Mistress by Anita Nair Read Free Book Online Page B

hands that held Sethu’s wrist were strong and capable. The doctor wore horn-rimmed glasses. He radiated a presence that made Sethu want to turn himself over to him and say: Look after me. I need your protection.
    ‘Can you tell me which year we are in?’ the doctor asked in Tamil, his accent more neutral than the woman’s.
    ‘1937. It is 1937, isn’t it?’
    The doctor nodded. He allowed his mouth to soften into a smile and asked, ‘Do you remember what happened?’
    Sethu licked his lips. They felt dry and crusty; salty, too.
    ‘No,’ Sethu said. ‘No, I don’t remember.’
    Sethu wasn’t lying. He didn’t want to remember.
    ‘And what is your name?’
    ‘My name,’ Sethu hesitated, groping for a name that was familiar and yet wouldn’t give him away, and he thought of what the American missionary in Colombo had called him, ‘is Seth.’
    ‘Yes,’ Sethu said in English. This would tell the doctor that he was an educated man. A man of means. ‘My name is Seth. I used to work with the health department in Ceylon.’
    Seth. It was an unusual name for an Indian. But it was a common Christian name and one that Dr Samuel recognized. And so Dr Samuel’s eyes widened. Was this the miracle he had been waiting for? A Christian health worker!
    ‘Pleased to meet you, Seth. Is there an address you’d like to give me? Your family must be worried. We must inform them about your whereabouts. What about your employers?’
    Seth closed his eyes. Home? ‘No,’ he said. ‘I am an orphan. And I quit my job some months ago. There is no one waiting for me …’
    ‘Don’t say that, Seth,’ Dr Samuel said quietly, patting Sethu’s arm. ‘For those who have none, there is God. Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Ruth 1.16.’
    Nurse Hope nodded approvingly.
    ‘Give him the Bible, Sister. Let God be with you as you recover,
Seth. Don’t forsake the good book and it won’t forsake you. God’s word will guide you where your heart doesn’t. It will be as is said in 1 Kings 9.7: A proverb and a byword.’
    Sethu swallowed. How long could he keep up this pretence?
    As he lay there, he wondered what it was about him that drew these types. These men who wished to take him by the hand and lead him down what they considered the chosen path. First Maash, then Balu, and now Dr Samuel. Why did he allow it to happen? He felt a great weariness settle over him and it seemed so much easier to sleep rather than think.
    When Sethu woke, the Bible was at his bedside and two beaming Nurses Hope. Sethu blinked.
    ‘This is my sister, Charity,’ Nurse Hope said. ‘She is training to be a nurse. I have one more sister. Faith. She’s a nurse, too.’
    She straightened Sethu’s bedclothes, rearranged the medicines and then stuck a thermometer into the mouth of a man in the next bed.
    ‘Two days and you’ll be out of here,’ Nurse Hope said suddenly.
    ‘I’ve brought you the Bible,’ Nurse Charity said shyly. He shifted and turned his head away. Her gaze unnerved him. Why does she look at me like she’s never seen a man before, Sethu thought, feeling the weight of the Bible in his hands. On the flyleaf, printed in copperplate, was her name: Charity Vimala Jeyaraj. ‘You shouldn’t have,’ Sethu said.
    ‘Oh, I can share Akka’s Bible. Anyway, this is the only English Bible apart from Dr Samuel’s.’
    Sethu thought of what the man in the next bed had said earlier. ‘I wish the kondai sisters would pay me some attention. All three of them were here while you were asleep, hovering around you all the time, while I lay wide awake groaning for a bedpan.’
    ‘Who?’ Sethu had asked.
    ‘The kondai sisters …who else?’
    Sethu smiled. The ‘bun sisters’. ‘Is that what they are called?’
    ‘The whole town refers to them as the kondai sisters. Periya kondai, chinna kondai and jadai kondai. Their hair buns are the only way to tell them