‘No, I thought it would be easier for you to come to mine. Deepali and the twins are coming too.’
‘What about Rohini and Priya?’
‘Papa, you know my flat’s not big enough. Rohini is at work, anyway.’ Mukesh was relieved that Rohini wouldn’t be there – he could just about deal with the Nilakshi conversation with Vritti and Deepali, but adding Rohini to the mix would make it much harder. ‘I can come and pick you up if that’s easiest?’
Mukesh shook his head. He thought of the demons he’d conquered during the trip with Priya to central London – he could do this.
‘Papa?’
‘No, no. I will get the Tube.’
‘It’s a long way … you sure?’
‘Totally sure! I know the Tube. I used to know the timetables and the routes off by heart. I will be fine.’
‘Okay, I know. See you later, Papa! Jai Swaminarayan.’
Mukesh was looking forward to going further afield today, looking forward to seeing his daughters – despite the impending doom about the Nilakshi situation. He might even try reading some more of Pride and Prejudice on the train. But the font was so much smaller than the other books and he worried it would make him feel twice as queasy. It was funny, so far he’d discovered that Mr and Mrs Bennet have five daughters – a gaggle of strong-minded and exuberant women that reminded him more than a little of his own three – and Deepali was so much like Lydia Bennet. He knew he was being cruel, but it was true! Gossipy and self-involved, Lydia shared a fair few character traits with the youngest Patel sister. The shock on her face when she’d seen Nilakshi open the door; yes shock, but there was a hint of glee too, wasn’t there? He could tell Deepali had already been imagining herself disclosing the scandal to Rohini and Vritti when she got home. He thought about Rohini then – was she most like the main Bennet sister, Elizabeth? Queen Elizabeth! Bright, intelligent, but always one to judge someone straight away – that was quite like Rohini. And Vritti – was she Jane, who always gave people the benefit of the doubt – or was she Mary? He didn’t really know much about Mary – she was plain. And he didn’t think Vritti was plain at all. And finally, there was Kitty – quite cheeky and silly, always getting into trouble and mischief. Mukesh was glad none of his daughters was like Kitty – she would have run Mukesh and Naina ragged.
He thought again of gossipy Lydia-esque Deepali. What was he letting himself in for? He took a deep breath, needing to prepare, and he tapped his pocket. He had his keys, and crucially his 60+ Oyster card – Harish always called it the ‘old persons’ Oyster’， but Mukesh knew to give it its proper name, as TFL would want him to. He was ready to go.
Apart from the swish new bathroom, Vritti’s flat hadn’t changed much since he had last been here. It was a fairly modern block of flats, with a lift up. ‘So good that she has a lift, Dad!’ Deepali had said. It was bright to make up for the fact that it wasn’t spacious; and it was airy to make up for the fact that there wasn’t a garden, though there was a small balcony covered with plants – all green, no flowers.
The flat itself was minimal with lots of art on the walls. Vritti had never had much stuff. She’d never wanted much stuff, unlike the other two. But Mukesh wondered if this flat really felt like a home. Could it feel like a home without piles of merchandise from the mandir in every corner, the pink Tupperware used for prasad recycled as candle-holders, pots for safety pins and a salt and jeeru container? Without the family photos and pictures of Swami Bapa haphazardly framed and hung on every wall? Without Naina’s saris everywhere?
Naina had always loved this flat though – it represented a life she just couldn’t have because instead she’d raised three children, and three grandchildren, and kept a home as well as a job too. She loved this flat because her daughter had made it her own, and Naina had always prided herself on letting her daughters do what felt best for them, and making a space in the world for themselves. ‘Because if you don’t, who will?’ she used to say.
Vritti was standing at the door ready to greet him as he came out of the lift. Her arms were open wide, as they always were whenever she was greeting family, friends. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d loved to play the host.
‘Dada!’ Jaya and Jayesh, Deepali’s twins, chimed in unison from behind the door. Mukesh clamped his hands over his ears, hoping he wouldn’t end the day with earache as the two little ones hugged his legs.