A Quiet Dissonance, page 7
Anu’s smile remained fixed on her face as she thanked the vicar, who shook her hand warmly.
“A very merry Christmas to you too. Please come again. Everyone is welcome in God’s house.”
* * *
“Where were you yesterday?” Anu asked Simone accusingly.
“Why, did you miss me?”
“I could’ve done with a familiar face.”
“How was the lion’s pit?”
“I survived. Seriously, why didn’t you come?”
“I did. I just stood at the back, watched the whole thing, then grabbed Kayla and left as quickly as I could.”
“And there I was, saving you a seat...” She didn’t want to admit the humiliation of sitting on her own until Julie joined her.
“Good show, huh? They always do it well, I have to say.”
“Very good show. My first, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I think Ravi was a bit jealous he couldn’t see it, but his meeting couldn’t be postponed.”
“What did you think of the vicar and the battle axe?”
“He seems nice, but her...”
“Well spotted. She’s got her favourites, and you and I will never fall into that category. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”
“Honestly, I don’t care. How much am I going to see of her, anyway? I’m just a little tired of all this covert exclusionism.”
“Ooh, big words! Someone’s getting all knotted up.”
“Simone, sometimes I think we made the biggest mistake coming to this country. We are treated like second-class citizens here, no matter what we do.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently the gift we bought Gina was too over the top. It shows that I’m needy and wanting attention.”
“What did you buy, and who said that?”
“It was a pretty red coat for thirty pounds from Next. Natalie took me aside and told me I was putting out all the wrong signals. Apparently nobody buys anything over a fiver. Is that true? I thought I was doing a good thing!”
“Anoo, thirty quid? That is extravagant! You should have asked me. Most of these mums buy some crappy rubbish from Primani, wrap it up in fancy paper and ribbons and present it like they’re handing over the Crown Jewels.”
“How was I to know? They’re all so rich I thought that’s the sort of gifting they do.”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet? The richer you are, the more miserly you become.”
* * *
❖
Finding the hall in Slough wasn’t easy, even with her SatNav. Anu drove around for ages with Neha getting testy in the back of the car.
“Do I have to learn dance?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. This is just a trial lesson.” She glanced at Neha in the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you want to meet other little Indian girls?”
“No,” she pouted truculently.
Neha had been in a mood all afternoon, and despite all her gentle probing, Anu hadn’t extracted a reason yet.
“Here we are!” Anu sighed with relief, spotting the entrance to the temple car park.
The class had already started when they walked into the hall, so they just waited in the back. Neha seemed fascinated with the quick foot movements of the girls practising Kathak. The teacher was a kindly older lady who called out instructions, correcting girls if they got something wrong and smiling when everyone moved in tandem.
Another lady sat down next to her.
“Hello,” Anu smiled at her. “Are you new too?”
She gave her a supercilious look and said, “Those are my daughters in the front.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise. How long have they been coming for lessons?”
“Nearly four years. They are the best in the class.”
The girls were good, but not outstanding, and Anu had to wonder why the woman was being so boastful.
She watched the rest of the lesson in silence, while the woman next to her pulled out a mobile phone and launched into a long conversation in Gujarati. Near the end of the lesson, other mothers trooped in, exchanging pleasantries with each other. They gave her and Neha curious looks, but no one spoke to her.
Once the lesson finished and the girls disbanded, Anu went up to the grey-haired teacher, Mrs Madhok.
“Namaste1, I’m Anu Dhawan and this is Neha. I spoke to you over the weekend about enrolling my daughter in Kathak classes.”
“Oh yes,” Mrs Madhok looked at her and smiled. “We’ll be happy to have Neha join us. As this term has already begun, maybe she’d like to start in January?”
“Yes, that would work out fine for us.”
“You are welcome to bring her in for a few introductory classes. The older girls can show her some moves too.”
Satisfied, Anu and Neha walked back to the car.
“Mummy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Daisy said that you speak with a funny accent.”
“Oh?”
“She said you pretend you aren’t Indian when you talk.”
“But baby, this is how I’ve always spoken.”
“Then why don’t you sound like those ladies in there?”
“Because some of them have grown up in this country, so they speak English like locals.”
“But that other lady didn’t speak like Mrs Pellow.”
“Neha, accents depend on which part of the world you come from. Sometimes you could be from the same country and speak with totally different accents. Mummy grew up in Delhi and studied in a convent school, which is why I speak the way I do. The dance teacher is also from India, but she speaks differently from Mummy. Similarly, the other lady probably grew up around here, and her accent differs from Mrs Pellow’s.”
“I don’t like it when they make fun of you.”
“I know, baby. Don’t let it bother you. Look at me, I don’t care, do I?” Anu plastered a big smile on her face as she unlocked the car and put Neha inside.
But she did care, and increasingly, she was finding her self-confidence being chipped at in a million different ways.
* * *
“Chilly there and cold here, what’s the difference Anu? Just pack as you’ve always packed. Why is it such a big deal?” Ravi looked annoyed when, for the umpteenth time, she asked him about the suitability of packing boots for their trip to India.
“I’m just trying to assess how much room we’ll have in the bags. We have to carry all those presents too.” She snapped back.
“Nobody has asked you to carry presents back. Why do you still insist on doing this? Everything is available in India now. It’s not 1990, you know!”
“Yeah, I know Ravi. But it’s never your problem, is it? If I don’t take something back for every single member of our families, guess who’ll get the blame?”
“Anu, these are people you barely speak to! Your half-brothers and sisters? Come on! Why are you still trying to appease them?”
“I’m not appeasing anyone. It’s just what people expect. You come from abroad, they expect a present or two.”
“Then train them not to! After the first few times, I promise you, they won’t even notice.”
“I can’t do that, Ravi. It’s just a token anyway, why are you making such a big deal of it?”
“You have become such a people pleaser Anu. Then you complain at the most minor of slights. Like everyone owes you something just because you went out of your way, even if they didn’t ask you to.”
Anu stomped out of the study and banged the door to their bedroom shut. How dare he! Just because she’d unburdened herself to him and revealed all her insecurities surrounding the school mums? So now he felt he could stand in judgement of her!
“Anu, I’m sorry. Please unlock the door. Listen, I was way out of line there. I’m just stressed about completing this report tonight. Please!”
She remained adamant, refusing to speak to him. But her tears flowed freely, self-doubt creeping up on her again.
* * *
❖
India was just as busy as she had expected it to be. Varsha bua had prepared a room for them, but as soon as they arrived, she cornered Ravi and left Anu and Neha to their own devices. Anu tried not to resent this, but it was a pattern that had been repeated over the years. Varsha bua had never hidden the fact that Anu would never have been her choice for her beloved nephew. Too plain, too ordinary. Ravi should have had someone glamorous, like her sister-in-law in Dubai. Smita was effortlessly charming and never set a foot wrong. Anu, on the other hand, too full of insecurities, had never quite gelled with Ravi’s pushy aunt.
A week into their holiday, Anu was already tired of the party circuit. The men drank into the wee hours of the morning, reminiscing and comparing their successes with each other. The women talked diets and Botox, tearing down the absent ones, while Anu sat quietly in the corner, not sure where she fit in this dynamic either.
The family visits had been stilted and uncomfortable. Her half-brothers and sisters just about tolerated her. They took the presents, thanked her and set them aside without even looking at them. She wondered if Ravi had been right all along.
When it came time for her to fly to Mumbai and see Nonita, Anu was relieved. Even though Neha’s crestfallen face was more than she could bear.
“You go, Anu. Have fun! Give Noni our love, okay?”
Ravi kissed her, putting her in a taxi for the airport.
* * *
“Look at you! Just look at you!” Nonita always seemed to speak in exclamations. Anu returned her hug just as warmly. She couldn’t believe she was here, finally seeing her dearest friend after five long years.
“It’s after you had Neha that we lost touch,” Noni poured her a glass of wine. Anu looked at the breathtaking view of the Arabian Sea from the apartment and felt happy for her friend. Nonita had done really well for herself.
“This is beautiful, Noni. Did you decorate the apartment yourself?”
“Bits of it, but I hired an interior designer to do the rest. I’m just too busy for such large undertakings.”
“How’s the big bad world of magazine publishing?” Anu asked, settling into the plush armchair.
“Like any other big bad world, I suppose. You have the wolves in sheep’s clothing here too, but I’m a lot wiser these days.”
“I’m really pleased for you, Noni, and yes, I’m sorry about the five-year lapse in communication.”
“Hey, I wasn’t blaming you, jaanu,2 I was just stating a fact. Motherhood is a tough gig. How are you finding living in the UK?”
Everything came tumbling out of her in a rush. The inability to fit in anywhere, the clique of school mums, the disconnect with the other Indians, her fractious relationship with her mother, the constant feeling of being unworthy and unloved.
Nonita listened silently, topping up her wine glass and handing her a bowl of peanuts to munch on. When Anu had exhausted herself, she leaned over and held her hand.
“Firstly, there is nothing wrong with you. You have an artist’s soul and you feel everything very keenly. That doesn’t make it right or wrong. I could try to psycho-analyse the hell out of you, but you and I both know that you’ve had a tough childhood. It’s no wonder that you are always looking for love, especially a woman’s love. Aunty has never really been a proper mother to you. Hey, don’t cry! Hang on...”
Noni rushed to the bathroom, bringing back a handful of tissues.
“Here’s what I think you need to do. Get your ruddy art stuff out of the attic and start painting again. You were so damn good, I can’t understand why you stopped. Also, find your tribe, woman! There will be other mums like you wanting someone like themselves to socialise with. Why are you so obsessed with this Zoe bitch and her posse?”
“I... I guess, I just want to belong.”
“Sweetie, do you really want to conform to some outmoded pecking order to belong? You’re better than that!”
“Noni, is it me though? Do I give off a bad vibe? Annie said I have a resting bitch face. Is that true?”
Nonita laughed. “Since when did Annie’s opinion count? That woman doesn’t know her ass from her elbow.”
They both collapsed into giggles at that. Nonita was the very tonic she’d needed on this trip.
* * *
Her two days with Noni went by in a flurry of shopping, chatting, eating at new and exciting restaurants and drinking copious amounts of wine. She felt light and youthful again. Nonita had made her purchase clothes that flattered her slimmer figure, and suddenly she felt like she’d shed her ‘mummy’ persona and regained her old self once more.
“Now listen to me, Anu,” Noni steered the car with one hand, her other flicking the ash off her cigarette outside the window. “This is how I want you to be when you go back - happy and confident. Don’t let anyone knock you down. Do your own thang, girl. Let the haters hate as much as they like!”
Anu laughed at the slang Noni had adopted. Oh, how she wished she could’ve stayed longer!
At the airport they promised each other frequent phone calls and messages, vowing to never let life get in the way again. Anu walked towards the plane with a little spring in her step. Next year, she would do better. She would live life on her own terms, not predicated on other people’s opinions of her.
When she got to Varsha bua’s house in the afternoon, she saw her sitting outside and watching Neha play hopscotch on the road.
“Hello!” Anu called out, grabbing her bags out of the taxi. “I’m home.”
Neha came running and wrapped her arms around her in a big hug.
Varsha bua looked up with a slight smile.
“So soon? We didn’t miss you at all, did we Neha?”
Ravi came out just then, his face breaking into a big smile as he spotted her and came forward to take the bags out of her hands.
Sandwiched between her husband and daughter, Anu walked into the house, not bothering to dignify Varsha bua’s comment with a response.
PART 2
CHAPTER FIVE
“You remember the first time I asked you out to lunch?” Julie placed her sunglasses on her head and grinned at her. “You were like a rabbit caught in the headlights.”
Anu grinned back. They were sitting in the outdoor area of the new restaurant that had just opened in their village.
“Okay, so remember my treatment at the hands of Zoe & Co. had traumatised me! I really didn’t know what to expect from you ladies.”
“She’s still quite the bitch, isn’t she?” Jemima regarded her with her signature perspicacity. “I wonder why she feels the need to behave in such an abominable manner. What does it achieve?”
“I’ve always believed that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Julie said.
“Well, apparently she was some hotshot executive before she gave it all up for love. Just like you Anoo.” Louise dipped her bread in the olive oil and vinegar.
“Me? I was never a hotshot executive, just a lowly painter. And I haven’t given it up. I’m just waiting for the right time to start again.”
“Anyway, my point is that she was probably used to bossing people around, and now she’s diverting her energy towards terrorising school mothers.”
Anu looked around at the three women sitting with her and wondered how she had gotten so lucky. In the last two-and-a-half years they had bonded over lunches and dinners, long walks during which they had poured their hearts out to each other, and movie mornings followed by a dissection of the film over sneaky gin and tonics. They had spent so much time in each other’s company that she felt incomplete without them. This was her group, this was her tribe. And she had Julie to thank for it.
It was Julie who had introduced her to Jemima and Louise. She would probably not have run into them otherwise. Louise worked from home and ran her kids to school before rushing back to attend her online meetings. Jemima lived right opposite the school gates, so she crossed the road with her daughter, deposited her at the classroom door and ambled back.
The three of them had been fast friends for years, but they were all so different personality-wise that it made for an interesting mix.
Julie was the happy-go-lucky sort, with a ready smile and a sunshine personality, prone to odd bouts of dark humour. Louise was more no-nonsense, apt to say what was on her mind and take no prisoners. But it was Jemima that Anu had grown to like the most. The most sensitive out of the three, Jemima was also the most culturally aware. It was she who brought up the latest Indian films popular on the festival circuit. She was the one who had cared enough to delve into Anu’s past, fascinated by the snippets of culture and tradition that Anu revealed. Someday, she had said she wanted to travel to India, and asked if Anu would be her guide. Anu had agreed happily.
The last few years had seen Anu blossom into the person she wanted to be. Part of this lovely group of friends, and heavily involved in creating the mosaic at school, Anu felt happy and confident, just as Nonita had said she should strive to be. Which reminded her that her call to Noni was overdue.
“Look at the time, ladies! We’re going to be late for pickup again.” Julie laughed, not budging an inch.
“Clearly you’re in a hurry. Come on, or we’ll give Batty Betty a heart attack.” Louise said, picking up her bag.
Neha’s new teacher was so unlike Mrs Pellow that it was a wonder she had lasted that long with the eight-year-olds in Year 3. High-strung and volatile, it took little to set her off, earning her the nickname of ‘Batty Betty’.
As Jemima drove them towards the school, Anu looked to see if her new car was still in the spot she had left it in that morning.
“No one’s going to steal your car here, Anoo. We’re not living in East London.” Louise commented, following her gaze.
