You don’t need me like you used to. Remember how you used to beat your fists at the door when I used to leave you with your brother?Where are you, mumma, where are you, mumma?You would cry for hours. Your Dada never did that. You always loved me more.’
‘I remember all that.’
‘So your Dada hasn’t told you anything?’
‘Dada?’
‘He looks so tense these days. I don’t know if it’s work or something else. He hasn’t been eating and has lost so much weight. You will tell me if something is bothering him, right?’
‘Of course, Maa.’
And then out of nowhere she asked me, ‘Does your Dada have a girlfriend? Like, does he love someone?’
