On hearing the disconnected tone, Nandini cut the call and looked worriedly at the phone. It had been distressing to hear the stark fear in the elderly woman's voice. Clutching the instrument, she closed her eyes and prayed hard for Mr Bhargava's recovery. Images of her parents whizzed through her mind, as they habitually did during such situations. A tiny voice accusingly pointed out that her desire to spend more time with Prithvi had been granted. As remorse joined anxiety, she earnestly promised the Gods that she would be more careful while making wishes.

Rustling noises broke her concentration. She opened her eyes and looked around the empty room, then walked to the door that opened to the living room.

She'd not glanced around the hall while bringing Manisha inside. The room in front of her was congested with large pieces of furniture. Some papers lay alongside boxes that held clothes. A room at the opposite side of the hall appeared to be the office. Stairs that led to the first floor were to the right of that room.

In a corner of this untidy space, Lakshman Upadhyay was going through a sheaf of papers.

Nandini vacillated, unsure of what she should do next. She wanted to go out of the room and see Prithvi. She had to tell him about Mrs Bhargava's call. But she mainly wanted to see him because she'd felt troubled by his demeanour. Underneath the anger, something was gnawing at him....

"You're the girl who came with him."

Nudged out of her ruminations, she looked at Mr Upadhyay. He was peering at her in a friendly manner.

She nodded diffidently and walked towards him.

"You can tell me then. The woman he is looking for - is she a close relative of his? Maybe his mother?" he asked.

Nandini halted in the middle of the room, near the main door. She wasn't sure if she ought to offer information that Prithvi hadn't volunteered. But the gentleman had a trustworthy look, and he seemed anxious.

"Yes, she's his mother," she confirmed.

He groaned, and turned away to start going through the folders in the room in a haphazard fashion. "My wife was right. I really shouldn't have said it. I'm confident she has never stayed in this ashram. But to verify, I asked for particulars. He revealed she had very little money on her. And I said – you see, I was angry and upset about what happened," he explained remorsefully, before sadly continuing, "Without thinking, I said it would be better if he abandons the search and doesn't find out the fate of that lady. Because if a woman who has a house and land in her name can be treated like rubbish, a young, penniless female would have been ripped into bits within hours of being on the street. He didn't respond. Just walked out of the room. And my wife got angry," he added mournfully as he picked up a couple of files from the middle shelf of a showcase. "She asked me to examine the papers lying here while she goes through the records in the office."

Nandini stood motionless.

She thought of the battered woman upstairs, and then remembered the stunning woman whose photos she had seen. The astoundingly gorgeous Priyamvada...

"Where is he?" Nandini asked faintly, appalled by the mental imagery Mr Upadhyay's words had whipped up. If they had affected her like this, she couldn't fathom the impact on Prithvi.

"Outside. On the phone," Mr Upadhyay replied as he checked a bunch of papers. "He wanted us to file a police complaint immediately. But we explained its futility. He got irritated and said we shouldn't run this ashram if we couldn't protect the women," he said serenely.

"He didn't mean to insult you," she explained swiftly. "He means well. It's just that -"

"I won't take it personally if he hits me," the elderly man said wryly, looking at her. "And even otherwise, he's very young. I cannot expect him to understand certain realities. We've seen how the system works in this town. But he said he wouldn't let this happen again. He was leaving the room to make some calls in private when I remembered to ask him why he had come here in the first place. He told us about the woman and showed a photograph. I asked for more details, and then I said -" he stopped on guiltily recollecting the shocked dismay on the young man's face.

Extremely troubled, Nandini walked to the doors and peeked out to look for Prithvi, and spotted him on the far left side of the yard.

He was sitting comfortably in his typical style - the ankle of one foot resting on the knee of the other - on a bamboo chair, and talking on the phone. An umbrella was being held over him by a hefty man standing behind the chair. Another brawny man was energetically fanning him with a newspaper. Passersby were continually peering into the yard and shooting admiring-cum-uneasy looks at Prithvi.

Nandini gaped in bewilderment at the scene. She didn't remember seeing that chair. Or those men. They looked like thugs. And Prithvi – well, he could easily pass for an unusually handsome gangster.

What had he done to that man, she pondered restlessly. He had definitely not stopped at the slaps. She could ask Mr Upadhyay, but she still wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

Prithvi caught her amazed gaze in the middle of his conversation. She smilingly raised her right hand in a questioning gesture. She saw an answering spark of laughter in his gaze. But it faded even as she watched, and he glanced away.

Feeling horribly powerless, she gazed at him despondently. The compulsion to approach him with comforting words was strong. But what could she say...what assurances could she give that wouldn't be meaningless...

Her cellphone buzzed briefly. She quickly looked at its screen. It was a message from Nishi, asking how her day was going, and if everything was alright.

Nandini looked wistfully at her friend's name.

She badly wanted to see her mother at this moment. Partly to seek advice, and partly to just hug her. But she couldn't do either. The next best option would have been a talk with her buddies. But the conversation would eventually lead to topics that were better left untouched at present. They had witnessed her heartache when Prithvi had left. They had always respected her innate reluctance to discuss the relationship, and had not pressed for details when he had broken her heart. But both of them were angry on her behalf. Nishi had asked a few general questions, and based on her wary answers, had stated categorically that the relationship meant nothing to Prithvi.

And she herself had doggedly proclaimed that he was a closed chapter as far as she was concerned. Nandini recollected awkwardly. After all that, if she told them that she had run into Prithvi accidentally, her anger had dissolved in face of his difficulties, and she didn't want to be parted from him again...

At Mrs Upadhyay's gentle summons, Nandini turned from the door and was asked if she wanted to meet the other women in the ashram...

************************

Kadambari angrily regarded the ruffled man who had interrupted her supervision of the maids cleaning Prithvi's room. The request he was putting forth was laughable.

"...have to tell Mrs Bhargava that you'll take full care of Nandini," Sumer Singh said urgently. "She will let Nandini stay in this house if she is convinced that there is a dependable female presence in -"

"But I don't wish to convince Mrs Bhargava," Kadambari said frigidly. "I don't want her to leave that girl here."

"Keep your misconceptions aside and listen to me," Sumer Singh barked. "You have to do as I say if you want to celebrate Prithvi's birthday."

"And now you'll tell me the celebrations depend entirely on the girl," Kadambari scoffed.

"Do you know how he celebrates his birthday? By ignoring it completely. No one is allowed to mention it or wish him. He goes off on a solitary trip for the whole week surrounding the day, and doesn't take his phone along," Sumer Singh said bitterly, finding scant satisfaction in the horror on Kadambari's face. "When we were in Shamli, I'd believed it would be different for once. Then everything changed, and I'd given up hope. But with Nandini here, we have a chance. Our only chance. If you love Prithvi, you have to do this."

A guard knocked at the door. "She's here, Sumer Singhji. We've seated her in the living room."

Sumer Singh immediately strode out of the room. Kadambari wavered, and then unhappily followed suit.

*******************************

Sakshi noiselessly opened the door and entered the clean room. She walked to the single bed and caringly looked at the frail woman lying on it.

The mild sedatives had worked. Priyamvada was sound asleep, clutching a cloth with embroidered alphabets. Sakshi didn't need to examine it closely to know that they spelled 'Prithvi'. There were several other cloth pieces with the same embroidery. Lately, Priyamvada had also been stitching small shirts.

There were other signs of progress. But the biggest problem remained unsolved - Priyamvada's hallucinations about her husband.

Sakshi looked through the window at the yard.

As per the other women, Priyamvada had run to the gate with this cloth and spoken eagerly to the air...showing the embroidery to her dead husband....begging him to look at her....asking him who he was waiting for...

When the hallucination had ended, she'd broken down and wept inconsolably.

Feeling frustrated, Sakshi gazed at the prone figure again. Hoodwinked by two delirium-free months, she had assumed that Priyamvada had recovered fully.

But perhaps the tormented woman would never be rid of her emotional demons.

**********************************

"Absolutely not," Janki refused flatly.

Uday had gone senile. She had only dropped in to see the bungalow and its inhabitants to confirm that Nandini would be safe and comfortable in case the child decided to travel tomorrow morning. She'd felt reassured on seeing a very matronly female named Kadambari. Nevertheless, she couldn't let Nandini stay with these people for a week.

"Don't decline in haste," Uday Singh prompted. "You'll have to invent work for her to keep her busy, and you will be leaving her to the care of your servants. You're stressed about your husband's health. Do you really want to fret about a guest as well when he needs your full attention?"

"I would rather fret about her being in my house than yours," Janki said cuttingly. "And you know why."

Battling exhaustion and irritation, Uday Singh said, "She will be safest in this house. I assume you did your research on Prithvi yesterday. And I'm confident you didn't find any grime. He is not like me in the least," he said categorically. "He is protective about Nandini. And you may not have realised it, but he truly respects that girl."

"Uday, I don't have time for pointless discussions. I need to leave immediately."

Sumer Singh glanced at Uday Singh Rathod and wordlessly sought permission to speak. The latter granted consent with a nod.

Sumer Singh looked at the author and earnestly said, "Mrs Bhargava, Nandini is like my own daughter. I promise on the honour of my family that I won't let her face any problems. Please...please let her stay with us for 5-6 days."

Janki's doubtful gaze shifted to Kadambari. The plump woman exuded so much severity, sincerity and virtuousness, that she could be appointed the in-charge of a hostel full of hormonal teenagers.

"Will you take responsibility for Nandini's safety?" she asked directly.

"I will keep an eye on her at all times," Kadambari guaranteed austerely. Sumer Singh's dire warnings were restraining her. Otherwise, she would have broken the other woman's face for insinuating that Prithvi would harm that girl. He was the most decent and righteous young man on the face of this earth.

"We will be shifting to the palace in Daheer tomorrow or the day after," Uday Singh contributed, resting his back wearily against a cushion. "It is very close to Vishranti Nagar. You can come to check on her once a day if you wish."

Weighing options half-heartedly, Janki rose to her feet. "I'll call up Nandini tomorrow morning. If she says she wants to stay for more days, I'll consider it seriously."

***************************

The young man with a big cast on his right leg was nearing the middle of the road when the jeep came around a nearby bend at great speed. His life began flashing before his eyes. But then the vehicle slowed abruptly and eventually halted some meters from him. Thanking God, he gripped his crutches tightly and crossed to the other side as hurriedly as he could.

Prithvi waited till the man had safely reached the other side, then revved up the engine.

The idleness of those few seconds had given fresh life to thoughts that were pumping poison through his veins.

He had been well aware of the repulsive, dangerous situations his mother might have encountered on the streets. It was by sheer force of will that he had not let his mind go down that route.

Today, however, it had unexpectedly been spelled out for him in black and white through the arbitrary comment made by the old man and, in retrospect, the violence endured by that young woman...

***************************

Nandini released her breath and weakly slumped back against her seat. That had been a narrow escape. The most recent in a series that had begun immediately after their departure from the ashram. Luckily, the road ahead was clear for now, and judging by the familiar facades of a few houses and shops, they were close to home.

She gazed gingerly at Prithvi, and felt a painful tug at her heart. He was utterly dispirited, and it showed in the deep fatigue on his face.

Nandini thought of Priyamvada....and of her own mother. Her blood had boiled when relatives had passed malicious comments on her mother. She couldn't contemplate scenarios in which her mother was in physical danger. She looked at Prithvi again. He had not allowed his mood to hinder his efforts to help the ashram. But she didn't know what he'd done because she'd been upstairs with the other women.

She also didn't know how much time she had spent with them or what she had said. The sole thing she remembered was a fight against tears. The door to Manisha's room had been closed. The other women had appeared disheartened and world-weary. And yet, they had smiled and spoken amiably. One of them had graciously prepared tea for everyone in the ashram. And then Mr Upadhyay had called from downstairs..

Prithvi had gone to get the jeep, and the elderly man's relieved and grateful attitude while referring to the former had been telling. Before she could find out anything, an ear-splitting horn had said Prithvi was waiting. She had said a swift goodbye to the couple and rushed to the gate.

She wanted to tell him about Mrs Bhargava's call. But it would doubtless be wiser to wait for the author's second call and confirm her plan before sharing it with him.

***************************

Prithvi knew the bout of desolation wouldn't persist for long, given that he didn't wholly believe his mother was alive. But until it lasted, he had to steer his thoughts in less debilitating directions.

Wonderfully, the person who could have helped him in that regard was preparing to abscond.

He stared at the road ahead with renewed obstinacy, determined to avoid meeting the worried gaze of his co-passenger.

He didn't know if Nandini had fathomed the reason for his current mood. But he did know that if he so much looked at her, she would take it as permission to discuss his frame of mind. And that would worsen his temper.

He didn't want to think or talk about anything. His life was f***** up. That was the essence of it. She didn't have to join the carnival.

And she evidently shared his outlook on the matter. For all her ardent claims of love, she had easily accepted his offer to drop her home so that she could run off to Vishranti Nagar.

Clenching his jaw unconsciously, Prithvi pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

Nandini playfully poked his upper arm with her index finger.

"What?" he asked absently, his mind plainly elsewhere.

"You're driving too fast," she complained lightly.

"Very observant of you," he retorted indifferently.

Her ugly phone expressed a death wish and rang loudly. She answered it on the first ring and murmured a lot of responses in her typical eager-to-please tone. Then the conversation moved to intriguing territory.

"Can I - can I come tomorrow morning," she was asking nervously. The answer seemed to provide great relief to her. She thanked the other person, pledged that she would call in the evening and at night, and ended the call.

He slowed the jeep and stared at her with a furrow between his brows. The conversation had piqued his interest, but he refused to entertain hope until his doubts were resolved.

"Who was it?" Prithvi asked confusedly.

Nandini examined the buttons on her phone as her heart pranced with childlike joy. It was inhuman of her to feel glad during this sombre time. But she couldn't stop the relief and exhilaration rising within her. Yet, ingrained in that happiness was the same wisp of fear that had crept into her mind yesterday evening, and it stopped her from meeting his gaze.

"Mrs Bhargava," she said softly, fiddling with the phone. "Her husband has been hospitalised. She has to rush to Purvanagar. She asked me if she should send the driver to pick me up today itself or if I want to stay back for today and leave tomorrow morning."

The jeep was manoeuvred to a side and stopped.

Prithvi studied the girl beside him with disbelief. "And you told her you'll go tomorrow."

Hugely conscious of his stunned scrutiny, she shyly mumbled, "Yes."

A smile of pure delight and jubilation lit up his face. The soul-sucking combinations of might-haves and could-haves loosened their grip. His spirits lifted impossibly in a second.

Was this actually happening....

He had castigated himself viciously for heeding his conscience and ruining everything with his own hands. And now the heavens seemed to be telling him that his honesty was being rewarded. He appreciated the gesture. However, they were preaching to a bad student. He was going to stick to the sensible policy of avoiding honesty whenever possible if it would be beneficial.

And although this latest twist truly was an unbelievable stroke of luck, it was her response to the situation that stunned him the most. If he hadn't heard her, he wouldn't have believed it.

"Who the hell are you and where is my pumpkin?" he asked in amazement.

She laughed at the question and stole a look at him in the process. The heart-stopping smile on his face was going to be the death of her some day.

He tenderly observed the fresh crimson on her cheeks and the long, thick plait that lay supinely on her left side. His hands were itching to haul her across the seat to kiss her. And she was afraid that he was going to do it, he realised astutely.

She was shuffling to the outer edge of the seat, and was diligently cleaning the gleaming screen of her phone with the edge of her dupatta. He didn't have to analyse her expression to guess that she was as scared as she was happy.

Prithvi randomly recollected moments that had transpired months ago when their relationship had just begun to take shape. This was exactly how she had looked each time he had sought any form of physical intimacy. Like a frightened doe that was being cornered by a predator. And those fears would have been compounded by the fact that she was in his territory now, he deduced amusedly.

The long separation and serious conflicts had taken a big toll. He would have to repair the damage slowly and carefully. His day had turned around. And if he handled the next few hours correctly, the coming week would turn around too.

"You don't want to stay back?" he asked kindly.

"I do!" Nandini exclaimed, surprised into looking at him appealingly. "But I don't want to stay with - I think it would be best - I want stay in the guesthouse," she finished defensively.

"Okay," Prithvi agreed promptly.

"Really? You don't mind?" she asked, surprised by his tranquil acceptance.

"I do mind, but I want you to be comfortable," he said solemnly, powering the engine. "Would you be alright if you have to stay alone at night?"

"Why would I be alone?" she asked in alarm, thinking of the nice lady who had taken good care of them yesterday.

"The maids prefer not to spend the night in the guesthouse," Prithvi replied ruefully as the jeep trundled down the road at a moderate speed. "The woman who stayed there yesterday took a lot of convincing."

Multiple scary reasons for their aversion instantly mushroomed in Nandini's head. "Why?" she asked uneasily.

"Superstitions and rats," he said evasively. "No worries. I'll ask one of the other maids. She won't refuse if I ask."

The last line deflected her from a surge in panic. "Who are you talking about?"

"One of those females in the kitchen," he answered carelessly as the jeep forayed into a bumpy street. "She makes very good tea. Hot, milky and sweet," he muttered.

She stared at his impassive profile in spiking discomfort. He was talking about a beverage. There was no reason for her to feel he had said something very lewd.

Nandini decided she was being absurd, and light-heartedly said, "I thought you preferred black and sugarless coffee."

"I like that too. It's possible to enjoy two different - things equally," he replied gravely. "Anyways, let's go back to what we were discussing. I'll drop you to the guesthouse. If it's locked, you'll have to wait outside for a bit. I'll go to the main bungalow and send a guard with the keys."

Nandini wasn't aware of the stiffening in her posture. She did know she was annoyed. "I want to go to the bungalow with you and meet everyone," she said coolly. "I'll go back to the guesthouse after that."

He looked at her quizzically. "You've already met my great-uncle and Sumer baba. Who else do you want to see?"

"Choti maa!" she said indignantly. "I want to meet her."

"Bad idea," he declared promptly, "She doesn't know you exist." That was most probably a lie. He hadn't shared anything about this aspect of his life with Kadambari yet, and didn't intend to do so in the future as well. But the servants would have enlightened her yesterday about the visitors. And she was not the type to be content with little information. If any doubts remained, Sumer Singh would have filled in the blanks. Kadambari approached him many times in the morning, Prithvi recalled. She had visibly been bursting to ask several questions but had restrained herself somehow. Those questions were going to be fired at him very soon, he mused wryly.

Shocked by his words, Nandini gaped at him disbelievingly. He hadn't spoken about her to Choti maa. Had her friends been right after all...

"You haven't told her anything about me? Why?" she demanded heatedly.

"The topic never came up," he shrugged nonchalantly. "If she had asked me if there was a hot-tempered wild cat in Shamli who was upset with me, refused to speak to me on the phone and buried my gift in dirt, I would have mentioned you," he consoled.

"If you don't let me see her, I'll bury you too," she snapped, infuriated by now.

"Alright. If you insist," Prithvi sighed, careful to keep his face averted so that she wouldn't see how close he was to laughter. "But I won't introduce you. Don't want to deal with unnecessary questions. You'll have to introduce yourself."

"Fine," she said with angry pride.

"And I think I'll wait outside till you return."

"Do as you please. And don't worry, I'll leave immediately after meeting her," she rejoined curtly, turning her face away to glower at the scenery.

The bungalow had come into view. They had reached.

"You can have tea if you wish. I'll wait," he offered.

"No thanks," she said tartly, glaring at the large gate that was coming closer. "Drink my share and choke on it."

Prithvi permitted the long-suppressed grin to spread on his face. She wasn't going to look at him till they were at the threshold.

The gates were opened by guards. The jeep swept past them and parked at the half open doors of the bungalow. Two men in cream and blue uniforms rushed to them.

Nandini stubbornly hid the panic inside her while she descended from the vehicle. There was nothing she could do about her perspiration-covered face and crumpled dress. She had forgotten to carry a handkerchief, and distracted by anger, she had forgotten to check her appearance in the small mirrors in the vehicle. She could still do it, but he would poke fun at her.

She discreetly examined her plait to verify that stray strands had not escaped and adjusted her dupatta. Then she cast a hesitant look over her shoulder.

Prithvi had disembarked from the other side and was casually issuing orders to get the jeep serviced. Bowed slightly, the guards were respectfully listening to him and nodding energetically.

The scene took her aback. The reality of his background had slipped her mind temporarily...

"Nandini! You're here!"

Her gaze turned back to the entrance on hearing the extremely pleased male voice. A beaming Sumer Singh had opened the doors fully and stepped out. She smiled and walked ahead to touch his feet.

"Baba, could you come here for a minute?"

Nandini spun with a frown. Sumer Singh looked over her head and smiled. Leaving her at the doors, he strode to Prithvi.

Keeping him waiting, Prithvi looked at her. "This one will take you to her," he said, indicating one of the guards. "Choti maa must be in the kitchen. Fall at her feet and come back."

"Are you both going out again?" Sumer Singh asked happily.

"Technically," Prithvi nodded, and then addressed her again. "Don't take too long."

"I won't. And I don't need help. I'll find her myself," she said stiffly, and swivelled to face the doors.

Banking entirely on resentment-fuelled courage, Nandini involuntarily crossed the threshold with her right foot.

**************************************

"She's upset," Sumer Singh observed fretfully.

"I noticed it too," Prithvi concurred innocently, and then grinned at the elder man's exasperated face. He signalled to the guards to disperse, and they obeyed instantly.

"What did you do?" Sumer Singh asked sternly.

"I may have said some things," Prithvi conceded.

Sumer Singh groaned. "My lord, why did you have to – and why did you let her go to meet that wo – your Choti maa by herself?" he asked abruptly, struck by a perturbing afterthought. "You should have accompanied her!"

"You think Choti maa won't be nice to her?" Prithvi asked cannily.

Sumer Singh gruffly said, "She might behave politely, but not nicely."

"Great," Prithvi murmured with satisfaction. The pumpkin would not want to go anywhere until she had broken the ice and won Choti maa's heart.

"Great?" Sumer Singh repeated reproachfully.

"Do you want her to stay with us or in the guesthouse?" Prithvi demanded to know.

"Here... with us, naturally!" Sumer Singh said, vexed.

Prithvi put his hands on Sumer Singh's shoulders. "Then you have to do as I say," he said firmly.

******************************

She was in a large hall with a high ceiling. Its air-conditioned coolness was a major relief from the heat outside. The room was furnished nicely with expensive-looking furniture and its floor was gleaming. There were doors that opened to more rooms. A broad staircase led to the upper floors. She would have taken a minute to appreciate the room's spaciousness and beauty if her heart wasn't somersaulting in tension. Two ladies were dusting the furniture at the other end of the room. They paused and stared at her.

Nandini smiled at them, and received mystified looks in return. She could ask them. But how would she refer to Choti maa. She had easily adopted Prithvi's moniker for the sweet lady and had not thought of learning her real name.

With growing insecurity, she walked looked around the hall. The kitchen had to be on this floor.

She tentatively strolled further into the bungalow. About five meters ahead, there was a large archway in the wall on the right side. Delicious fragrances were wafting to her from that direction. The clinking of vessels could also be heard. But instead of encouraging her, the smells and sounds made her wish she hadn't insisted on this meeting.

This was the woman who had taken care of Prithvi in the early years of his life, and then had waited patiently for more than a decade for him to remember her. She was the mother figure in Prithvi's life.

What if Choti maa hated her on sight...what if she found her unworthy of....

Nandini halted indecisively. She could hear a woman's voice in the vicinity. She slowly traipsed forward until she was standing beneath the arch.

There was a sizable alcove between the archway and the doors to a busy and smoky room in which she could see people chopping vegetables and stirring the contents of large vessels.

In the alcove, a very chubby woman was examining a small scratch on the hand of a little girl and strictly reprimanding her for climbing trees. The former was clad in a pale green saree that was draped in an elegant, official style. Her hair was coiled in a huge bun at the back of her head. A big red bindi dominated her forehead.

This was the person she had come to meet. Nandini felt intuitively certain of it.

It may have been because she had thought of her mother and Priyamvada repeatedly since morning. But something about the lovably rotund lady touched her heart. Feeling inexplicably moved, Nandini watched Kadambari without drawing attention to herself. 

 In spite of the strict dialogues, the overriding impression was not that of a disciplinarian. It was of a mother, plain and simple.

The child was sent off after a last instruction to go to the kitchen and drink mango juice.

Kadambari straightened up and instantaneously beheld the young lady. She stared inquisitively at the beautiful visitor. The clothes were inexpensive and unappealing, and she couldn't see any jewellery apart from cheap earrings. However, the girl was dressed decently. But who was she...

As she was about to put forth the question, the guest smiled and joined her hands. It was such a sweet and infectious smile that Kadambari couldn't help reciprocate.

"May I know who you are? Are you looking for someone?" she asked pleasantly.

Nandini's mind went blank and her cheerfulness dissipated. Prithvi's line of reasoning was valid in hindsight. What could she say? Who was she? Hello, I'm Prithvi's...girlfriend?

"Ammaji, please check the taste of the curry. I think Lajjo put more salt than necessary."

A lady had come to the kitchen's door and was timidly speaking to Choti maa.

Kadambari turned to redress the query.

Taking advantage of the reprieve, Nandini turned and fled. She could see the back portion of the jeep through the entrance. Grateful that it had not been moved, she sprinted to the doors, then slowed with difficulty and stepped out the door with dignity.

The effort went to waste though. While Prithvi was still in the same place, he was occupied with a phone call and gazing elsewhere. Sumer Singh was missing.

Nandini darted towards the jeep and scrambled inside. Drawn by the movement, he glanced in her direction. She smiled vibrantly at him.

Prithvi sized her up adroitly. Contrary to Sumer Singh's fears, she hadn't emerged from the house in an upset condition. That glorious smile said she had goofed up somehow and wanted to bolt.

He smiled back brilliantly. "So how was your meeting with Choti maa?"

"Wonderful!" she said brightly, fingers clamped around her phone. "Could you drop me to the guesthouse now?"

"We can go walking if you wish," he proposed.

"It's very hot," Nandini said quickly. "We'll go for a walk in the evening."

"Okay," he assented soberly and got into the driver's seat. It would be fun to dawdle and drive at a snail's pace. But that would be overkill.

She wriggled in her seat and controlled the desire to ask him to hurry. If Choti maa came in search of her, she would die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he didn't dawdle or ask more questions.

By the time they had exited the gates, however, the full horror of the disastrous meeting started dawning on her. She could have said something! The worst introductions would have been better than running away like an idiot. She had messed it up dreadfully...

In no time, the jeep paused outside the guesthouse's gates.

Still miserably castigating herself for the fiasco, Nandini disembarked absent-mindedly. Then she looked more attentively at the pretty dwelling in which she was going to spend the night. It had seemed more welcoming in the security of Mrs Bhargava's company. The place was isolated currently. Her nearest neighbours were those in the bungalow. And then there were the rats.

Prithvi interestedly monitored the range of emotions on her profile. The pout was on display, proving she was deep in thought... visualising the various dangers that could befall her in the house.

He drew out a plain keychain with three keys from his pocket and extended it.

"House keys," he said to attract her attention. "A maid will come in an hour. And I forgot to tell you. Your luggage was taken to the bungalow because Sumer baba thought you would be staying there. I'll send it back with a guard."

"You're going back right now?" Nandini asked with a squeak in her voice.

"You want me to stay?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. No. I – Could you check the house before you go?" she requested falteringly.

For rats and robbers, he guessed. But he cloaked his amusement and consented dutifully.

She beamed as he got down. Apart from his refusal to introduce her to Choti maa and certain aggravating comments on beverages, he had been amazingly considerate and sensitive after learning that she would be extending her visit by a day. She had rarely seen this side of him. It would be fantastic to experience more of it.

Prithvi opened the gates. As they strolled across the yard, she distrustfully scanned the ground for black, furry moving objects but didn't find any. They stopped at the padlocked entrance to the house. He used the biggest key to undo the lock, pushed open the door, and went in to examine the house, deftly inspecting the hall, and then proceeding to the bedrooms...

But Nandini continued to stand at the door as instinctive fears resurfaced from nowhere. She wanted him near her, but was simultaneously afraid of the proximity. These fears had existed in Shamli, but they'd not felt so...unspeakably real. That was her home. Family and friends were always close at hand. But here...

Last night, she had felt frightened by a mistaken impression that he'd wanted to kiss her. And now they were alone in an empty house.

It was insane how she felt the safest as well as most vulnerable with him, Nandini reflected resignedly while removing her slippers and entering the living room. She halted at the short centre table in front of the sofa. Today's newspaper and two magazines lay on it. She put her phone down and picked up the newspaper to skim through the depressing headlines.

"Everything seems fine."

She swivelled.

Prithvi was standing some feet away, critically studying the corners of the room. Then he looked at her and smiled. "You should be okay. The maid will bring lunch for you. I'll come in the evening and we can go for a walk," he said amiably, walking to the centre table to drop the keys. "Just don't loiter in the kitchen."

"Why? What's in the kitchen?" she asked warily, closing the newspaper.

"Nothing. I'm not certain I saw it," he brushed off.

"Tell me what you saw!" she insisted irately.

He sighed. "Okay, I'll tell you. But don't let it scare you into not wanting to stay," he forewarned. "I think I saw a tail. Attached to the steroid-consuming brother of yesterday's rat. That was fast!" he said admiringly, looking at the girl who had clambered onto the sofa. "And a bit of an overreaction, don't you think? At worst, the poor thing will eat a bit of your flesh."

She wailed and clapped her hands on her ears. "Throw it out!"

"Just what do you think I am," he frowned. "The maid will do it when she arrives. I'm leaving."

"Don't go! Be here till she comes," she implored.

"You're willing to risk getting pawed by me because you're afraid of a rat? Oh wait...am I imagining this?" he brooded. "Are we in one of those porn movies I'd made in my head?"

"You – you did what?" she spluttered, aghast.

"I used to make them every night," he elaborated seriously, striding to the couch and sitting down near her legs, causing her to scamper to one end of the sofa. "They didn't have our classic sparkling dialogues. But they did boast of authentic settings, superb sound effects and very detailed scenes involving you and me," he reminisced fondly.

Nandini went up in flames. With a beet-red and blazing face, she wrathfully yelled, "Out! Get out!"

"Calm down," he said impatiently. "I stopped casting you weeks ago," he assured her, indolently picking up a magazine from the table. He flipped through the pages, pausing on encountering photos of ravishing models.

She stared at him through a garishly red mist. Her mind was in an uproar, fury and chagrin rocketing to blistering levels. Select moments returned to whip up a tempest.

His tepid reception of the news that she would be staying back for another night. His immediate acceptance of her desire to stay in the guesthouse. Arbitrary statements that were perhaps not as harmless as they had sounded...

Nandini advanced a couple of steps and lightly dropped to her knees. She picked up the newspaper that had fallen out of her hands during the jump. She rolled it up tightly, and whacked him forcefully on the shoulder.

He glanced at her irritably. "Have you lost it?"

Looking daggers at him, she hit his shoulder hard thrice in quick succession.

He chucked away the magazine and shifted fluidly on the couch to face her. She lashed out again. He caught her flailing hand and plucked the newspaper out of it. She tried to grab it back with her other hand but he calmly threw aside the rolled paper.

She glared at him.

He leaned sideways and rested the left side of his face on the sofa's headrest, gazing at her with a faint, adorable smile. His grasp on her hand tightened slightly.

The unexpected reaction disconcerted her. But as she continued to look at him, a sweet, delicate warmth slowly began seeping into her, forcing out the anger and tension bit by bit.

With a defeated sigh, she sank comfortably in her seat and placed her cheek on the headrest, watching him with an unconscious fervour.

"I think you've broken my arm," he informed her.

"Not good enough. I wanted to break every bone in your body," she divulged impudently.

"All that practice on my heart didn't pay off?" he asked sympathetically.

The question startled her into sitting up straight again. Then it made her indignant. She was gearing to respond crossly to the unjust charge when he grinned cutely and pulled at her hand, silently coaxing her to draw closer.

She sulkily allowed herself to be tugged. His arms slid around her snugly in a pleasingly intimate and comfortable hold, but stopped short of a full embrace. As she was sitting on her legs, their faces were almost at the same level. She resentfully met his thoughtful gaze.

"You smell different," he commented out of the blue.

Mortified colour stained her skin. She hadn't brought the oil with her, and wasn't in the habit of using perfumes or body sprays - and earnestly regretted it now.

Embarrassed, she mumbled, "I forgot to carry the sandalwood oil that I -

"Don't use it again," he murmured, touching his forehead to hers, their noses brushing. "Your natural scent is sweeter."

Her face grew hot. Blushing, she hid her face in his shoulder, smiling as an exquisite pleasure spiralled within her. All of a sudden, she couldn't bear the thought of being apart from him for even a moment.

"I'll stay in the bungalow tonight," she whispered hesitantly.

"I don't think you should."

Her smile dissolved. She raised her face and met his impassive gaze. "Why?" she asked uncertainly, "I thought you would like it if -"

"I want you near me. But not in the same house. I don't think I'm ready," he confided offhandedly.

"It's only the same house!" she said awkwardly, blushing at her own words.

"Exactly. I don't get any benefits, but I have to put up with all your tantrums," he said testily.

She chuckled at his sour expression, and patted his cheek. "You're trapped. Learn to live with it."

His hands were dislodged and she stood up. "If you need to tell me anything more, you'll find me in the jeep," she told him loftily. And without waiting for a reply, she picked up her phone from the table, strolled to the door, wore her slippers and walked away with her head held high.

He grinned and picked up the keys.

She was wrong. He had done his share of learning. It was her turn.

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