The girl looks at me startled and I run to the toilet and dry retch. I come out and find Minni standing next to the chair I was sitting on. She’s raises the nail polish I had chosen and points at it—

‘I know, I know, it makes me look darker,’ I say before Minni can get a word in, ‘I just felt like it.’

Minni opens and then shuts her mouth like a goldfish and sighs dramatically.

‘Arre baba, it’s your choice, why should I say anything? But what happened? Ritu here—,’ Minni points to the girl who was doing my pedicure, ‘—says you vomited? Is everything all right?’

I am touched by Minni’s concern, all the more because I was expecting a lecture from her.

‘I think I might have caught some sort of a stomach infection,’ I explain. ‘It’s been making me quite nauseous of late. While it usually gets me in the mornings perhaps the nail polish smell was too strong and set it off as well.’

Minni raises her eyebrows.

‘Aha, so you’ve been puking in the mornings have you?’ she asks and looks at the women around her suggestively.

Suddenly all the women start smiling or chortling and nodding at each other like someone just narrated a dirty joke. Before I can ask what that joke might be, Minni steps forward and hugs me, much to my surprise.

‘It’s not any tummy-shummy infaction Polly. You are pregnant!’ Minni declares, beaming at me.

I feel as if someone’s just punched me in the gut—I can’t be pregnant.

‘No Minni, I am not pregnant,’ I say.

I try not to sound too brusque but the whole Bollywood-type wink-wink-nudge-nudge thing the women are doing in the parlour is getting on my nerves.

‘Have you checked?’ Minni asks, looking rather smug.

‘No I haven’t but I think I would—’ I try to say.

‘Trust you me Polly. You are pregnant. I have record. All women come here single and go back double,’ Minni declares triumphantly, ‘No wonder you are glowing.’

I am glowing? I don’t argue with Minni further because there’s never any point in it. Even if she’s wrong she wins any argument. I pay for my treatments and leave. I decide to have a quick stop at McDonald’s before heading home. I still want those French fries—and perhaps I’ll pick up a home pregnancy test as well.

The fries are good—not the healthiest of food choices—but I really wanted that salty taste. I savour the fries one at a time and read the instructions on the home pregnancy test. Even though I’m pretty certain I’m not pregnant—I would surely have felt something—I’ll do it to remove all doubts. But first I’ll finish the fries, they are so tasty.