‘Stop! I have told you—you don’t need to thank me.’
Yet every time she did.
‘Yes, I do. I was neither a good mother nor a good grandmother. You have given me a chance of redemption, and I appreciate that with all my heart.’
‘We’ve been through this, Nanni; the past is the past and we’re only looking forward.’
Her grandmother’s marriage had been deeply unhappy—her husband had been an autocrat who had controlled every aspect of his family’s life with an iron hand. When Sunita’s mother had fallen pregnant by a British man who’d had no intent of standing by her, her father had insisted she be disowned.
Sunita could almost hear her mother’s voice now: ‘Suni, sweetheart, never, ever marry a man who can control you.’
It was advice Sunita intended to take one step further—she had no plans to marry anyone, ever. Her father’s marriage had been a misery of incompatibility, bitterness and blame—an imbroglio she’d been pitchforked into to live a Cinderella-like existence full of thoughtless, uncaring relations.
‘Please, Nanni. You are a wonderful grandmother and great-grandmother and Amil adores you. Now, I have a favour to ask. Would you mind looking after Amil for the rest of the evening?’
‘So you can see your friend again?’
‘Yes.’
‘The friend you didn’t introduce?’
Sunita opened her mouth and closed it again.
Her grandmother shook her head. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
‘I will tell you, Nanni—but after dinner, if that’s OK.’
‘You will tell me whenever you are ready. Whatever it is, this time I will be there for you.’
An hour later, with Amil fed and his bag packed, Sunita gave her grandmother a hug. She watched as the driver she’d insisted on providing manoeuvred the car into the stream of traffic, waved, and then made her way back upstairs... To find the now familiar breadth of Frederick on the doorstep, a jacket hooked over his shoulder.
‘Come in. Let’s talk.’
He followed her inside and closed the door, draping his dark grey jacket over the back of a chair. ‘Actually, I thought we could talk somewhere else. I’ve booked a table at Zeus.’
Located in one of Mumbai’s most luxurious hotels, Zeus was the city’s hottest restaurant, graced by celebrities and anyone who wanted to see and be seen.
Foreboding crept along her skin, every instinct on full alert. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’
‘Because I am taking the mother of my child out for dinner so we can discuss the future.’
Sunita stared at him as the surreal situation deepened into impossibility. ‘If you and I go out for dinner it will galvanise a whole load of press interest.’
‘That is the point. We are going public. I will not keep Amil a secret, or make him unofficial business.’
She blinked as her brain crashed and tried to change gear. ‘But we haven’t discussed this at all.’
This was going way too fast, and events were threatening to spiral out of control. Her control.
‘I don’t think we should go public until we’ve worked out the practical implications—until we have a plan.’
‘Not possible. People are already wondering where I am. Especially my chief advisor. People may have spotted us at the café, and April Fotherington will be wondering if my presence in Mumbai is connected to you. I want the truth to come out on my terms, not hers, or those of whichever reporter makes it their business to “expose” the story. I want this to break in a positive way.’
Sunita eyed him, part of her impressed by the sheer strength and absolute assurance he projected, another part wary of the fact he seemed to have taken control of the situation without so much as a by-your-leave.
‘I’m not sure that’s possible. Think about the scandal—your people won’t like this.’ And they wouldn’t like her, a supermodel with a dubious past. ‘Are you sure this is the best way to introduce Amil’s existence to your people??
?