short story

Yummy!

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It would be a bit much to say they are friends. But they are very fond of each other and meet up as often as they can which is about twice a year. They both care deeply for young people and support each other’s work. One is a dedicated mother of five. Keeps a beautiful house and garden. Cooks the best food. Sews gorgeous clothes and looks amazing. The second woman has one child who stopped living a few years ago. She doesn’t care much about her house or garden. Can’t use a sewing machine. Doesn’t pay much attention to her appearance.

The second woman appreciates the first one’s invitation to lunch. They sit at the dining table on top of which appear five large aromatic dishes straight from the oven – roasties, grilled carrots and broccoli, kale chips and baked salmon marinated in exotic spices.

As they settle down with their plates, the first woman starts “My Anne has been challenging since she was little. When she was six and we lived in South America, she got it in her head that she wanted to make a cloth tent. We went to the shops and she chose the materials in the green colour she likes. I put it together the best I could and then she wanted buttons and ribbons to go on it and I did all of that. When the tent was ready, I put it up in the living room before she returned from school with great anticipation. She took one look at it and declared “I no like.” She kicked it. It went lopsided and she went up the stairs to her room.”

“My Mike is dreadfully over-confident. He can charm anyone into telling him their secrets. He can make anyone laugh ….. And my Noel! He’s a big architect in Leeds and I love his girl-friend. She is so down-to-Earth. I am so glad they found each other …. And when they asked me what I wanted for my birthday …. And when we all went on a holiday ….. And when they got engaged …. And my Lisa! She is such a good designer. She comes up with original patterns for her tops and I stitch them for her. She carries her dresses like a model …. And my youngest… Oh! He’s full of ….”

The second woman places her attention on the delicious meal. She has no invitation to speak.

No caller ID.

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Soon after lunch one Saturday, my phone went. “No Caller ID”.

‘I am James Eames from the New World Building Society’s fraud investigation team. There have been some suspicious dealings with your debit card recently. So, I am calling to ask if you’ve given your card details to anyone lately?’ spoke a smooth cultured voice.’

“Hi. Let me think. On Monday I had an e-mail from DVLA saying I needed to update my card details to pay the road tax in time. So, I did.”

‘Right. So, that’s how they’ve got you. But, don’t worry. I have been doing this job for the last 17 years and I get to work every day, including sometimes a Saturday morning just so I can help people.’

“A bit like me then. For years I worked at least 2 weekends every month.”

‘So, I am just going to send you a text message with a code, just to verify your identity. When you get that could you read out your code to me?’

“Yes. Sure.”

‘So, I see that you have recently made a few purchases from Argos.’

“No. I have not.”

‘Ah. It must be them. We are liaising with the police to get to the computers they are using and that’ll help us catch them. So, don’t worry. This is very helpful. Could you read out the code to me?’

“Yes. It is ——.” I feel so stupid. How could I trust a random e-mail like that? I checked the site and it looked so proper – just like a government website.”

“They are very clever. You must check the sender’s e-mail address by pressing reply. You should also look out for e-mails claiming to be from DPD and Royal Mail.”

‘Gosh. It must be hard for you to keep ahead of the game with this kind of fraud, especially nowadays when everyone is banking on-line. It’s just a battle of wits. Isn’t it? And they are so smart. These youngsters.’

“Yes. We must stay sharp and we have very good security systems in place. So, that helps. I see that you move money regularly to Tina. When was the last time you did that?”

‘About 3 months back.’

“Can you trust her?”

‘Yes. Completely. She’s been a friend for 10 years.’

“Saagar?”

‘Yes. He passed away a few years ago.’

“Oh. So sorry! It seems these guys have set up a standing order in Tina’s name for 2000 pounds.”

‘Can’t you stop them?’

“Yes. We are working on that. In the meantime, can you ask your friend Tina if she has received the money? We might need to close your account and set up a new one for you.”

‘I’ll try.’ I go downstairs to get the handset of the landline and call her.

“Hi Tina. So sorry to bother you. Do you have a few minutes to speak? My bank is on the phone with me trying to sort out some stuff I need your help with.”

She confirms that she has got 2K from me. I am relieved as I know she will help me sort this out.

“Dr Mahajan, do you have a card reader?”

‘Yes.’

“Okay. If you get that and put your card in, I will give you a number to enter. Remember not to speak out your pin aloud please.”

‘Why do I need to do this?’

“To make sure that your card still works for you. If you put your friend Tina on the phone with me, I shall guide her on how to transfer the money back to you.”

Text from Tina – I just got 8,000 from you! Something is wrong. I am worried.

‘Tina says she has got 8,000 from me. I don’t even have that much money in my account. How are they doing this?’

“They might have moved money around from your savings etc. Don’t worry. Put her on the phone with me and I’ll take care of it. I have 17 years of experience in this kind of thing.”

I give Tina’s phone number to James.

I text her: James is trying to help us. He’ll call you soon. Please talk to him. Thank you!

She replies: Send me a picture of your card and I’ll transfer the money.

I do that.

James calls back, “Has she moved the money?”

‘She’s doing it. Please wait. There is no need to rush her.’

“Can you really trust her?”

‘Implicitly. She is highly talented and very hard working. She doesn’t need to cheat anyone.’ I say.

“I found her to be quite difficult. I am trying to help but she is being obstructive.”

‘Well, she has every reason to not fully trust you. You’ve only spoken with her for a few minutes. I have been speaking with you for nearly an hour now. So, it’s easier for me than for her to place her trust in you.”

“That’s right. I didn’t think of that. I can learn a few things from you. Are you doing something nice this weekend?”

‘Gosh! This is so nerve-wracking! Thank God I have a singing lesson in a little while. That’ll help calm me down. Thereafter I might watch a film on Netflix. Do you have a recommendation?’

“Yes. ‘The invisible Guest’ is in Spanish and it’s excellent.”

‘Ok. Thanks. I can recommend ‘Malcolm and Maria’ for you. It’s different. Intriguing. When do you finish work?’

“7.30 pm. I’ll probably get a pizza and watch the football.”

‘Great. Have fun when you get there. What happens now?’

“Can you check if Tina has moved the money?”

‘I don’t want to be so pushy. Let me send her a text.’

Any luck? I ask her.

She replies: I am on the phone with my bank. Nearly there.

Thanks Tina.

“Shall I log into my account and see if the money has come back?”

‘No. We are working on it. So, you won’t be able to access it now.’

“Okay. I am really tired now. Can we please finish this call? I am sure she will move the money back to me.”

‘I am tired too. Shouldn’t take long now.’

Text from Tina: That guy called you was fraud because when you just put your card in your card reader, just then was transferred money. 8000. He give me other account numbers. But I move money to what you give me.

“How do I know that you are calling from New World?”

‘Can you read the name of the sender of the texts?’

“Yes. They are from New World.”

‘That is your proof. That cannot be faked.’

More codes arrived, the card reader was used a couple more times. Finally, James was happy. He said it was all sorted. Gave me a reference code and signed off.

Later on when Si came home, I told him all about it and we looked at those text messages from New World. Each of them said –

“Never share this code with anyone. Only a fraudster would ask for it.”

I held my head in both my palms and broke into a sweat.

Once my breath returned, we phoned the fraud squad at New World and they told me that all the money that had been transferred out had been moved back into my account. A few purchases were attempted which did not get through:

JD Sports.

Fancy shoes.

Pizza.

(PS: Based on true events)

The Office Guy

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Once upon a time, trains in London used to be stuffed with people. Every now and then one found one’s head in some random person’s armpit. That Friday evening, my train was not too full.  Every other seat was taken and a few people stood by the door.

He boarded at London Bridge and sat opposite me. We sat facing each other at either end of the long rectangular window, looking out at the dusk, in the typical way Londoners show consideration and give space to one another. I was on my way home after work. The skies were moody. I was glad to be released from the hospital after a long windowless day.

As my gaze shifted from the sunset outside the window to the seat across from me, I saw the young office guy with his neat brown hair, parted on the left side. Crisp white shirt and well-pressed grey trousers. Tense jawline. Fixed steely eyes staring through glass panes. Two vertical frown lines just above the bridge of his nose on a smooth white forehead. He looked sharp, a tense energy encompassed him like a taut canvas. It was palpable. He was, as if a statue with serious internal whirings.

The train was on the move now. My station was six stops away. I had noticed something I couldn’t ignore.

I wasn’t sure if I should do something. If yes, what?

If I did nothing would I regret it? Yes.

Could I fully trust my instinct? I wasn’t sure but probably.

Did it matter if I made a fool of myself by saying something? No.

He could get off the train at any moment so I had to make up my mind pretty quick.

Two stops had now gone by and he was still there. This was my chance. I leant in, my head closer to his, caught his gaze in mine and softly said – ‘Whatever it is, it will pass. I promise. It will.’

I went back to admiring the sunset as if nothing happened.

I didn’t look for a response in anyone. Nothing.

I left it there, feeling like a crazy old woman on the train who talks to strangers, my heart beating in my ears.

One stop later, from the corner of my eye I saw him get up to leave. I brought my eyes back into the coach and chanced looking at him as he stood by the doors. He met my gaze and gave me an acknowledging nod, his frown lines gone. I could have cried. I think I smiled and nodded back.

I was finally learning to trust myself to do the right thing.

Men like dahlias.

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Without fail, he abandoned her the moment they entered the residence of the hosts of any drinks party they ever attended.

They had lived in the village for two years. Here everyone knew everyone. In the summer of 1976 Jane and Christian attended one such party. As soon as they got there, Christian was off, having a drink and a laugh with his friends. She could hear them raising a toast at the other corner of the large garden. Jane found herself standing near the hedge, admiring the flower beds and talking to her local GP, Dr Hamilton and the vicar. It was 7 pm and the garden was bursting with colours. “I do love these glorious dahlias” said Jane gazing down at the voluptuous crimson beauties. She looked up to find a shocked expression on the faces of both the men in her company. Had she said something awful? She worried.

The vicar looked at his feet, his left eyebrow still lifted in an arch. The doctor glanced sideways awkwardly, pretending he had heard nothing. ‘Only men like dahlias’ murmured the vicar. Jane turned red. There was so much she did not know. She quickly changed the topic to the nearby white roses, hoping they were safer. Uncontroversial.

The next day Jane had an appointment with Dr Hamilton. She said, “The Tamoxifen is terrible. I can’t fit into my shoes or get a full night’s sleep. Food makes me sick and I am impossible to be around. Don’t know how anyone puts up with me. My husband must be a saint.”

‘Yes. It can be quite de-feminizing” empathised Dr Hamilton.

“It was only a small tumour and they got all of it out. That was two and a half years ago.” Jane reminded him.

‘Okay. If the side effects are so bad for you, maybe we should stop it’ he thought aloud.

“That would be wonderful. And … it might make me stop liking dahlias.”

Things people say.

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Dr Indu was broken inside out. She felt like a big black boulder and could barely hold her weight. After all these years of marching on alone and doing the ‘right’ things, this was her reward. Most of her friends had no clue what to say or do. After a few days it was clear that many of them could only stand by her for a week or 10 days max. This is when Indu remembered a passing acquaintance, Ruhi, a girl who wore long flouncy colourful skirts and big dangling ear-rings made of feathers and other dreamy things. She thought of her as a girl even though Ruhi had silvery grey hair and was seven years older than her.

Indu wanted to see Ruhi again. She didn’t know why but it had to be done. Indu posted her an invitation and as back-up, sent her a text with details.

The clear bright day was trying to cover-up the immensity of this death. Ruhi came in a flowing black dress with multiple strings of black wooden beads in various lengths cascading down, from her slender neck to her shapely waist. The ends of her long black sleeves opening-up like flowers to reveal her delicate hands. Not only did she have a pink lip-gloss on but also a serene smile. On this tearful day, she smiled on as if that was the most natural thing to do. No defiance or disrespect. A subtle involuntary smile, puzzling and misplaced.

She walked up to Indu and held both her hands in hers for a few frozen moments. She went on to open her arms and enclose Indu in them like a baby. “One day you’ll be grateful for this”, she whispered in her ear. By now Indu was used to hearing non-sense like “be brave”, “you’re so strong”, “such is life” and so on. She had learnt to ignore a lot. It took too much out of her to do anything more than that. “You have no idea what this is like” she thought to herself, feeling like a duplicate of herself amongst all these people. She drew back from Ruhi and looked into her dark brown eyes through her tearful ones. “Believe me. You will” Ruhi said softly.

Seven years have passed. Now Indu is as old as Ruhi was then.

And she remembers her horror at what Ruhi had whispered in her ear that day. The chains are falling off. Her vision is clearing. She notices more, within and without. She wants to live the truth. Be it. She knows it now. It’s all a ‘seeming’. All of this. It’s so clever. It fools us into believing it’s real. She has felt the presence of the divine in her broken heart. The blessings of a few fleeting golden moments of absolute grace have left her charmed with life and thirsty for more.

Indu and Ruhi meet up at the café that plays Bossa Nova jazz all day. They catch-up over large mugs of cappucino, sing and dance and take long walks together. They laugh and cry with abandon. Both wear pink lip-gloss and without knowing, they smile. Light as dust.