EP: Thank you for your patience, Mrs. De Lannerolle. I don’t know how much you’ve been told about our circumstances today, but it would be of great help if you could—

JDL: Answer a few questions, my dear, yes, I was made aware by a few of the other guests who went through this same process. You are trying to get to the bottom of what happened to Kaavindi, am I right? Well, no surprise there. That girl came and went as she pleased. No regard at all about what inconvenience she would put her family through. This is hardly a surprise for me, I’m afraid. I knew this wedding was doomed from the start.

EP: Before we begin, Mrs. De Lannerolle, would you mind please stating your full name and address for our records.

JDL: My name is Josephina De Lannerolle and I reside at Apartment 3/4, Queen’s Court Residencies, Colombo 03.

I have been a close friend of Nihal and Fiona Fonseka for many years now. Fiona’s elder sister, she now lives in the UK, and I were classmates at St. Bridget’s Convent, so you can say that I’ve always been a friend of the family. I attended their wedding, I believe that was in ’91 or ’92. I was personally invited by Fiona’s parents. I was to be a bridesmaid, but they had a cousin flying down from London just for the wedding, so it was only right that they offer that position to her.

I have known Kaavindi ever since she was a little girl. Now, I know it’s not proper for me to say this, of course, but it must be said—Nihal and Fiona, well, Nihal mostly, spoiled that child rotten. She only had to look at a toy and her father would move mountains to get it for her. I remember how she had said she wanted a pony for her eighth birthday, and Nihal got one down all the way from Nuwara Eliya. When she cried about it leaving back to the hill country to be kept in a stable there, he kept it in their garden for an entire week until he made arrangements with the stables at the Colombo Hilton so they would house the pony and Kaavindi could visit it once a week for riding lessons. She lost interest in ponies, as expected, but Nihal never seemed to mind.

So it’s no wonder, really, that when Kaavindi decided she wanted something, Nihal would always support her. He even sent her to America, can you believe it?

“What’s wrong with London?” I asked him. After all, both my sons went to university there, and are doing very well now. One is a barrister, you know, and the other works at Christie’s. He just bought himself the latest Jaguar. I couldn’t be more proud. They wanted to come down for the wedding, but unfortunately, they couldn’t make the time. My eldest’s wife is insisting they tour Italy over the summer, you see, and he can’t stay away from his work for so long. I told him to take no-pay and just come, you know, it’s not like he needs the money, but he’s diligent and loyal to his company, just like I’ve taught him to be.

So yes, Nihal sent her to university in America, and paid for her apartments and cars and shopping while she traipsed around doing god knows what. You know, I’m not at all surprised that something terrible befell her. Now, you mustn’t get me wrong. I don’t have anything against the girl, you know. I like her. I have always wished her well. But my daughter-in-law showed me once, on this, er, the YouTube, I think it is called? Yes, the YouTube. She showed me a video of Kaavindi acting, well, I wouldn’t say inappropriately, I suppose. Just that I would never allow my own daughter to ever appear that way. I mean, it’s just not done, is it? Such a cheap thing for a young woman to do. To act like she was some celebrity or actress, speaking in a false accent, begging others to watch more of her videos. I shudder to even think about it.

Of course, Nihal was proud of his daughter. Encouraged this behavior. You know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if some crazy man saw her on the YouTube and became obsessed with her. I was concerned that at least Fiona didn’t put a stop to this shameless behavior, but then I’ve heard that even though she paints a picture of a perfect mother, the eldest two girls used to call their nanny “Amma” until they were six.

So actually, I don’t know what I was thinking when I told Nihal what I found out. I should have known that he would just brush me aside and call it nonsense. He can accuse me of anything he wants; I know that I acted out of the goodness of my heart.

When I found out about Spencer, I could have told anyone, you hear? I could have told my good friends the Hewages. You know they own the competing gem business in Colombo, don’t you? And that would have been enough to bring the whole Fonseka family to their knees. They would have never been able to live down the shame.

EP: Did you discuss it with anyone else?

JDL: Not at all, you hear? I’m nothing if not a woman of honor. I did ring up my daughter-in-law to get her advice, of course—she and Kaavindi moved in the same circles, at least back when she lived in Sri Lanka, and I thought she might be able to give me some guidance. She said to me “Amma”—you know, she’s so well brought up that she called me “Amma” from the moment my son proposed—“you must speak to Uncle Nihal at once.”

So that is what I did. I spoke to Nihal directly. I wasn’t quite sure if he even knew about this news. It was entirely possible that he did. I told him I was worried for him.

EP: Could you please describe what it was you found out?

JDL: I didn’t take it very seriously at first, of course. But the documents did have an air of authenticity about them, so it struck me as genuine.

The documents were about Spencer’s, well, his background, I would say. I have promised Nihal I would not speak about it, but since I’m being questioned now, I am not afraid to say.

It provided quite a lot of details about Spencer’s parents. He had led us to believe that both his parents had died when he was a child, leaving him an orphan, of course, but with a tidy sum of money. That’s how he was able to finance his various start-ups, Fiona had said.

But this report painted a very different picture. His father, it said, was very much alive, and in prison. Can you even believe it? He had played out quite a number of people for a bit of a sum, it seemed. His most recent conviction was five years ago, although he had been in and out of prison since Spencer was a child.

And his mother, this is the bit that broke my heart. His mother was an addict, who, according to the report, hardly cared for her child. Can you believe that mothers like that even exist? She, too, appeared to be very much alive, although what kind of life could she possibly be living? It seems that Spencer left home when he was sixteen and hasn’t seen her since.

Now, I’m not judging Spencer, of course. The poor boy can’t be blamed for the mistakes his parents made. But you never know, do you? They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He could be harboring some, you know, something in his genes that turns him this way. I feel sorry for him, of course I do. It was never my intention to upset any applecarts.

But if it were me, I would never have allowed my child to marry someone from a family like that. What if his father got wind of Nihal’s fortune and came after it? What if Spencer turns to drugs later in life? It’s in his blood, you know? It’s not my fault. I just thought Nihal would like to know.

So I rang him up the next morning and told him what I had found out. I wanted to advise him. To speak some sense into him.

Ha, that’s the last time I play Good Samaritan. You know what he told me? He told me to keep my nose out of their business and to stop being a gossip.

A gossip. Me? Can you even believe it?

I said to him, I said: “My dear, I’m just looking out for your family like you should be doing.”

And since he seemed so unbothered by the type of person he was inviting into his family, I thought it my duty to inform Fiona as well. Because I knew, from the bottom of my heart, that she would not agree with his decision. All I was doing was looking out for my friend.

And you know what Fiona did? You won’t even believe it. You know she threatened me? Said I should keep my mouth shut or I would get what’s coming to me. Hmph. Like the Fonsekas could even touch me. You know, my second cousin is married to the minister of finance. Fiona has forgotten who I am. You know, I even asked my good friend Rajini to go over there that morning. Asked to keep an eye out, you know, in case Nihal or Fiona start bad-mouthing me. Thank goodness they seemed to have come to their good senses and did nothing of the sort, or I’d see to it that they are taken care of.

EP: Taken care of in what way, Mrs. De Lannerolle?

JDL: Oh. Oh no. I didn’t mean like that. If I harbored any ill will toward the Fonsekas, then why would I even have come to the wedding? I wanted them to know that I had nothing to be ashamed of. All I did was be a concerned well-wisher and friend.

But you know, come to think of it, maybe it was someone from Spencer’s side who decided to hurt Kaavi? You never know, do you? I thought it would take a few more years for Kaavindi to face the repercussions of her father’s negligence, but it looks like I’m wrong, and she’s already had to pay the price.

EP: One last thing, Mrs. De Lannerolle. How did you manage to come about this confidential information?

JDL: Oh—I had some documents posted to me anonymously. I don’t know what they hoped to achieve by doing so. They probably thought to reach out to me because I was an upstanding citizen in Colombo society.