Page 36 of The Henna Artist

My reputation relied on Parvati Singh’s word. Without her approval, I would get no work for henna,mandaladesigns or marriage commissions; my income would come only from the contraceptive sachets I provided Samir—and even those had been jeopardized now.

My insides were in knots. I had to get out of here—now.

Radha and Malik were waiting for me on the front veranda. Malik looked troubled, Radha nervous. I rushed past them, gulping the cool night air, skipping down the front steps to the garden gates.

“Jiji,” Radha said behind me, running to keep up. “I did nothing. Malik and I were coming out of the kitchen when Ravi started talking to me. Ask Malik. He’ll tell you.”

I stopped so abruptly that Malik, who was behind me, tripped on my sari. “Is it true?”

He nodded. “Ravi Sahib saw us when went to the kitchen to put down our dinner plates. He asked if we enjoyed ourselves. We said his performance was first rate. Then Radha—” Malik stopped.

“I told him Othello was a general, not a king, and he’d do better to get rid of the crown.”

“Radha!”

Her peacock eyes were defiant. “Well, it’s the truth. In any case, he didn’t seem to mind. He laughed.”

“He did laugh, Auntie-Boss. He told her he would do anything as long as she would be his—what was it?”

“Desdemona.”

“Then he—” Malik looked uncertainly at Radha.

“Go on.”

“He touched her.” Malik pointed at Radha’s arm.

“And my face,” Radha added.

So, not an accident, then—worse than I imagined. How could I be sure she hadn’t encouraged Ravi with a look or a smile? But then, I’d never seen Radha flirt with anyone. She and Malik teased each other, but as a sister and brother would.

A headache knocked at my temples. “We’ll talk later.”

Radha’s brows rose, as if she couldn’t believe I was taking it so well. She shot a look at Malik.

Frankly, I didn’t know what to do. I’d never known Malik to lie, but would he lie for Radha? If he and Radha were telling me the truth, my sister was innocent. And if she was innocent, how could Parvati have jumped to such a ridiculous conclusion? It was laughable.

On the other hand, there were so many things Radha clearly didn’t know. Like how to keep boys like Ravi—confident, worldly, a little arrogant—at a distance. All she had to do was to drop her gaze, clamp her mouth shut and walk away.

When we stopped to let Malik off at Jhori Bazaar, I told him to meet me early the next morning for our appointment at the palace. The news that would have had him spinning like a top a few weeks ago now only elicited a tip of the head. He squeezed Radha’s hand before heading off.

The rest of the way home, Radha hugged her stomach with both hands, suppressing her moans. When we arrived at Mrs. Iyengar’s, I filled a pan halfway with milk and took it down to the outdoor hearth, puzzling over tonight’s events. After the milk boiled, I returned upstairs to find Radha sitting on the cot, doubled over. I stirred turmeric into the warm milk and added a little sugar.

Radha, her arms wrapped around her belly, rocked back and forth. “Jiji, please say something. Anything. I did nothing bad. I don’t want to be the Bad Luck Girl anymore.” She hiccupped. “I can’t help it if he talked to me, or touched my face. I swear on the holy waters of the Ganga it wasn’t my fault.”

“Shh,” I said, handing her the glass. “You’ve had too much rich food tonight. This will settle your stomach.” She sipped the milk, cupping her belly with her free arm.

Delicately, so as not to jostle the glass of milk in her hand, I sat down next to her.

“I’ve never had a client speak to me the way Parvati Singh spoke to me tonight. If Parvati removes her support, I stand to lose everything—westand to lose everything. Do you understand what I’m saying? She’s the one all the ladies follow. If I lose Parvati, we can say goodbye to the roof over our heads, theattain our bellies, the fine cotton sari you wore tonight.”

I lifted the empty glass out of Radha’s hand, and set it on the floor. I took her hands in mine. “I shouldn’t have accepted Samir’s offer to stay and watch the show tonight. We didn’t belong there. We should have done our job and left.”

Her face fell. “You’re not listening! Jiji,hegrabbed my arm!Hestarted talking tome!”

I continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. I rubbed her back, moving my hand in tiny circles. “You had no one to teach you things that a girl your age should be taught. By the time you were old enough, Pitaji was not really there, was he? And Maa was too upset about me to pay attention to you. You were on your own. And that wasn’t good. You’re my sister, Radha, but I don’t know you that well—”

“Ask me anything! I’ll tell you.Anything!You’ve never asked me the month I was born. October. What’s my favorite food?Gajar ka halwa.I love saris that have mirrors sewn into them. And I lovekajalon babies. My favorite color is the green of mango leaves. And I like the taste of guavas just before they’re ripe, when the flesh is tart enough to make my mouth water.”

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