Page 69 of Six Days in Bombay

“That’s what her friend Petra said.”

Recognition flared in her eyes. “The friend from Prague. Whom she grew up with. I believe she sat forTwo Women.”

“She did. She couldn’t believe Miss Novak changed her mind about children. Neither could her other old friends in Prague.”

Josephine shrugged. “I find it hard to believe too.”

“Would you have any idea—any idea at all—why she would have changed her mind? Do you know if a pregnancy would have put her in danger?”

Her forehead puckered. “Isn’t that a question for her doctors?”

“Yes, but I thought you might know something—anything—that might help.”

She looked at her shoes, shiny black leather with a block heel. “What does her husband say? Someone told me she’d married a friend from Prague.” She looked at her watch. “If there’s nothing else…”

“There is. Mira wanted me to give you this.” I pulled therolled upThe Pledgesfrom under my arm and handed it to her along with the suit jacket she’d loaned me the day before.

She studied the painting thoughtfully. If she was surprised to see it, she didn’t let on. Maybe that deadpan expression was her trump card when she was negotiating, as she’d been doing with Louis Le Grand at theMarché.

“It’s hard to turn away from it, isn’t it? The colors of India, of warm earth and sun. This is exactly what I wanted her to paint. It’s quite good.” She asked, “Did she want me to sell it for her?”

“All I know is that she wanted you to have it. What you do with it is up to you.” I turned the canvas over. “See your initial on the back?” I pulled Mira’s note from my skirt pocket and showed it to her.

With a frown, Jo looked at the painting again. “She wanted me to have this one in particular?” Her eyes focused on the central figure, the sage with the double tikka. After a few minutes, she smiled. With wonder, Josephine said, “Our Mira finally understood. I told her once that my role was threefold: teacher, protector, promoter. I am the teacher here, aren’t I?”

“Perhaps the painting was her way of acknowledging that,” I said. “And as an apology for what she did all those years ago.”

The art dealer looked at me askance. “Perhaps.”

I left Josephine there, on the bridge, searching for clues in Mira’s gift.

I wandered around the Expo for an hour before returning to Madame Renaud’s. She came to meet me in the hallway, pulling on her gloves. She adjusted her hat in the wall mirror. There was an excitement about her, as if she were in possession of a secret and was dying to tell someone.

“There’s a gentleman waiting for you in the café downstairs. Handsome. Lovely manners. Quite charming.”

“For me? A gentleman?” I knew no one in Paris aside from the ambassador’s wife, Madame Renaud and Josephine.

She inserted a pearl pin through the hat and dabbed her lipswhere she’d applied a light pink lipstick. “I must go to my friend Solange’s for dinner. I’m assuming you’ll be alright on your own.” Her eyes were full of mirth. “Or not on your own.”

I was puzzled by her comment. She patted me on the arm and opened the door. “Oh, I hope you’ll invite him upstairs for… Well, I’ll be home late…much later.” She gave me a knowing smile and shut the door. I heard her heels echo on the stairs.

I was hot and a little tired from walking around the Expo. I washed my face and drank some water before going downstairs to the café on the ground floor. Outside, there was only one customer sitting at a café table.

It was Amit Mishra.

He rose from the chair when he saw me. He took a few steps toward me, then stopped. I stood still, not sure what to do. We seemed to be frozen in place, an invisible wall keeping us apart. And then…a voice, Mira’s voice, whispered,Sona, your life will be as big as you allow it to be. I rubbed my sternum where her fingers had once drawn a circle.I want big things for you, Sona, she’d said.You do too. It’s all in here and out there. Go find it.

I ran to him.

I put my arms around his neck, not caring who was watching or what they thought. I was in Paris, not Bombay. Here, I could do what I wanted, be what I wanted. And this was what I wanted. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. He released me long enough to place his lips on mine, not the fleeting kiss I’d given him the night of the Singh party, but a proper kiss. One that made the ache between my legs unbearable. I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the entrance of Madame Renaud’s building. Before we went inside, I pulled him back, cradled his face in my hands and kissed him again. I wanted his very breath to become mine. All the way up the stairwell, we stopped to caress and hug and press our mouths together. Only now did I understand why Madame Renaud had left in such a hurry. She wanted to give us the luxury of time. Once inside the apartment,I shrugged Amit’s jacket off. He unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked my bra. He gathered my breast in one hand and sucked hard on my nipple. I groaned with pleasure, loudly. I unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his pants, caressed his erection. The litter of clothes grew as we made our way to the bedroom. When we were skin to delicious skin, I clasped my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his torso. He licked his fingers and teased me where I was wet. When I begged him to enter me, the first thrust was painful, but the one after that and the one after that was glorious. Oh, how delicious it felt—as if he and I had been doing this with each other all our lives. He lowered me, still clinging to him, onto the bed. When our coupling left us breathing so hard I felt my lungs would rupture, it was much, much better than anything I’d imagined.

Mira had told me that life was for the taking. All I had to do was claim it.

I had.

“Surely, you didn’t just follow me here to Paris?” I asked when my breathing returned to normal.

Amit pushed himself up on one elbow to look at me properly. He traced the underside of my breast and circled my nipple. I closed my eyes. “I was in Shimla longer than I expected. When my aunt recovered, I hurried back to Bombay and found you’d gone. But there was a letter from Dr. Stoddard telling me you’d taken him up on his offer, which, given what the board decided, made me glad. He wrote that Mira had sent you on a mission to Europe—and you’d probably be in Paris right about now.” He laid a warm hand on my arm. “I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry, Sona.”

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