Page 18 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
Alice, curious and worried, continues to look at the man. He revs up the engine almost instantly, and with one last look of longing at Timira, drives off. Alice turns her neck to catch the number plate, but the car is nowhere to be seen. It has driven off and away from them.
‘Babe, did you see the car? What a beauty! And, a beast!’ Bhaskar exclaims almost as soon as he reaches them. But Alice doesn’t answer.
Who was that guy?
Could it have been Sky?
Chapter Five
Bali, Indonesia
‘You know what they say about destiny … the cosmos conspires, whether you wish for it or not.’
Announcing out loud to nobody in particular, Timira flips aside the laws of attraction book she had carelessly picked out of the little corner library of the cafe she, Alice and Bhaskar were spending the afternoon at.It’s a beach shack only a stone’s throw from their hotel. They had sauntered in upon listening to the strains of EDM remixes of Hindi film songs as they walked along the beach, Alice and Timira collecting seashells and Bhaskar wondering what the girls intended to do with two kilos of shells.
Alice had refused to dwell on the curious case of the mysterious hunk at the hospital. She is a woman on a mission to make the last couple of days of their vacation memorable for Timira.
‘Tim, do you have a plan for when we get back?’ Alice asks gently between sips of her Malibu Summer Sunset. ‘Recall what I’d told you about Sunaina’s cousin, that guy on that OTT series who got an Emmy nom? He’s looking for a rep. Have you givenit any thought? This could be a good time to start out on your own,’ Alice’s voice trails off, her well-meaning words drowning in the sound of Timira’s noisy slurps. She shakes her head exasperatedly and is about to grab Timira’s shoulder to gain her attention, but holds back when she hears her humming under her breath, stirring the contents of her Bloody Mary with a straw that is boldly standing up and fighting on despite having been mercilessly gnawed on for a while.
Timira doesn’t sing often anymore. Nowhere near as often as she used to. Blessed with rather melodious pipes, Timira used to be the undisputed karaoke queen and designated crooner at parties when Bhaskar first introduced Alice to her. Alice wonders why Timira doesn’t sing much any longer and her mind wanders off …
Timira is now on her fourth cocktail. As it turns out, the owner of the shack is married to an Indian, and seems eager to treat his Indian guests well. He has been rather generous with the alcohol in the cocktails. Her vision is slightly blurry, her reflexes even slower than usual. Bhaskar throws a book at her and it misses the bandaged side of her head by only a whisker.
‘Shit! Sorry! Did that hurt?’ Bhaskar is worried. Timira, sensing an opportunity, pretends to be in pain. Rubbing the bandage lightly, she mock yelps in pain before jumping out of her wicker chair to exact revenge. She uses all her might to grab a chunk of Bhaskar’s hair with one hand while threatening to pour her drink over his head with the other.
‘Alice! Help! What sort of a wife are you, man? Sitting there, laughing? Dude!’
Alice sticks her tongue out in response and goads Timira on. Bhaskar is about to plead for mercy when his phone rings.
‘Bro, let me answer the call!’ It’s on the fourth ring now. Timira has to relent by the seventh after Bhaskar buys hisfreedom by promising to get her ginseng and snail cream endorsed by Song Hyekyo from the duty-free shops.
The sun is readying itself to retire for the night. The fragrance of salt and sand hangs in the damp air. Timira is trying to recall the number of drinks she’s had but gives up after a while and decides to call for another regardless.
‘Tim,’ Alice is the first to break the silence. Timira is fumbling with her new Zippo lighter and trying to light a cigarette with no success. ‘Tim, are you listening?’ ‘Yes,’ Timira answers absent-mindedly. Alice snatches the lighter from Timira’s hand and lights the cigarette. Timira blows her a kiss as thanks before taking a long drag and putting her feet up on the table in front of her.
‘Timira, I’ve been thinking …’ Alice blurts out, unable to hold it in any longer.
‘About what to order next?’ Timira laughs louder than her joke warrants and gestures to a hostess to bring them the menu.
‘I’m serious, why aren’t you listening to me? Don’t try to dodge ‘cause I ain’t going nowhere! He may not express it like I do, but Bhaskar is also worried. What do you even intend to do when we go back?’
This is a question Timira has been asking herself since the day she quit her job.
Should I go back to Marbella? They have been asking … no, no, begging me to come back. But how can I? Where’s my pride? Alice is right. I have enough experience to branch out on my own. I owe it to myself to run my own business … But what if Ma–Apa try to interfere? I don’t want their money. Oh, God, it’d be so embarrassing if at thirty-six, well, almost thirty-seven, they still have to sponsor me! They probably think I’m looking for work or have offers already. Should I tell them about my offer here?
Timira recalls how the affable, elderly owner of the sea-front establishment the wedding was held at had offered her a job as a crooner after listening to her sing at the reception party. The memory puts a smile on her face and she feels a little less troubled by her life’s miseries.
Timira’s thoughts have been raising hell inside her overworked brain, like multiple incarnations of the Devil himself wielding miniature pitchforks and an evil smile. She opens her mouth to say something when Bhaskar, who had stepped out to take the call, waves at her and asks her to bring him a cigarette. She turns around to leave after handing him his pack of what he calls ‘real cigarettes’, unlike the ‘denial cigarettes’ that she smokes and lighter, but Bhaskar suddenly stops her, the unlit smoke dangling from between his lips. He grabs her by her sleeve and yanks her back towards him, gesturing for her to hold still while continuing to speak on the phone.
‘… yeah, I know what you mean. It can’t be easy, certainly not at their age …’
Timira has no idea why she is being made to listen to this. She steps on Bhaskar’s foot and tries to wriggle out of his grasp. He tightens his grip.
‘Let me know if I can be of any help, bro … Of course … what else are friends for? By the way, what was that you mentioned a little while back? Something about a client company looking for a specialist?’
Silence at Bhaskar’s end for a minute or so, barring the occasional ‘hmm’. Timira is still uninterested and drawing patterns in the sand with her big toes.
‘Ah, I see. No, it’s just that … remember Timira? My school friend you met at my wedding … yes, yes, same,’ Bhaskar laughs. Timira is suddenly invested in the conversation and leans in, trying to catch the other end of the chat.
