She threw on the kaftan and slipped out still holding the vodka. He guided her silently around the back end of the pool, warning her to keep quiet. She could hear laughter and conversation inside the villa, saw the spilling light, and through a side window she caught a glimpse of Bunty and Ram Singh. Then it was gone, and they were through the gate to the dim silence of the lawns. The uneven ground made her conscious of her foot. Ajay led her without a torch back through to the clearing in the woods where Sunny’s car was still parked. The lights came on when she opened the door, they burned too brightly in the night. Ajay came round with a first-aid kit. With deference and care, he disinfected her wound, put a large plaster on, then a bandage. She watched him silently as he took care of her. Then she climbed in and slammed the door and pressed herself deep into the coldness of the leather seat and waited speechless and motionless as Ajay started the engine and the interior went dark.
* * *
—
They drove in silence to the rear gate.
Delhi returned.
Men on cycles, potholed roads, neon lights.
Noise.
They drove toward the Qutb, joined the main road, and slipped into the traffic. Just another car.
She sat so Ajay couldn’t see her, slumped with her back against the door, her legs out across the seats.
“Ajay,” she finally said, as the car waited at the red light of the IIT Flyover.
“Yes, madam.”
“Is Sunny OK?”
He hesitated. Then said, “Everything is fine.”
Silence hung until the light changed.
Fresh movement relieved them both.
Ajay turned the radio on low. The station was playing old film songs.
She asked him to turn it up loud.
* * *
—
The guards at her colony entrance opened the gate without question—they recognized the car, Ajay knew her house. He parked outside and waited for her to climb out. So this was how it ended.
Her hand opened the door.
“Ajay.”
“Yes, madam.”
“Thank you.”
She climbed out with the vodka in her hand and closed the door and limped barefoot and bedraggled toward the safety of her home.
* * *
—
She entered using the key beneath the aloe plant, holding the bottle of vodka behind her back, listening to the Audi pull away. Her father was awake, sitting in lamplight in the living room in his favorite armchair, patched up many times over the years, watching a DVD. He looked over the top of his reading glasses. “Cinderella . . .”
He said nothing about her clothing, her bare feet.
“What are you watching, Papa?”
“Apur Sansar.”
She drew closer to him, kissed him on the forehead. His nose twitched.
“You smell like the Moscow Olympics.” He reached behind her back, examined the vodka. “What’s this? Gold medal?”
“The consolation prize.”
“Well, let’s be having some, daughter of mine. Just a small glass before we retire. We can have one of your mother’s cigarettes too, and you can lie to me about your adventures in the night.”
She fetched two glasses from the cabinet while he opened the bottle and sniffed. “Do you want ice?”
“No, no. You’ll wake her. Just pour it neat.”
She poured two stiff measures until the bottle was over, passed one to him, and fetched her mother’s Classic Mild, then she pulled up a stool by his chair.
On-screen, a grieving Apu wandered the coalfields of central India, scattering his novel to the winds.
“So?” he said, enjoying the vodka sting on his lips.
“So . . . Did Mom tell you?”
She lit the cigarette.
“That a boy came to get you?”
“No, not that.”
“Ah, yes, that other thing. She did, she did. I’m sorry, my child. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“If I could just disappear, I would.”
He studied her. “Are you in trouble?”
She shook her head. “No.” Then changed her mind. “Maybe.”
She passed the cigarette to him. He inhaled once, very deeply, held the smoke in his lungs, tilted his head back, and, eyes closed, exhaled rings.
She laughed in childish pleasure. “You’ve still got it.”
“I do.”
“You used to do that for me all the time.”
“It shut you up when you were crying.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I can’t protect you anymore.”
He knocked the rest of the vodka back.
There was nothing more to say.
He returned to the film, and she took the glasses to the kitchen, put out the cigarette, and slipped upstairs. She showered in very hot water. She was asleep the moment she crawled into bed.