Attachment
It was a sunny Monday morning when Ms Ghosh, having fed and bathed Meena, sat down for a cup of coffee with the morning newspaper. She barely glanced through the front pages and dived into the astrology section. She struggled against the sea breeze as she tried to read the entry against Scorpio
‘Expect a life changing event to happen today. For those born on the 5th, 15th and 27th, you hold your destiny in your hands today. Think carefully before you act’
Ms Ghosh’s heart fluttered with excitement, and apprehension as she read this. She was after all born on the 27th. What life changing event could possibly occur in her staid old life? Another man in her life finally, now what would the late Mr Ghosh have said about this? She giggled to herself at the thought. Besides, she was happy here. The Banerjee’s were good to her. They respected her like an equal and she was always invited to their dinner table when they were home. She almost felt like she had family in them. And then there was little Meena. The apple of her eye! Her job as a resident nanny didn’t even seem like work anymore. She would have happily worked for free just to stay near her beloved Meena. The tiny tot, all of 3 years old had become the centre of her hitherto lonely, barren life.
Her eyes fell upon the classified section as she sipped her coffee. There were markings on it, several of them. She had seen Mr Banerjee working on the newspaper with a pen during breakfast, but had figured it was just another half-hearted attempt at the weekly crossword. She looked closer and felt a sense of unease growing within her. It seemed like Mr Banerjee was looking for a new house, in Delhi of all the places!
No, there must be an explanation for this. Maybe they were just looking to invest in a new house. She had overheard Mr Chatterjee from 1705 talk about it to Mr Banerjee during one of their weekly get-togethers. What had he said, as she struggled hard to recall the exact words? Something about investments and rising rents in Delhi. Yes, that was it she thought with a sense of relief. The Banerjees were buying a new house in Delhi, for investment purposes. But then she remembered last week’s conversation where Mr Ghosh had spoken about the financial troubles they were having. There was no way they had spare money to invest in a house.
Her unease quickly grew into horror as the thought of losing Meena hit her. No, this couldn’t happen to her again. She had lost a child once, she could not bear to lose another one. But what could she do? Yes, she would take Meena and run away to her sister’s place in Darjeeling. The fresh bracing air of the hills would be good for Meena. The Banerjees wouldn’t miss her much. They hardly cared for the child anyway. Always leaving early and staying out late.
Her resolve strengthened as she stood up and quickly began packing things for Meena. Her nappies, the milk bottle and of course, Mr Brown, her beloved teddy bear, they all went into the suitcase. She worked remarkable fast for a woman of her age and had the suitcases ready within the hour. She had telephoned her sister in Darjeeling and informed her about her imminent arrival. That’s when another thought hit her. The Banerjees knew of her sister in Darjeeling. They would surely inform the police who would then come and snatch Meena away from her.
She sat down on the living room couch and wept, holding Meena tight against herself for warmth and comfort. After a few minutes her resolve strengthened as she realized what she had to do. A life changing event after all she mused to herself, even managing a little smile. The Banerjee’s had been good to her but even they didn’t have the right to take Meena away from her. She put Meena back in the crib in her room and picked up a knife from the kitchen and waited there. Silent. Deadly. Murderous.
It was late in the night when the Banerjee’s pulled into the house. Mr Chatterjee from 1705 was there with them. They unlocked the house and entered the living room, deeply engrossed in a conversation.
‘I think I found the right place Chatterjee.’ Mr Banerjee said as he poured a drink for both of them. ‘The house I’ve zeroed in on is right in the heart of Delhi and very close to your office, you’ll love it there. Let me get some ice from the kitchen.’ He said as he opened the doors of death.