Cat & Fiddle by Lesley Jorgensen

Author:Lesley Jorgensen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000
Publisher: Scribe Publications Pty Ltd
Published: 2013-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

Things were going very well, Mrs Begum thought, as she chatted to this so-friendly Richard. Still single, just like Prince Charles’ youngest boy, and she’d never believed for a minute that an eldest son would refuse his inheritance, especially something so important as Bourne Abbey, so famous that the government was helping to pay to fix it, paying her husband to supervise, it was of such greatness. Was he planning, now that all that hard work was done, to take it back from his brother and his wife and the two little boys, so lively, though not so handsome as Tariq at that age? Perhaps he was planning a marriage and wanted the Abbey so that he could pass it on to his own children?

But it didn’t matter, she thought, patting his hand as he spoke. He had enough money even if he didn’t take the Abbey as well, and so interested in her family, even asking if Tariq was married, which of course was halfway to asking about her daughters’ status. No sense of humour, but his wife could give him that. Tall thin men were well balanced by short-and-round. He would do well for Rohimun. A good match for outside the community. No one could turn their noses up at that. And then Dr Choudhury would be forced to bring her back into the bosom of the family.

How to do this? Mrs Guri’s matchmaking skills would be of no help here. Richard now knew that Tariq had two sisters, she had made sure of that, but how to introduce them when Shunduri was sulking in London and Rohimun was still forbidden to Windsor Cottage? Richard and Rohimun were so close to each other right now, but so far. The photos, she would show the photos to him. He was a man: all men lived through their eyes. That would be enough to start something.

She put her hand out, arresting his next question to her, something about bindis. ‘Not Choudhury, dear Richard. We do not change our names on marriage like Christians do. That is my husband, Dr Choudhury. Begum. I am Mrs Begum.’ She patted his hand. ‘You must come to us at Windsor Cottage, Richard. And I will feed you. You are too thin with your London living.’

He looked pleased, if still solemn, and accepted for next weekend.

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