By the Bay Ch. 11

Ruby came to mind. The only reason he'd ruled her out in the first place was because she would be residing in the countryside at this time of year and it would be a hassle to make the hour's ride from the city to the countryside and back to see Anita everyday. But Anita and Meera would be very safe in Ruby's hands and he'd feel secure in knowing that they would still be alive when he returned.

Besides, they'd only need to stay in Ruby's establishment for a day or two, at most. Whatever the issue with Uncle Roger was, he would settle it as quickly as he could before returning to the women and delivering the promised tour of England. They could probably start with the ruins near Ruby's place, for it was always so beautiful and magical at nightfall, then proceed back to London to see the museums and architecture. He knew the gossip about him escorting Indian women around town would circulate faster than a bullet, but hell, it was worth it if it made Anita happy.

His fingers played over the keys of the typewriter, and without fully processing his thoughts, he typed the words in his mind onto a piece of paper.

My Island Girl

It had a beautiful ring to it, an intimacy that seemed to stroke his soul. It should frighten him, he knew, the closeness he felt with this woman, but instead, he felt that it was right. He would change nothing about his situation, nothing about their arrangement. He liked things the way they were. He liked that she was his.

Jay knew he should add the word 'temporarily' to his thoughts, but he refused to acknowledge that. He didn't want to think of the future and contemplated only the here and now, as he'd learned to live.

He snatched the piece of used paper out of the machine and folded it into half, storing it away in his leather-bound folder. Perhaps he would write a story about their relationship another time, sometime in the future, but for now, he was happy simply cocooned in his world with a beautiful island girl by his side.

*

Meera stepped into the small stucco building that was set apart from the schoolhouse. She'd never had the opportunity to enter the school teacher's office before, had always wondered what her private area looked like but never really had the guts to peek into the room as some of the other girls had. Now, she noticed that it was a small space taken up mostly by a table scattered with stacks of papers. The room was colored a cozy purple and the scent of lavender lingered in the air. A closed wooden door stood to the left of the room.

She stepped forward and rapped lightly on the door, calling Mrs. Druberry's name.

"Just a minute, dear," she heard the lady call.

Meera stepped away from the door and stood in front of the desk, playing with the petals of a dried rose on the table. Mrs. Druberry stepped into her office minutes later, pulling a purple shawl over her narrow shoulders.

"Hello Meera dear. What can I do for you today? Did you want to borrow more books? The schoolhouse is still open," she said, taking a seat behind her desk. She'd probably just taken a bath as strands of wet brown hair clung to her temples.

"No, madam. I – my sister and I are leaving the island sometime soon, and I was wondering if it is possible to get my graduation certificate earlier."

"Oh! That's right! The certificates!"

The old woman flitted out of her chair and picked up a package that lay by the small table near the door. Her nimble fingers quickly ripped the paper packaging and pulled out perfectly printed certificates.

"I always have them printed early just in case the printers have some kind of mix-up and delay the delivery," she murmured mostly to herself as she returned to the table, cleared the clutter with a sweep of her hand and set the certificates on the table.

"I just have to sign it and you can take it home with you."

Meera didn't think it was surprising that the certificates were a light purple. She didn't mind the color, but she loved the fact that she now had proof of her education in her hands. Now, wherever she went, she would be able to do well for herself because she was educated and had something to prove it. Anita would be so happy.

Mrs. Druberry signed the certificate with a flourish and handed the delicate piece of paper to her. Meera looked it over with a smile and thanked her teacher of ten years.

"Where did you say you were going, dear?" the teacher asked as Meera rose to leave.

"London, madam."

"Oh!" the old lady clapped her hands excitedly. "You'd love it there, girl. The history is rich and the atmosphere is inspiring. Especially the cold, so different from Singapore. Oh, you'll definitely have fun. Sometimes I wish I could return to London myself."

"Why don't you?" Meera asked, seating herself again.

The lady sighed. "I couldn't. I have too many responsibilities here to leave."

Meera reacted to the wistfulness in her teacher's voice. "Would you like me to send a letter to someone, perhaps?"

Mrs. Druberry waved her words away. "No, dear, but thank you."

Meera nodded and rose to leave again, but the teacher stopped her.

"Hold on, child. While you're in London, I'd like you to visit this place," she said, riffling through her desk for a piece of paper. When she found one, she dipped her pen in ink and scribbled an address on it. "It's a bookshop with the widest selection of books you'll ever see. They rent it out by the week, and it's really inexpensive. You might like it." Then the lady's eyes twinkled. "There's also a publishing house right upstairs. You could try your luck there as well."

Meera beamed as she looked the address over. A publishing house! That was exactly what she needed!

"Thank you so much, madam. You've been such a great help to me. How could I ever repay you?"

"Hush. I'll have none of that. Do something with your education and that'll be repayment enough."

Meera clasped her certificate to her heart. She couldn't contain her smile of sheer joy. Her happiness made her cheeks pink and skin glow. Finally, she had something concrete to pursue once she was in London! She wouldn't have to waste hours and days looking for a publishing house. Now she had the address to one in her hands! Could she consider this a good omen?

When she thanked her teacher again and left the small house, she felt like she was walking on air. And when the little girls in the playground waved at her, she blew them a kiss in return.

Behind her, standing to the entrance of her house, Mrs. Druberry murmured, "Bless you, girl."

*

A horrid jingling noise tickled her ear, coaxing Anita from sleep. She stretched languorously, luxuriating in the softness of Jay's bed. The warmth of sleep wrapped itself around her, sucking her back into half-formed dreams. Then the sharp jingle of bells reached her ears and she sat upright in bed, her hair tumbling from its bun and down her back. Beau, who'd crawled into Jay's bed sometime over the last few hours, got to his tiny feet and jumped into her lap. Anita blinked, wondering how on earth she'd gotten into Jay's bed.

The last thing she remembered was coming to the room to clean. She'd been exhausted, and told herself she would take just a minute to rest on the chair. Well, she must have fallen asleep and Jay must have put her on the bed when he'd returned.

She had only a minute to feel wretched about falling asleep while working before she heard someone knocking on the front door, followed by a few yanks on the doorbell.

Carefully setting Beau aside with a few soothing words, she tied her hair into a loose bun and rose to see who was at the door.

The knocking continued until she turned the lock on the front door and swung it wide open, fully prepared to blister the person's ears for the incessant knocking. But instead, the words died in her throat and she took two steps back.

"Hello," Sami said, his voice strained. He was dressed in a suit that fit him snugly around the shoulders and emphasized his thick muscles. It must be his work attire.

Anita opened her mouth and attempted to speak, but she could form no words. In truth, she didn't know what she was feeling, seeing Sami here this way. Was she angry with him? Was she disappointed? Was she wary of him? Truly, she didn't know. She watched him out of uncertain eyes, gripping the doorknob tightly.

"I wanted to speak with you," he continued, casting his eyes downwards and away from her. "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other night. I'd had too much to drink and it made me act the way I did, especially because I never drink. It was foolish of me to say those things I did."

Her breath became short. She still didn't know what to say to him.

"Anita, don't look at me that way. Please. I won't hurt you intentionally. You know me."

She looked away, still wary of him despite his words. She could not forget his behavior that night.

"Could we talk, please? I'd like to explain a few things to you."

She found her voice, hoarse and uncertain though it was. "I'm not sure I know what to say to you, Mama. I believe it best that you leave."

His hand shot out to stop her from closing the door and she jumped at the thud it made against the hard wood.

"Just a minute, Anita. Please."

"Mama, Jay will be down any moment and he won't be happy to see you here."

Sami's jaw tightened perceptibly at Anita's use of the white man's first name. He just needed a moment with her to clear things up. He needed to explain his actions to her, confess his feelings, and...

"There's no use, Anita. If you will not see me today, I'll simply come back tomorrow."

She worried on her bottom lip while he shifted his weight from one foot to another nervously.

"Fine," she said finally. "But only for a few minutes. I'll meet you at the beach. I don't want you to stay here pick a fight with Jay like you did the last time."

Sami sighed, picking up his briefcase from where it lay against the ornate black handrail. "Thank you," he murmured before walking away.

Anita closed the door with a soft click and leaned against it for a moment. She didn't want to go to the beach, didn't want to face Sami. But the man had looked so rejected, so defeated and so apologetic that she couldn't help but give in to him. After all, he'd been her childhood sweetheart and that soft spot for him would always remain in her heart.

Tucking her sari securely around her waist, she padded across the floor to the backdoor, hoping to get their talk over with as soon as she could. She just hoped it wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

*

"I only have a few minutes," she said as she neared him, stopping a few feet away from him. Sami noticed the physical distance she kept herself at and felt a pang of grief ripple through him.

"Anita, you must know that I am deeply sorry for what happened the other night. I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand."

Anita shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said. "I've already forgotten it."

She could see a spark of hope creeping into his dark eyes. "Really? You have?"

She nodded. "Yes. Let us just put the encounter aside, shall we?"

He smiled. "I would like that very much. A new start. It will be perfect. I'll not mess it up this time."

"That sounds wonderful, but I don't think it's wise for us to keep seeing each other. In fact, I don't even have much time left on the island."

He looked taken aback. "Why? Are you leaving? Where are you going?"

"I'll be going to England for some time."

She became slightly afraid of the dangerous spark in his eyes. "With the white man?"

She averted her eyes. "Yes."

"Why? Is he forcing you? I'll kill him if he is."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, no. I want to go with him. He's not forcing me to do anything."

"Then why, Anita, huh? Why?"

She sighed heavily. "I like him, Mama."

"Yes, but you don't have to sleep with him!" The words hit her like a crude slap to the face.

"What I do or don't do is none of your business," she said stiffly.

"It is when I want you to be my wife."

Silence greeted his statement, punctuated only by the roar of the waves. She swallowed thickly, wondering what on earth she was going to say to that. It was impossible that she consider marriage to him. She would never allow herself to wed him because she knew she would never be wholly his. She would also be breaking up a family with five little girls. She wouldn't be able to live with herself.

"Mama," she said softly. "I can't. You know that."

"I know that you loved me once and I let you down. You will learn to love me again as I love you when we are wed. Despite everything that's happened, I still want you, Anita."

She shook her head. "I was young then. I cried when I heard you were getting married to another woman, but the tears lasted for only a day and then I forgot all about it."

He turned away from her sadly. "But I remembered you, almost everyday. When my wife gave birth to daughter after daughter, I thought, if I'd married Anita, she would have given me sons. I never stopped remembering."

"Then why didn't you come to see me earlier?" she said, anguished, then shook her head. "It wouldn't have mattered. You're already married. I would never take you away from your family."

He laughed bitterly. "What kind of man do you think I am, Anita? I would not abandon my family. I'll still support them financially."

"Financially is not enough. Your children need a father." She sighed. "Mama, please. Forget these dreams of taking me to wife. I will not consent to it."

"You break my heart when you say that."

"I'm sorry, but I simply cannot do it. I think you're a great man, and you'll make a splendid husband, but I will not live with the curse of a scorned woman upon my head."

"You will not even think about it?" His voice was hoarse with the pain of a breaking heart. Although she had no wish to hurt him, she knew it was necessary that she put him off the idea of wedding her entirely.

"I think you already know the answer to that," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, sending his suit ruffling across his broad shoulders. He really was a handsome man, and had things been different, she would have thought herself lucky for having gotten the affection of a man like him.

Sami dug through his briefcase to look for the gift he'd bought her. It was of no use to him now and he did not want to keep it in remembrance of her. He extracted the little blue box and handed it to her.

"I was going to do it the English way since it's not possible to do it the Indian way. But now I'd like you to have it in remembrance of me when you leave for England."

She took the box from him and opened it. A small gold ring topped with a round pearl sat in the velvet, and she stared at it for the longest time.

A stray tear trailed slowly down her cheek.

"I can't-," she began to say but he cut her off.

"Have it. I've no use for it any longer."

Then he turned away, trudging through the sand in his shiny black shoes towards the Indian village. She closed the blue box and watch him leave, feeling an intense indefinable emotion roiling through her.

"Wait!" she called, and the wind carried her voice to him. He stopped in his tracks but he didn't turn to face her. She raised her skirts and ran to him, stopping only when she stood directly in front of him. She saw the tears glimmering in his eyes and felt her heart break.

"I'm truly sorry," she murmured.

Then she kissed him.

Upon reflection, she didn't know why she did it. Perhaps it was because he'd looked so broken and it seemed like an appropriate way to comfort him at that point in time. There was no concrete reason that made her kiss him.

When she tried to pull away, he held her to him forcefully for a moment before thinking better of it. His fingers rose to caress a smooth, dark cheek and she let him. Her eyes glimmered with tears of guilt.

"Please," she heard him say, his voice low and hoarse.

She wanted to say yes just so that the burden of guilt would be lifted from her shoulders. But then she thought of Jay and what she would be giving up. She thought of Sami's wife and family. She knew she'd never be able to live with herself if she chose to be this man's wife just because she felt guilty for denying him.

"Please," he repeated, anchoring her to his body with one thick arm. "Please, don't leave."

And the intense yearning in his eyes had her swallowing thickly.

*