You People by Nikita Lalwani
Author:Nikita Lalwani [Lalwani, Nikita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780241987087
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2020-04-02T00:00:00+00:00
Nia
The words in the letters kept on visiting her as she performed her chores that day. Shan ⦠to think of him was to feel the prick of tears, and blink them away each time. She avoided the kitchen for as long as she could, and when she finally went in, forced by the need for oil and balsamic as the first customers began to arrive, she avoided looking at him. It was a bit dehumanizing, but poor fucking bastard is all she could think.
She was waiting for her moment all afternoon, to get to a point when everyone had gone, where she could ask Tuli some questions. But she couldnât reveal that she had been snooping around like that, of course. She still had the juddering heart, kept having conversations with him in her head, an argy-bargy in her brain where she was imagining what she might say, what he might say. It came back to the same question as always â what did he actually do when it came to all these people, where did his money come from, how did it work, was there anyone he wouldnât help?
Then, as if he could read her mind, he came to find her at the end of her shift. He put a CD on, smiling at the cover, as if at a private joke. It was music that made you think of the opening titles of an epic film â a marching, semi-triumphant sound that announced its own demise even as it celebrated it.
âLeonid Kogan playing Laloâs Spanish Symphony,â he said. âOne of Avaâs friends brought it in.â
Nia nodded. He knew that this was all new for her, she didnât know much about classical music. A sweet, twisting violin began to pierce the space around the main thrust of the orchestra, gradually making itself known, supple and strong.
âWant to go for a drive?â he said, standing and looking out of the windows at the back. The glass was spotting with rain again and there was something sublime in how the red and yellow lights outside were permeating each individual bubble of water with colour.
âSure,â she said, as the violin turned to yearning, and then frivolity. She undid her apron with a flourish, like a waitress in some arthouse film. âLetâs go!â
She couldnât work out why he wanted to keep her close. Did he really want her company? Or was he trying to figure her out â was he uncertain about her in some way? She hoped for the former, but couldnât quite believe it. Still, she wanted to go with him. It wasnât just that she fantasized about confronting him in some way, it was more that in the nights since they had been to the skip, she had lain awake, thinking about that trip, turning it over, in all of its uncertainty, wondering if it would happen again. Now here it actually was â unforeseen and slightly unimaginable â the chance to be with him without anyone else.
They were in his car, and he was strapping on the seat belt when his phone rang.
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