‘What “whole Allah thing”?’ Gehna lost the plot. ‘You and your friends think you’re so damn liberal and shit when all you really want is for everyone to be just like you. That’s not even bigotry, that’s fascism! You’re a fascist. And stop embarrassing my friend. Even if he was a bearded Quran-thumper, he’d still be about a hundred times nicer than you. Frankly, I wish we had a couple of fundamentalists here right now because I can think of some infidel heads that deserve to be lop—’

‘Gehna,’ her father’s voice cracked like a whip. ‘That’s enough.’

After that, the fighting became general. Accusations and past grievances flew like darts through the air. Eram tried to make himself as small as possible so as to not attract attention. He also eyed the trifle pudding, which looked like it might have chopped nuts in it. I hope it’s walnuts. Walnuts make everything better.

‘Why can’t the two of you get along for the space of just one meal?’ Ajay asked.

‘Because your daughter is a rude, spoiled brat, that’s why,’ Nina Rai said.

‘Oh, yeah? Well, you’re a big, fat hypocrite,’ Gehna said. ‘And I’m pregnant.’

The dessert tray fell from Nina Rai’s hands and crashed to the floor. Shards of glass punctuated the custard and jelly to make a striking picture against the backdrop of the Italian marble.

Eram noted, with more than passing regret, that there had, in fact, been walnuts in the pudding.

From: Gehna <[email protected]>

To: Eram

Date: Fri, 11 May 2019, 00:05

Subject: Thank you . . .

. . . said nobody ever at the end of a date. Well done, mister. You’ve created history. Aside from having created history though, can I just say that it was not the best possible move you could’ve made? I mean, who does that? Who drops an adorable girl like me home and then, instead of ravishing her, politely thanks her for a fun evening? You didn’t even try to kiss me! I would have been outraged if you had, of course. Possibly administered a sharp slap or two in a bid to prove I wasn’t easy. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have tried at least.

I could just as easily have called, but I find letters so much more civilized, don’t you? Like, if you call someone and they don’t want to speak to you, then they can’t very well just cut the call. I mean, they could, but that would be extremely rude. With email you can just pretend that you never got the other person’s message, like it got lost on the Internet or whatever, and that way nobody’s feelings get hurt.

You should’ve seen the look on your face when I snatched the bill at Mocha. Sorry about that. I once knew a creepy bastard who believed . . . I’m not making this up . . . he actually believed that if he paid for dinner or whatever, then the girl he was with owed him something in return. I get so mad, honestly. Ever since then I fight like a cat for the bill. Don’t take it personally, okay?

You’re quite a good conversationalist. More and more, as I grow older, I find that I appreciate that in a man. Most of you just sit there making fish faces and hope that this will somehow lead to me taking my clothes off. You on the other hand don’t seem very interested in sex. It’s a refreshing change. Stoppit immediately, ha ha ha!

And since we’re being polite, thank you. For being there with me tonight. I will now take my thoroughly un-kissed self off to bed.

G

PS: I’ve decided to keep the kid for now.