The Midnight Rose Read Online Free Page A

table and write a short letter to accompany the time and date of my son’s death. I also pull out his tattered death certificate from my bedside drawer. Tomorrow, I will ask Keva to put them in an envelope and address it to the solicitor who is charged with handling my affairs once I pass over. I will ask him to telephone me so I can give him instructions as to whom to send the envelope when I die.
    Closing my eyes, I wish for sleep to come now, for I suddenly feel desperately alone here on earth. I realize that I’ve been waiting for this moment. Now my son has left me, it is finally my turn to follow him . . .
    •  •  •
    Three days later, at the usual time in the morning, Keva knocked on her mistress’s door. Getting no initial response was normal; Madam Chavan often dozed late into the morning these days. Keva busied herself with the housekeeping for another half an hour. She returned to knock again, eliciting further silence from inside the room. Now, this was unusual, so Keva opened the door quietly and found that her mistress was still fast asleep. It was only after she had opened the curtains, chatting to her about nothing, as was her habit, that she realized Madam Chavan was not responding.
    •  •  •
    Ari’s cell rang as he was driving in the chaotic Mumbai traffic. Seeing it was his father, to whom he hadn’t spoken in weeks, he pressed the button on his phone to take the call on speaker.
    “Papa!” he said brightly. “How are you?”
    “Hello, Ari, I am well, but . . .”
    Ari could hear the somber note in his father’s voice.
    “Yes?” he asked. “What is it?”
    “It is your great-grandmother Anahita. I’m sorry to tell you that she died in the early hours of this morning.”
    “Oh, Papa. I’m very sad to hear that.”
    “We all are. She was a wonderful woman and will be greatly missed.”
    “Yes. At least she lived a long life,” Ari said in a consoling tone as he steered around a taxi that had drawn to a sudden halt right in front of him.
    “She did. We’re holding the funeral in four days’ time, to allow the family to gather for it. Your brother and sister are attending and everyone will be there. Including you, I hope,” Vivek added.
    “Do you mean this Friday?” inquired Ari, his heart sinking.
    “Yes, at midday. She’ll be cremated at the ghaat in Darjeeling with family in attendance. We’ll arrange a memorial service for her later, as there are many people who’ll wish to attend and celebrate her life.”
    “Papa,” Ari groaned, “really, Friday’s impossible for me. I have a prospective client flying over from the States to talk to me about my taking over his software contract. It would take the company from loss to profit overnight. With the best will in the world, I can’t be in Darjeeling on Friday.”
    There was silence on the other end of the line. “Ari,” his father said eventually, “even I know there are moments when business must take second place to one’s family. Your mother would never forgive you, especially as Anahita made it obvious at her birthday celebrations last year that you were special to her.”
    “I’m sorry, Papa,” Ari said firmly, “but there’s simply nothing I can do.”
    “And that is your final word?”
    “That is my final word.”
    Ari heard the sound of the receiver at the other end slamming down.
    •  •  •
    Ari was in a euphoric mood when he arrived home the following Friday night. The meeting with the Americans had gone so well that they’d shaken on the deal then and there. He was taking Bambi out tonight to celebrate and had popped home to his apartment to shower and change first. He picked up a letter from his pigeonhole in the lobby and took the elevator to the sixteenth floor. Inside his apartment, he tore open the envelope as he walked into his bedroom and read the contents of it.
    Khan & Chauhan Solicitors
    Chowrasta Square
    Darjeeling
    West Bengal
    India
    2 March 2001
    Dear Sir,
    On