Page 4 of Never Too Late
‘You and your husband do not socialise much?’
‘Ex-husband,’ Sasha filled in, a little too meaningfully, as she returned to the table.
‘Ah. I am sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ I said truthfully. ‘It’s the best for everyone.’
‘Dad’s already got a new girlfriend.’
‘Sasha. I’m sure Ashok isn’t interested in any of that.’
I threw him an apologetic look and was saved by the appearance of the champagne.
‘May I?’ Ashok asked.
‘Please.’
Having expertly filled our own glasses, he lifted his own for a toast.
‘To Katherine, new adventures and new friends.’
I liked the sound of that. Admittedly, it also terrified me, but somewhere during the second bottle of champagne, I began to feel less inclined to worry about it all.
4
While Ashok ate his dinner, a paneer curry with rice that I made a mental note to order tomorrow, we ordered pudding. Sash requested the dark-chocolate bombe that melted under a cascade of hot caramel sauce the waiter poured with a theatrical hand and, for me, a yoghurt-based dessert called Shrikhand I’d discovered a taste for in the last couple of days. After that, we slid down from our chairs, Ashok gallantly assisting us both until we stepped back onto dry land, wiped our feet and put on our shoes.
‘I’m going to order cocktails. You’ll stay, won’t you, Ashok?’ Sasha asked, her hand on his arm.
‘If you wish.’
‘We do wish, don’t we, Mum?’
Without waiting for an answer, she took off on her search for yet more alcohol, which wasn’t a decision I was fully behind but with the whirlwind that was my daughter in charge, I did what I’d been doing ever since she’d planned the holiday – held on and hoped for the best. The world was already a little soft around the edges. It was a long time since I’d felt like that and it was really rather pleasant in the warmth of the still, Indian night. Pinpricks of stars shone in the sooty, velvet sky above and the tall, thin acacia trees in the landscaped garden stood elegantly at rest around us, their forms highlighted by strategically placed lights.
Ashok took a moment to roll down his trousers – impeccably cut, I’d noticed – which he’d managed to keep entirely dry. I, on the other hand, in my efforts to make sure that I didn’t flash Ashok, or anyone else, too much thigh, had still managed to find a way to dip part of my hem in the water and was surreptitiously trying to wring it out without looking as unsophisticated as I felt.
‘It’s a wonderful idea, I think, the water dining, but it’s not always the easiest to navigate, is it?’
Clearly, my actions weren’t quite as surreptitious as I’d hoped.
‘You seemed to have managed well,’ I said, indicating his trousers.
‘Practice.’
‘You’ve been here before then?’
‘Yes, quite a few times.’
‘Are you here on holiday or for work?’
‘Work.’
‘It’s really a beautiful hotel. Sash booked everything for our trip. She’s very good at all that sort of thing.’
‘She certainly has good taste.’
‘I like to think so, but then I’m probably biased.’
