Possibilities

His head was buzzing very familiarly and he woke up with a great thirst. His tongue felt all furry and twisted up in his tonsils and larynx. Opening his eyes was a disaster, which had to be managed. The usual bottle of water was not where it usually was, so getting to the bathroom was a necessity. The dark bathroom was a relief to the eyes he thought as he groped for the faucet on the sink and cupped his hands beneath the steady rush of water that emanated from it.

Fresh and cold water in his belly was like a reviving agent. He blearily brushed his teeth, taking his time over it, a habit from his childhood encouraged by a healthy fear of dentists. The eyes were bloodshot, though the cheeks looked cheerfully hollow and the jaw line was definite, took a long time to get all that puppy fat off it he thought with satisfaction. He ran a hand over his shaven head and scratched his stubbly French beard. He decided to skip shaving as it was a Sunday and emerging from his bathroom, he headed straight for his gym downstairs. Nothing like working out a drinking binge and sweating out the alcohol in his system.

Working on his free weights and later while running on the treadmill, he thought he heard noises but then the music system was on high as always during his workout. As he wound up his exercises, he heard the clatter of crockery, very definitely this time. He coolly wiped off his sweat as he alerted his security and went in search of the noise and the noisemakers. After all, his penthouse was on the top floor of the fifth floor and his security people were trained to deal with emergencies in any case. Maybe, it was just his imagination, as the place was empty.

There was definitely a smell of burning in the air as more sounds came, as far as he could make out, from the kitchen. As he went in through the main hall, he could identify the smell as well….it was coffee. Badly burnt, as smells go. Not something his brother would do, if he was back, he thought but then his brother was in the states on a vacation with his family.

On reaching the kitchen, he could also make out someone singing under his or her breath and turning through the door warily, he was surprised to see the back of a slight creature, with shoulder length black hair, wearing one of his dressing gowns. There was a saucepan full of coffee burning up on the gas burner but the person was seemingly unaware of it as he or she rummaged in the wall fitted fridge.

He quietly switched off the burner and asked, “Need anything?”

The person did not react or even look around, “Don’t you have anything besides fruit juice and coffee and carrot and celery sticks?”

He was amused and replied, “No, not really, I usually diet.”

This time, the person turned around and looked at him with a rather large grin. It was a girl, woman, he corrected himself. High cheekbones and a grin larger than her face, his first thought was that she needed feeding up.

“Good, then get some eggs, milk and bread, I need breakfast.” The grin was infectious.

“I don’t eat bread or drink milk.” He replied

“I do and if you cannot cook, don’t worry, I can.” There was a definite challenge in her eyes, but the grin was still on the face and it seemed sincere. The dressing gown was a present from his brother but he never wore it. As he assessed the woman wearing it, it looked good on her and by the look of it, she was not carrying anything concealed under it. He went to the wall phone and reached security and told them to ignore the alert and get some bread, eggs and milk and then turned back.

“Ever tried making coffee?”

“I made some, but its not smelling like it should.”

“That’s because it is not instant coffee, not something to be boiled and burnt.” This time, he grinned back at the girl/woman. The poor creature looked mortified and the blush was rather fetching. He picked up the saucepan full of the evil smelling concoction and emptied into the sink, took out the coffee jar and measured three heaped spoonfuls into the percolator in the corner of the brunch bar in the kitchen and added water. He also poured out two glasses of orange juice and handed one to the girl/woman. She had hopped onto one of the stools lining the brunch bar and was watching him with rather large eyes and faint grin as she sipped from the glass.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They both sipped the juice in companionable silence till the percolator chimed to say that it was ready to pour. The waft of the coffee was like a smell of heaven as compared to the smell preceding it. He gestured for her to keep on sitting as he rose to get two coffee mugs and poured coffee into them.

“Sugar?”

“Yes please, two spoons.” Her voice had the faint singsong catch of the convent school educated girls of his childhood.

“Sorry, the milk is on its way, you’ll have to have it black now.”

“No problem.” The grin was back as she mimicked his manner of speaking.

The coffee felt good going down as the sweat had dried and chilled his body. Time for some questions, he thought.

“So, what are you doing here? Who are you?”

The girl took her time answering as she sipped her coffee and looked at him. The stare was unaffected but it was sort of questioning and he was a bit uncomfortable with it. He knew he had shed the fat that had clung to him all his life and though he was no body builder material, he knew that he was in good shape for a guy in his thirties. However, the feeling of being obese and silly looking had still not left him and this steady gaze was a bit uncomfortable, as if she was seeing him when he was fat. Silly and idiotic, he knew, but it was there.

“Hmmm, feel like answering anytime soon?” he gently asked her as the doorbell rang simultaneously.

It was his security guy looking a bit silly as he tried to waggle his eyebrows in a very significant looking way. He had his right hand inside his tracksuit jacket, clearly holding on to his gun and the other hand was gripping the groceries in a brown paper bag. Taking the groceries, he grinned at the guy and winked. The security guy visibly relaxed and smiled back.

Back in the kitchen, he started taking out the groceries and again gestured to her to keep on sitting. Quietly and efficiently he made four poached eggs and toasted the bread on an old toaster of his mom, god bless her departed soul and her huge store of kitchen appliances, cutlery and crockery. Half his house was stuffed with kitchen appliances, cooking utensils and similar accessories.

He set out the eggs and toast on some plates, which he rinsed first, boiled the milk and made some fresh coffee. Setting the food on the table, he helped himself to two eggs and a fresh mug of coffee,

“Dig in. Sorry, I don’t have any butter. Fat free house, you see.”

“My name is Radha.”

“Okay, rads, dig in.”

Radha grinned at this mutilation of her name and started eating. She ate like a hungry sparrow, daintily and with relish.

“Why do you call me rads?”

“Old habit, got it in college, shortened everyone’s names. Sorry, did not mean to offend.” he replied indistinctly, with his mouth full.

“I am not offended. I like it. Nice habit.” She grinned back again, with a mouth full of food also.

That grin was really infectious. Anyway, his mind churned with possibilities. Entrapment or sexual molestation was out of the question if she was a plant. He was a lawyer in another life, still kept up with his old friends in the Bar, so rape was also out of the question, as she would have screamed it much before. His work was political and social but this was India and not the west and his private life was more or less clean. The only thing that could trouble him was if this girl, woman he reminded himself was a runaway from her family.

“So, how old are you? What are you studying?” he asked

She grinned again and replied, “Thanks for the compliment, but I finished my studies quite some time ago. I am actually a doctor.”

He mentally gave a sigh and smiled back weakly as he fished for his cigarettes in his tracksuit pockets. He lit one, his first of the day.

“You can call me dabz, I guess.” He tried tentatively

She finished eating and took the plates to the sink and picked up his pack of cigarettes and lit one.

“Yeah, I know who you are. You were in Illusions last night and got into a fight because someone was troubling me. I tried to break it up, you stormed out and I was almost dragged along. You assumed I was with you and you drove back home at such speed, I was almost stuck dumb. When we got here, you passed out on your bed and I slept in one of the other bedrooms. You have a nice place here.”

The speech came out flatly and as if rehearsed and he was too good a lawyer not to spot a fabricated piece of explanation but he kept a poker face as he remembered nothing much of last night.

“Sorry about whatever happened. I should have been more responsible and hospitable.” He said.

“Nothing to be sorry about, you were being very chivalrous and old fashioned. I should be the one saying thanks.”

It was his turn to blush and grin.

“Where do you work? Any specialization?”

“Thinking of running a background check on me, just in case? I work in Dispur Polyclinic, as a pediatrician, that’s child specialization to you.” This time the grin was a bit forced and the eyes glinted a bit. They really were rather big eyes, nice eyelashes too.

He grinned back at her and the eyes softened a bit.

“Can I borrow some clothes, I don’t think an evening dress is fit to go home in. A tracksuit or sweat shirts and shirts would be fine. I can return them back here at the gate later.”

“I hope you can float? Because you are going to swim in my clothes.” He grinned and asked as he went to the sink to wash the plates.

“Okay, pass on a belt as well then. I am going for a shower.” She called out as she walked out of the kitchen

***





Possibility A

She looked liked a fresh young student in his oversized college sweatshirt and his spare tracksuit lowers with the cuffs rolled up and as he drove her back to her apartment, she folded her legs in that peculiar double jointed fashion that only the female sex could seem to be able to do. The entire picture was so breathtaking and attractive that it was all he could do to keep his eyes on the road and not on her softly curling black hair that fell around her face and framing those huge eyes.

As he dropped her off her apartment, on a sudden impulse he asked, “Any chance of you returning the favour with my clothes?”

He got an uplifted eyebrow, which seemed encouraging, so he went for broke, “I mean I cooked breakfast, any chance of getting a dinner. I am about done with the hotels in the town.”

He got a grin and a searching look, “Flat No. 302, Eight p.m. okay? I have to be on morning shift tomorrow.”

She looked around at the children hanging on her words and caught sight of her husband leaning on the edge of the doorway looking at her with a familiar fond expression. The grandchildren were arraigned around the kitchen and the twins were sitting on brunch bar. The softly curling black hair had turned white but the eyes were still full of laughter and glints as she looked back at him with that old look that she had given him when he had asked for his return favour and said,

“And he has since then been cribbing that his breakfast was better than my dinner. So you lot can now judge who was the better cook, right?”

***

Possibility B

As he washed the dishes in the sink, he started whistling. It had been a long time since he felt as happy as this. He was almost done with the plates and mugs as he set them on the steel rack above the sink to dry off when he heard a soft whisper behind him. He turned and barely registered the ice-cold shock of the viciously swung knife reaching his heart in an expert and much rehearsed move.

He looked down at the hilt of his kitchen knife as it protruded from beneath his ribs and looked at the now still and cold eyes and the face which did not sport any grins now as suddenly the darkness loomed and he could not see any more

She removed all traces of her presence in the apartment and wiped down all the surfaces that she might have touched. Finally when she was satisfied, she took a shower and dressed in a pair of his old tracksuit lowers with the cuffs rolled up and one of his old college sweatshirts. She opened the bathroom windows and climbed down the drainpipe from the back of the penthouse, the same way as she had come up.

As she climbed into her car, she switched on the music system and mused that the guy had been quite a nice sort. She might have almost been interested in him and things might have proceeded quite far. After all, he did cook a good breakfast, but then it had been a job and opportunities were scarce. The woman started the car and drove off.

***