“Please, ok. I am off, bye!” He passed her, jogging down the steps and to his car. Amaal huffed. Couldn’t she get some real rest at all today? Her eyes were drooping, her head was a mess. She needed to leave Samar’s thoughts behind. In the last three years, she hadn’t thought about him much. They had come to a neutral ground. And remained there. It wasn’t even awkward after one point to be colleagues. She had brushed her embarrassment under the carpet, too. She had developed a thicker skin being lashed and ground to dust in this profession. A lot had changed.
And yet… one look at that flip in his behaviour, and she was again regressing.
Amaal trudged to the outhouse, her feet dragging. That’s when she heard it. The telltale sound of the trolley over rough ground. She turned, and squinted at the path meandering from the main gate. A figure, a young woman, pulling her luggage along and looking like she was a deer caught in the headlights. Her head was turning from side to side, taking the estate in, her eyes dark but bright. She didn’t look much older than her.
She came closer, eyes still taking it all in.
“Hi. You are Iram?”
She slowed, her eyes widening. “Yes,” she panted, and set her bags down nervously. Amaal smiled. It was like looking at herself 4 years in the past.
“I am Amaal, Adil just informed me you were coming,” she found herself saying. “Come on in, I’ll show you around.”
Iram picked up her bags again and began following her, still nervous.
“This is the outhouse, a part of the main property but independent and fully functional,” Amaal said, talking to ease her nerves. “The leadership decided to open it for all the people who have migrated here to work at KDP and might be facing accommodation problems. Currently, it has 2 kitchenettes and 13 rooms, and houses around 30 people, give or take.”
Iram gasped.
“It was built in the old times,” Amaal shrugged. “The outhouse was meant to be the servants’ quarters. Though if servants were treated this well…” she chuckled, “I could well get used to housework.”
“Wait Amaal.”
That voice. Samar.
They stopped, as he materialised from behind them like the ghost that he was.
"There are no extra rooms here.”
Was he serious?Amaal looked from him to the girl. She was suddenly red-faced.
“But Samar, she has come with her luggage,” Amaal said pointedly, grinding her teeth together. Samar wouldn’t even look at her, his eyes on Iram.
“I apologise Ms. Iram,” he clipped. “But we have no room here. Who told you that we had?”
Amaal now felt embarrassed on this girl’s behalf. What was wrong with Samar? He was never an asshole to any member or employee.
“I did.” Atharva’s clipped words startled them all. Except Samar. He went on as if he had been waiting to debate this.
“There are twelve habitable rooms in here and all occupied, even the hall is shared by the logistics guys. The last room is used by overnighters to crash. That’s just how it is, Atharva.”
Amaal eyed the two men, standing opposite each other, eyes not wavering from each other’s. It was like a battle. What was happening?
“Uhh… It’s ok.” Iram broke the tense air. “I have a place back in town. I’ll head back.”
“No.” Atharva announced. “If that is the case, you will take a room in the main house.”
Amaal’s eyes widened. Was this for real? Atharva? Opening his space? For a woman? She looked at Iram again. Was there something going on here? Did she have to start preparing for a possible love story packet if their Chief Minister candidate got involved with somebody? Her mind worked in overdrive because that was her job. She was already considering the possibility of Iram being here to honeytrap the President and derail the campaign as a possibility when Atharva said to Iram, “The first floor is mine, you will have to take the attic. It’s not as big as the rooms in here, but it is neat and well-heated.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Amaal stood shellshocked as Iram turned and walked behind him, pulling her bags along.
She glanced to her side. Samar was standing there, just like her — struck. Amaal studied his face. He looked like he was ready to commit genocide.
“Is it about her?”
His head whipped to her. And the wide, enraged eyes made her recoil yet again.
