Nights of Roshan by Billy London Read Free Book Online Page A

if that’s what you’re asking. My mother is from Bangladesh and my father is Iranian. They’re both tigers. My father has an insane amount of shares in several oil companies, so we have a little bit of money. I was living in Qatar and had been meditating quietly in the family temple just off the Sundarban mangrove forest when I heard you.” If he closed his eyes, he could see the river, drifting past verdant trees, and the lyrical voice of Neiriouri, beckoning him to protect her… He took a sip of his drink, finding his train of thought once more. “I speak Bengali, Farsi, Arabic, tiger grunts and I’m getting to learn all your little sounds.”
    She grinned. “Thank you. Isn’t it weird? Waking up one day with paws and hands the next?”
    “Never known anything different for it to be anything less than completely normal. I admit, it’s not like my father was around much to help me understand any… erm, unusual developments. But he’s more of a loner than I am. Didn’t see him for years at a time growing up. My mother did all the rearing. And she’s more invested in my fertility than I suspect yours is.”
    “You realise how… Freudian that sounds?”
    Roshan shrugged. “Well, we have inbreeding issues.”
    She made a face of disgust. “Eww. Is that why you’re a white tiger? Inbreeding?”
    “No, no, no! Luck would have it my father sniffed out the gene in my mother. He wanted a cub with white fur and got one. Then buggered off to make more somewhere else, I suppose.”
    Neiri blinked at him. “That’s it? That’s the sum of your parents’ relationship?”
    He shrugged. “Pretty much. What about you?”
    “Oh, arranged marriage.” His head snapped up. “Oh no, my parents, not me. Although they did have a hand in introducing me to my ex.”
    “Are they disappointed their plans didn’t meet fruition?”
    “Hmm. But it’s my fault, really. I didn’t do the appropriately wifely thing and submit.” He knew what she meant, but immediately he had the stark impression of Neiri on her knees. “My dad hasn’t really spoken to me since I told my parents I was getting divorced. It’s not like we were that close. My mother and brothers came to London before I was born. I’m the only proper Londoner out of the five of us. Dad stayed in Egypt to work.” She sent him a sad little smile. “I understand. Even though every month my dad offered to kill my ex-husband, I knew it was to make up for not being around. But I didn’t want him to turn around and say he had to clean up my mess.”
    “Then what would he make of me?”
    Neiri reared up from the tray of prawns. “Are you planning on introducing yourself?”
    “I’m planning on being around for a while,” he said, edging around the question.
    “How long is a while?”
    “Long enough. Well?”
    She perched a hand on her hip. “I suppose you’d be all right with him for a number of reasons. You’re apparently a good Arab boy, as far as appearances go, you’re successful and you don’t seem to be put off by the fact that I’m a ruined woman.”
    Roshan’s eyebrows furled. “He can’t think that.”
    She shoved the tray of prawns into the oven. “Believe me, that’s the PG version of what I’ve been told I am.” She added a tray of tartlets and falafel. “Doesn’t matter.”
    “Would he be more amenable if you gave him grandchildren? They are a good distraction.”
    Neiri whipped around, eyes as round as coins. “I keep telling you, I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”
    “And I keep telling you, you can. You’re not listening.”
    “I thought you were a loner,” she said, sounding increasingly desperate. “Loners don’t want little needy things around.”
    Roshan simply took another sip of his water. “You’re always alone until you meet the right person.”
    “Oh.” She tucked her hands behind her back. “Oh. That’s a lovely thing to say.” He saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes and got to his