to me! I’m so lucky to have this lovely baby to look after.” She kissed his plump arm. “I’m just being silly.”
“Do you feel—” I began carefully. “Is Radha’s presence...?”
Kanta shook her head vigorously. “Nahee-nahee. I’m sure it’s—I’m such a goose! I’ve seen it happen to women after motherhood. Emotions running high.”
She got up from the chair and gently laid the baby, now asleep, in his crib. She affected a false brightness as she buttoned her blouse. “Shall we have some tea?”
We eased out of the room.
* * *
Over biscuits and chai, I told Kanta and Manu about Shimla. Kanta clapped her hands. Manu congratulated me. I answered their questions about what I would be doing for Lady Bradley Hospital and Dr. Kumar’s clinic, and they responded with assurances about my future success. If not for Kanta, I told them, I would never have experienced Shimla and fallen in love with its majestic mountain range and its welcoming people.
After an hour, I excused myself to tell Radha the news. I had the feeling she was deliberately avoiding me. I found her in the back courtyard, hanging diapers on the clothesline.
When I told her Malik and I were leaving for Shimla in two weeks and that Parvati Singh had bought the Rajnagar house, she looked stunned. Her arms, which were about to pin a wet diaper on the clothesline, froze in midair.
Her reaction surprised me; I thought she’d be pleased to have me move so far away.
“You know it’s time for me to leave Jaipur,” I said gently. “I can no longer be a henna artist here, and I’m ready to try something different.”
“But...will I ever see you again?”
It occurred to me that after everything that had happened—Pitaji’s drowning, Maa’s death and Ravi’s betrayal—she might be thinking I was abandoning her, too. I squeezed her arm and smiled. “Anytime you want. I’ll send you a ticket. Come as often as you like. Of course, Malik will be busy at school, so you might be a little lonely.”
Radha eyed me warily. “Malik? In school?”
“He’s missed so much of it, but I’m not going to let him get away with it anymore. He’ll go to the Bishop Cotton School for Boys.” I dropped my voice to a mock-whisper. “He’s been practicing wearing shoes.”
I’d thought we would share a laugh, but she was lost in thought. I looked inside the basket of washed diapers and pulled one out. “It must be hard to see Niki every day and know that Kanta wants so much to feel like she’s his mother.”
There was a bag full of wooden clothespins hanging on the line. I pulled out two. “Losing a baby has been so hard for her. She had two miscarriages before this. She seems a lot less sure of herself. Not like the bubbly Kanta she used to be.”
I pinned the diaper to the line. “She probably worries that Niki loves you more. And you’re so good with him, so natural. If you weren’t here—of course, you are here, but if you weren’t—do you think the baby could get used to just being with Kanta?”
I glanced at my sister. She was chewing on her lower lip. With Radha I could only guide and suggest. She was strong-willed and preferred her own counsel. I had learned that much.
I reached for another diaper. “I know of a wonderful ayah who needs a job. She used to be with another family, but they don’t need her anymore. Lala is kind. She loves children. She would love Niki as if he were her own.” I paused. “That is, of course, if you decide to come with us to Shimla.” I touched her shoulder. “It’s up to you.”
She glanced at me and something flickered in her eyes.
I kept talking. “Malik would be over the moon, of course. He’s going to need help with his homework. If you were going to school there, you could help him. And, of course, Dr. Kumar would love it, too.” I laughed. “He misses chatting with you about poetry.”
Radha was quiet. But I could tell by the way she pursed her mouth that she was thinking about it.
* * *
Two weeks later, the Rajnagar house was empty. The movers had taken our heavy trunks for transport to Shimla. Malik had given my sagging cot to one of his friends whose father worked with jute. We were left with only the three vinyl carriers we would take on the train.
Tomorrow morning, Malik would pick me up in