[sakurasan]

Chapter 17 Joint Account — Part 1

Nirmala stood outside the door. She lived two doors down. She knew whose cylinder came late, whose husband worked nights, and whose daughter had failed a paper and did not want it known. She had been in and out of this flat enough times since Isha moved in that they no longer stood on formality. She had seen Isha’s engagement photos, and she knew Rohan’s face from them as well as she knew anyone’s.

The doorbell rang again.

Isha came back to the door, looked at her own room, and put her hand on the knob. Nirmala was not going to leave.

Isha opened the door.

“Hi, aunty.”

“What took you so long to open the door, beti.”

“I was tired. So only. Come. Sit.”

Nirmala took a step in. Isha looked down. She had not had time to put the bikini crotch back. The nightgown had drawn in, and a camel toe showed. If Nirmala looked down, she would see it.

She moved aside and sat on the sofa with her knees together. Nirmala sat beside her.

“Beti. Why did you not say you were here. I thought you left before Sneha.”

“College work, aunty. Very busy. I was rarely home.”

“Don’t lie. Your fiancé is keeping you busy. Right.”

Isha looked at the floor. She blushed.

“Don’t feel shy. I know this generation. Is he home.”

“No. You know Sneha’s rule. We meet only outside.”

“That is a good rule. Before the wedding day you should not be alone with him in an empty house.”

“My Rohan is not like that. He has never come here either.”

She had just said it. Rohan was not in the flat. Kunal was, and he had no clothes on. If Nirmala opened that room, the building would have the story before evening. She wanted Nirmala gone before that door opened.

Nirmala saw the lock hanging on Riya’s door.

“That room has been locked for two months.”

“Yes. She took the keys. You want anything in there.”

“No. I spoke with Sneha a few minutes back. She has my herbal oil.”

Isha understood. Sneha had told Nirmala she was still in the flat.

“I can fetch it for you.”

“You look tired. You sit.”

Nirmala went into Sneha’s room. Isha stayed on the sofa. Her eyes stayed on her own door, and the pressure in her chest kept rising.

Nirmala looked around Sneha’s room. No one else had been in it. She went into the bathroom and came out with the oil.

“You found it, aunty.”

Isha breathed out. Nirmala would go home now.

“Yes.”

Instead Nirmala came back to the sofa and sat. The PS5 was under the television, the controllers on the floor.

“This is new. Since when.”

“I was bored,” Isha said.

“Your man gave it to you. Right.”

“Yes. It is his. I borrowed for the vacation.” Sweat came on her lip. She heard her own voice going too fast.

“Funny. When I was your age, my son would have been playing these that time.”

“Times change, aunty. Not everyone grows up fast.”

Nirmala’s eyes stayed on her mouth. She looked at the sweat. “You are not well.”

“Fever.”

“Fever. I will make you a patch.”

Nirmala stood and went to the kitchen. Isha feared Nirmala would detour to her room, and followed to prevent it.

Nirmala set a pan on the flame, took a jar from the shelf, and spread a paste on a square of cloth. She folded the cloth and pressed it once with the back of a spoon.

“Your bed. I will put this on you.”

Isha’s heart raced. “I will lie on the sofa.”

“You need to rest properly. Come.”

Nirmala took her hand and pulled her to her room. She turned the knob. If it had been locked from inside, Nirmala would have known someone was in the room. If it opened, Nirmala would walk in on him. Isha was almost caught either way. She was ashamed, and she felt she might faint. Nirmala’s hand was still on hers, taking her to bed for a fever that was a lie.

The door opened. The room looked empty. The sheet was pulled half off the bed. The bathroom door was shut. She felt she had survived the minute.

“Lie down,” Nirmala said.

Isha lay on the bed and drew the sheet to her chest. Nirmala set the patch on the bedside and walked to the bathroom. Her relief was short-lived.

Isha’s hands locked on the sheet. She saw the next minute as if it had already happened. Nirmala would open that door. Kunal would be there with nothing on. Nirmala would make a sound the whole floor would hear.

The bathroom door opened. Nirmala went in. A tap ran. She came out drying her hands on her saree.

“Only towels. Good. Your head is what I want.”

She laid the warm cloth across Isha’s forehead and held it there with two fingers.



“Take care. I will bring lunch.”

“No need, aunty. I can manage.”

“I do not take no for an answer.”

“Just the afternoon. Night I can manage.”

“Ok. Rest. I will lock the door on the way out. I am hearing our stair door too many times these weeks.”

Nirmala took her oil and her bag and left. She locked the door on her way out. Isha lay on the bed. Her legs were weak. The patch slid on her forehead.

Kunal came out of Sneha’s room with nothing on. His cock hung. He looked pleased with himself.

“I know these spies. You took her to the kitchen, and I moved to Sneha’s room.”

“One more minute and this building would know.” Isha’s voice shook. “My heart almost came out.”

“Shall we resume where we left off.”

“I will bite Tyson off. Get dressed. I am done for the day.”

He looked at her face and did not argue. He picked his clothes out of the wash basket and went into her room to dress.

At lunch Nirmala knocked. Isha opened the door only wide enough for the tiffin. She kept her body in the gap.

“You look better now.”

“Yes. Your patch worked.”

“I know.”

“I can manage, aunty. I will bring the boxes by evening.”

“Accha, beti.”

Isha shut the door and stood with the tiffin in both hands until her breath came back. She ate a little at the table. The food had no taste. Kunal sat across from her, dressed, and watched her not look at him.

The afternoon was not coming back. He could see it.

“You know why I said today’s game is for a week.”

“Why.”

“Leela called. I am going to the US for a week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I will miss you too.”

“Don’t lie. Those ladies at those parties. You will not think of me.”

“True. If I still remember Cathy, I will meet you in a week.”

She set the tiffin down. She kissed him on the mouth, deep, until she had to breathe. Then she opened the door and sent him out.