“No, I have a car here to take me to the hotel. Why don’t you drop Anya home?” Murthy said.

“What hotel? I thought you were staying with Sukanya,” Sivarajan said.

“No, I checked into Hotel Park Sheraton.”

Sivarajan pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. The others climbed into Sivarajan’s large van. Murthy stood at the curb and waved as they pulled away. “I’ll call you tomorrow before I leave,” he said. Sukanya turned from the back seat and looked at Murthy. He had stepped off the curb to cross the road.

“Siva, stop. I have to tell him something,” Sukanya said.

Sivarajan stopped the van with a screech of tires. Murthy turned back and waved from the other side of the road. Sukanya scrambled out of the van and ran across the road. “Murthy, it’s only… Murthy, it’s only 10,000 rupees. After all.” Murthy was silent. Sukanya held her handbag, her fingers trembled on the clasp. It seemed futile to give him the gift now. He needed more than a framed picture of his daughter. “Where are you going? Where’s your car?” she asked.   

“I sent it back to the hotel. I’m taking a walk to the beach, Anya. That’s one thing I miss in Bangalore,” he said.

“Shall I- shall I come with you?” Sukanya swayed slightly towards him, her voice caressing the memories of after-dinner drives to the beach and long walks on the still-warm sand.

“No, you go home and take care of Nalini,” he said. He nodded and said again, “Yes, you take care of Nalini, Anya.”   

*

Sivarajan broke the silence in the van after a few minutes. “Sukanya, I’m sorry. I had no idea he would check into the most expensive hotel in the city.”

“We thought he would stay with you,” Malathi said.

“I’ll meet him tomorrow and pay him for dinner. You know I will, don’t you?” Sivarajan said.

“Maybe even pay him for the room if he will take the money,” Malathi said.

“Listen to you people talk,” Sukanya said. “Why so morose? Murthy knows it was a joke. Come on, you know if the tables were turned he would’ve played the same prank on you. Business opportunities come and go. No one knows it better than Murthy.”

The van stopped in front of Sukanya’s house. “I’ll see you to the door.” Sivarajan opened his door.

“No, no, that’s alright. It’s not even midnight. I can see myself in,” Sukanya said. But he walked up and opened the gate for her. She went in, closed the gate and waved to them. The van did not start. She turned around and walked up the stairs. Behind her she heard the van pull away. She knew her mother would not be waiting up for her, the assumption that Sukanya was safe with Murthy would have lulled her into deep sleep. Even now her mother thought that Murthy would look after Sukanya.