A Convenient Marriage by Jeevani Charika

Author:Jeevani Charika
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781912973187
Publisher: Hera
Published: 2019-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chaya – Colombo, 2005

Chaya stood still, her arms held away from her sides as the dressmaker made changes to her wedding blouse. The final fitting was taking place in a back bedroom in the dressmaker’s house. Through the open window sunlight and the noise from the road filtered in. There was no fan and Chaya could feel the sweat starting to bead on her back. She hoped she would be allowed out of the sari blouse before it stained.\ Things had moved fast since she and Gimhana discussed their future in the pub.

In the months leading up to the wedding, Amma and Malini had been on the phone more and more often. Thatha, through his contacts in the hotel industry, had secured a venue at relatively short notice. Chaya had assumed that the hotels would offer a standard package, but it turned out that there were a hundred small decisions to be made – menus, decorations, invitations, flowers, corsages, wedding cakes. Mostly, she relied on Malini’s good taste.

In the meantime, the success of her grant application meant that work was going well, but she was even busier than before. She had returned to Sri Lanka at the start of November, leaving Trish and the PhD student with detailed instructions of what to do while she was away. She would be back well before the new members of her expanding lab started work in January. Gimhana was flying in next week, in good time for the wedding the week after. ‘There,’ said the dressmaker, in Singhalese. ‘You can look in the mirror now, see if you like it.’

Chaya’s eyes flicked to Amma, whose expression said everything was satisfactory. Chaya nodded and made her way to the full-length mirror that was fixed to the side of a wardrobe.

‘Oh, wait a moment,’ said the dressmaker. ‘Shall we drape the sari on to see what it looks like?’

‘Yes,’ said Amma, fanning herself with a magazine. ‘That’s a good idea.’\ The dressmaker picked up the silk sari and unfolded it as though she was afraid it would dissolve. She draped the fabric loosely round Chaya’s waist, setting the pleats deftly between her fingers. Chaya was suddenly reminded of Gimhana. What would Amma say if she knew? She turned her head away to hide her smile.

‘There,’ said the dressmaker, throwing the fabric over Chaya’s shoulder. She gently turned Chaya round to face the mirror.

The sari was mostly ivory, with a profusion of tiny gold flowers, each with a sequin in the centre, embroidered along the bottom. A scattering of sequins further up made Chaya sparkle when she moved. The blouse, made of the same material, came down as far as her lower rib, leaving a strip of brown midriff peeping out in the midst of the ivory.

‘Beautiful, no?’ said the dressmaker.

Amma came over and stood next to her. ‘My beautiful Duwa,’ she said. ‘Still so thin.’ She reached over and touched Chaya’s collarbone where it strained against her skin. ‘You never did recover from that bout of laryngitis,’ she said sadly.

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