It was dark by the time she reached the Taj. Despite her fatigue, she briefly considered crossing the street and walking under the arch of the Gateway to the sea at Apollo Bunder, the sea that had been the backdrop to her childhood. Instead, she passed through the metal detectors of the hotel—a legacy of the 2008 attacks, the apologetic young woman receptionist had informed her when she’d checked in—and then took the elevator to her room.
Chapter Seven
In the morning, Smita got to the hospital with moments to spare. The nurse and ward boy were in Shannon’s room, about to transfer her to a gurney to wheel her to surgery. Mohan and Nandini, both of them grim faced, barely glanced at her when she entered the room.
“Smits,” Shannon said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
The words were a broom, sweeping away the last of her resentment at being summoned to Mumbai. “Me too,” she said. “And here’s the good news—there won’t be a verdict today. So I’ll be able to stay with you all day.”
She was dimly aware of the fact that Nandini had spun around to stare at her. But the next second the woman continued arguing with the nurse in Marathi, and Smita could only make out a word or two. She heard the words for bed and transfer, and then heard the nurse say, “Accha, fine. We can take her from here only. Okay?”
“Good,” Nandini said, with a satisfied smile. She turned to Shannon. “They will transport you to the operation theater on this bed, Shannon. They will not put you on the gurney.”
Shannon threw Smita a wry look. Can you believe this shit? she appeared to signal.
“Where do we wait? Can we go with her?” Smita asked Mohan.
“What?” He looked at her absently, as if he’d forgotten who she was. “Yes, of course.” He turned to the nurse. “Chalo, let’s go.”
Shannon extended her hand to Mohan as the male transporter unlocked the bed. “Thanks a million, love,” she said. “I don’t know what I would’ve—”
“No thanks necessary,” Mohan said, shaking his head vigorously. “We’ll see you soon.”
“Inshallah,” Shannon replied, and Smita smiled at her effortless use of the word.
Nandini walked beside the bed as they wheeled Shannon to the operating room, Smita and Mohan following. At the large metal door their little caravan came to a halt. “Only patients past this point,” the nurse said, looking directly at Nandini, as if bracing herself for an argument. But Nandini nodded wordlessly before taking Shannon’s hand in hers. “Good luck,” she said.
“Thanks, Nan. Make sure you take an early start tomorrow, okay? You should pick Smita up and—”
“Shannon,” Mohan and Nandini said in unison, and Shannon smiled.
“See you all later,” she said. “Go get a bite to eat, all of you.”
They wandered back to Shannon’s room to wait, making desultory conversation along the way. Nandini went immediately to the window and stood there, her back turned to Smita and Mohan. Smita shot him an inquiring glance, but he seemed oblivious to her. The conversation sagged and after ten minutes or so, Mohan leapt to his feet. “I need to go outside for a while, yaar,” he announced. “Just to get away from this atmosphere.”
Smita’s stomach sank at the thought of being left alone with Nandini, without Mohan’s buffering presence. The young woman turned around, and Smita saw that her eyes were red and puffy. She caught her breath. “Nandini,” she said. “Shannon is going to be fine.”
“She needs me here,” Nandini said fiercely. “Doctor said it will be a long recovery. Shannon said you were born and bred in India. Why you cannot go to Birwad by yourself?”
Even though she understood the reason for Nandini’s disdain, Smita was taken aback by her hostility. “I . . . I haven’t lived in India in twenty years,” she said. “I was a teenager when I left, you see. So I’m not sure if my Hindi is up to the task. And I’ve never driven in this country.”
“Smita,” Mohan said, “Nandini doesn’t really mean what she said. This is just her worry for her friend speaking. Hai na, Nandini bhen? You wouldn’t really wish for Smita to travel alone, correct?”
The moments ticked by. Finally, Nandini nodded.
“Right,” Mohan said briskly, as if he were unaware of the reluctance with which Nandini had answered. “Shannon always tells me what a professional you are. This was just a moment’s weakness.” He rubbed his hands together. “Chalo, good that we have all this cleared up. Now, I can go for a quick walk. Maybe get you something to eat.” He looked at Smita. “How about you? Shall I pick up some breakfast for you?”