Seema's Journey Ch. 03

Then, as if an answer of sorts, a yellow taxi trundled down the fly-over. Its light was on. Seema made a quick decision and waved it down.

"Diedrick Place please, next to the supermarket on Factory Road. Thanks."

#

Seema drummed her fingers on her lap as the taxi took an age to reach the flats where Simran lived. At one point, she could clearly see the glassed frontage of one of the four buildings, and considered paying the fare and running the last part of the journey.

Eventually the taxi stopped right outside the building's entrance.

"Fifteen please love."

Seema gave the driver twenty. "Keep the change. Thank you."

"Thank you sweetheart," called the taxi driver as Seema hastily clambered out. She ignored the ache in her ankles and jogged towards the apartment block. The white clouds and interspersed lakes of blue sky were perfectly mirrored in the glass frontage.

Thankfully, Seema was able to enter the building just as another resident had typed the security code into the keypad next to the automatic door. High heels and a nice suit can be useful, thought Seema. She raced up the stairs, working up a sweat before she reached Simran's floor. She had to steady her pace as she pushed through the heavy double doors that opened onto Simran's corridor.

Seema reached Simran's door. She knocked.

"Sim," she called, still catching her breath.

There was silence. She knocked again. Nothing. She peered through the keyhole and could see the curtains were still open, but there were no lights on and no sign of anyone being home. Out of desperation, Seema called Simran's home number. She could hear the old fashioned bell phone ringing from within Simran's flat, out of synch with the ringtone on her phone. Simran's answer machine chirped into life, her voice echoing eerily from within her flat.

"Oh Sim, where are you?" Seema whispered, feeling a strong pang on hearing Simran's voice. She turned to rest against the door, desperately trying to think of what to do next. She shook her head and slumped dejectedly to the floor to stare at Simran's picture on her 'phone screen.

She wondered whether she should call the police, but it had only been an hour. Still, it was very strange Simran hadn't contacted her. Seema figured that their streams of texts to each other had come to a halt roughly at the time Simran had apparently left work. Seema rubbed her tired and worried eyes.

#

She had been slumped against Simran's door for nearly half an hour, willing Simran to come through the double doors at the end of the corridor. She grew more and more concerned.

The echoing beeps of her 'phone made her jump in the quiet of the corridor. She grabbed her phone. On the screen, Simran's number and face appeared. Seema's spirits shot up and a warm gush of relief washed over her. She thumbed the envelope icon.

'Seema, we need to meet. Barney's in half an hour. Simran.'

Seema re-read the message and frowned. There were no kisses, and the implied tone was totally different to anything Simran had sent before. Seema started to worry again, figuring it must be serious. She checked the time. Another taxi should get her to Barney's easily inside half an hour.

With heavy legs and aching feet, she quickly made her way downstairs and out into the open.

#

Barney's was a regular haunt for the business suits to grab a quick bottle of beer, or glass of red between work and home. Seema had spent quite a few evenings there with Jake and his idiot friends. Prices were exorbitant for what was basically a posh cafe licensed to sell alcoholic beverages. For some reason unfathomable to Seema, it had at some point become a 'tres cool dig' for the business boys and girls, especially if one liked vividly coloured cocktails with obscene names. 'Booze and tea-cakes' Jake had called it. The walls were covered in darkened pine cladding and large mirrors which suited the low and moody lighting. Black and white pictures of celebrities, unknown to most of the clientele, hung on the walls along with several beaten up musical instruments supposedly signed by their famous owners.

The bar was a solid flat hunk of wood polished to a shine, and behind all the exotic and multi-coloured spirits and liqueurs, a long mirror gave Seema a good view of the clientele as she paid for her diet coke. She picked a spot near the door, thankful that it was propped open to allow a little breeze to cool the interior.

She sipped her drink and checked the time. Five minutes early. She frowned, looking at her hands as she realised she was shaking. She wondered what Simran wanted to say, and why she wanted to meet here to say it. Did she want to chat on neutral ground? Seema's worry deepened. From the tone of her text message, Seema guessed it was serious. What bothered her the most was the lack of kisses in the message, and the fact that she had typed 'Seema'. Simran hadn't called her 'Seema' since after their first introduction.

Seema closed her eyes as dread filled her. Simran must want to talk about 'them', she figured. She peered towards the door. From where she sat, she had a view allowing her to see people just before they entered, but only from one direction.

Just as she took another sip of the cool iced-coke, three suited men strode in. She recognised them instantly, her heart missing a step. They were Jake's friends. Seema froze as one of them stared at her coldly. She wondered why Simran would want to meet here of all places. Jake's compatriots turned towards the bar and ignored her from then on, for which she was thankful. A chill came over her as she suddenly thought Jake might be meeting them there. She nearly panicked and ran out, but Simran was too important to her. Besides which, shouldn't Jake be in custody, Seema thought.

Seema became jittery and silently willed Simran to hurry up. She should have been there by now. Simran was never late for anything. She flicked through Simran's text messages on her 'phone. The majority of the characters were x's and the word 'love' cropped up regularly. The last message, cold and stripped of kisses stood out like a sore thumb.

"Seema, I take it?"

Seema jumped at the sonorous voice and looked up just as its tall and well-dressed owner sat down on the opposite side of the table. Eagle eyes regarded her from a thin face covered with a precisely sculpted greying beard.

"Oh, hi. Umm, hello," Seema stammered. She was not expecting Simran's uncle to be present. She couldn't stop her face from falling on seeing him sat opposite her, but she didn't care. She wondered why he was here. Did Simran know that he was here?

Simran's uncle Mo' smirked at Seema's reaction before beckoning a passing waiter and asking for a mineral water. He returned his gaze to Seema. He remained silent, folding his arms.

"Umm, where's Sim? Simran..." Seema asked. Her face felt hot and she couldn't stop her hands trembling. She sipped her coke, avoiding his detached gaze.

The waiter returned with a clear glass of mineral water and a napkin. Simran's uncle nodded his thanks and took a long sip. He placed the glass on the table, wiped his mouth with the napkin and folded it precisely before placing it next to his glass.

"She wanted me to meet you instead," he said quietly. He looked at her seriously, exhaling slowly whilst tugging the sleeves of his blue pinstripe suit jacket. "She feels a little...guilty."

"About what?" Seema uncomfortably met his gaze. She had a nagging, depressing feeling that his presence was in some way ominous.

"Leading you on. It is wrong to lead someone on, is it not?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I don't understand." Seema glanced at the bar. Jake's friends were being rowdy as per usual, focusing their attention on the barmaid who looked incredibly bored. "Why is Sim not here? She sent me a text asking me to meet her here~"

"Simran doesn't love you," he interrupted, smiling without humour. "How could one woman love another woman? That is wrong, is it not? She has come to her senses, Seema."

Seema's breath caught in her throat. She felt like she had been sucker punched. She took a gulp of coke, wincing slightly as the gaseous liquid stung her throat.

"Simran is a normal girl," he emphasised, pouncing on Seema's silence. "Not like you, thankfully. She felt sorry for you, and unfortunately...one thing lead to another. She feels dirty now, do you see? You made her feel unclean~"

"Rubbish," Seema blurted, a little louder than she had intended. Several faces turned in their direction, including Jake's associates. The barmaid saw her chance and escaped their lascivious attentions.

"Really?" He leant forward resting his elbows on the table. He frowned and his eyes took on a dark glower. "Not so. I'm afraid, Seema, she has thankfully come to the conclusion that two women being together is not normal. She is not disgusting like you. Whoever heard of two women truly loving each other, hmm? It serves no biological purpose."

Tears stung Seema's eyes. She thought of the loving text messages she had exchanged with Simran throughout the morning. There was no hint of anything other than love and happiness. How could things have changed so quickly? Why couldn't Simran tell her herself instead of getting her uncle to do it? She glared at him, suddenly angry at his hurtful words.

"Sim said you would be a problem. I bet you've been filling her head with rubbish..." Seema gulped, stopping herself from sobbing. She wanted to yell at him, to call him a small-minded bigot.

"She doesn't want to see you ever again. That is plain enough for you, is it not?" His voice was firm.

Seema tried to glare back, but she couldn't meet his eyes. She couldn't stop her lip from quivering. Salty tears started rolling down her cheek.

"Besides which," he said quietly. "She is ultimately thinking of her inheritance. I will not pass it on to her if she is involved with another woman. That would be a disgrace, would it not?"

"Simran's not like that," Seema sobbed. "She's...she said she loved me...she..."

Simran's uncle stood up, throwing a few coins on to the table.

"Simran does not want to see you again. Understand? Why would she want to be with another woman? It is disgusting."

There was the slightest hint of pity in his eyes which Seema found just as upsetting as his curt words. She felt small. Seema stared at her coke, fizzing and bubbling in her straight glass. She wasn't aware of Simran's uncle Mo' leaving, nor of his sly sneer. Her tears rolled down her cheeks and she needed to wipe her nose. She rummaged in her bag for a tissue, but couldn't find one. She closed her eyes. All she could see was Simran.

"Are you ok Miss?"

Seema looked up to see the waiter, a concerned frown upon his face. She nodded, clamping her lips shut to stem her emotions. She scrabbled around in her bag, retrieved her purse and pulled a note out, quickly giving it to the waiter. She figured that she looked a mess and felt the need to get out quickly.

"Er, thank you, Miss, but..."

Seema made for the door, her eyesight blurred by the salty liquid welling up in her eyes.

"Miss...Miss, you've already paid~"

Seema ran out, unsteady on her feet. Ignoring the ache in her feet and ankles, she kept running and running, and out in the quiet street she let herself cry out loud.