She danced on winged feet through the flat and down the stairs, her buoyant mood fading only when she got to the heavy, barred door that led into the shop. How was she going to brazen this out?
Her heart thudded down to her boots at the stony expression greeting her from behind the counter.
“What time do you call this?”
It was eight forty-five. Jas bit her lip.
“I’m sorry. I overslept.”
“Overslept? I’ve been knocking at that door since six this morning. You didn’t stay there last night, did you?”
Jas shrugged, pretending to rearrange some cereal packets on a shelf.
“Well? And where did you go last night? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
She turned to face him, startled by the vehemence of his tone.
“Have you? I was fine, Krish. Just bumped into an old friend, that’s all. Went out for a meal then on to a club.”
The lies fell glibly from her tongue. Why am I lying to him? Why don’t I tell him I’m seeing Ajay Amir? He’s going to find out eventually.
“Old friend? What old friend?”
“Just a girl from school.”
“Come over here.”
Jas left the cereal boxes and walked slowly towards the counter.
“Why are you walking like that?” Krishnan wanted to know.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re in pain?”
“I strained a muscle dancing.”
“Right.” Krishnan’s disbelief couldn’t have been more evident. “I hope you were careful, Jas.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Now, I’ve got a delivery from the wholesalers out the back. Put the frozen stuff away before it defrosts, yeah?”
Jasmine wasn’t much help to Krishnan in the shop that day. At intervals, she found herself staring into space, a multipack of crisps clutched to her bosom. She miscounted customers’ change eight times and spent forty minutes creating a display of Ajay Amir DVDs on a corner of the counter.
“Go and whip up a batch of mango lassi.” Krishnan chased her into the small kitchenette at the back of the shop, apparently finally driven to distraction by her useless performance. “You’re no good to me out here today.”
As she frothed together the cream, milk, yogurt, mango purée and sugar, Krishnan’s mobile phone bleeped.
“Hi…yeah… Yeah, it was good… That would be nice… Yeah, she turned up in the shop this morning, won’t tell me where she spent the night… I know, I know… Thanks, darling… Perhaps, yeah… I’ll call you, okay? Bye.”
“Who are you discussing me with?” demanded Jas, poking her head around the shop door.
“David Cameron,” he said. “What? You want the truth, do you? Yeah, I know the feeling.”
“Who’s this ‘darling’ person? I can’t believe you’d call David Cameron darling, unless there’s something you’re both hiding from the world.”
“Maybe I went out last night too. Maybe I went out with a girl.”