Ajay and the Mumbai Sun by Varsha Shah

Author:Varsha Shah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House
Published: 2022-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

‘I don’t know – only that they’re a lead from the grandmother.’ Briefly he filled her in on what had happened that afternoon.

Yasmin picked up some coral-pink shells to use as paperweights as they laid the envelopes and letters in front of them.

‘This is useless,’ said Ajay after a while, sitting back on his haunches with a frown. ‘Just a bunch of letters from a lawyer saying “Dear Mrs and Mr Shikand, we enclose a cheque as per our client’s monthly agreement with you.” What use is that?’

‘Not so fast.’ Yasmin was looking at them intently. She picked up one of the thickly embossed papers. It had a golden sheen in the light. ‘Look – you’re right. They all say the same thing – except for this one: “Dear Block Surveyors, we enclose a cheque as per our client’s monthly agreement with you.” They must have made a mistake and mixed up two letters.’

‘How does that help us?’ said Ajay, his head beginning to hurt. He took the letter from her and read it. ‘Oh . . . I see.’

Yasmin smiled, and Ajay felt that flush in his cheeks again. She hadn’t looked so happy for a long time. ‘If the lawyers were paying the lady and her grandson for something dodgy, they might be doing the same with the surveyors. After all, surveyors check that buildings are safe. Why would you pay them something in a monthly agreement – not just a one-off payment for a particular job?’

‘But how do we know that it’s related to the factory?’

Yasmin’s smile became an outright grin; her eyes danced. ‘Because I remember the name: “Block Surveyors”. They came to the factory a month ago. Mr Gir asked them to come to do the report for him on whether the factory building was safe or not.’

Ajay scratched his head and remembered back to the conversation between Mr Gir and the man in the baseball cap. What were the exact words that Mr Gir had said? He took out the spiral notebook that he now carried with him everywhere, flicking through the pages of hastily written scrawl: ‘. . . there are cracks in the walls and pillars – the surveyor says that they are dangerous; that we must get them looked at.’

He felt excitement flowing from him like lit fireworks. ‘The surveyor knew that the building was dangerous,’ he said to Yasmin. ‘All we need to do is get them to show us the report and tell us who’s paying them. Then we can write an article about it and everyone will know the truth!’

‘Careful, Ajay,’ Yasmin warned, putting her hand on his arm to draw his attention. ‘It might not be as easy as that.’

‘Of course it will!’ said Ajay, his excitement replaced with a feeling of confusion. He felt conscious of her hand on his arm. ‘They’ll do the right thing. Remember the old woman and the grandson!’

‘Not everyone is like them . . .’ Her voice trailed away.

She looked as

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