irritated, and I said it without thinking. I’ll end up apologising when I see him again.’
Priya looked disappointed. ‘Don’t—that’ll spoil everything,’ she said. ‘Stay away from him a bit so that he gets the message. You’re definitely off him, aren’t you?’
Shweta nodded. Priya was as sharp as a needle, and there was no point trying to hide it from her. Far better that she used her rusty dissembling skills to conceal the fact that she was helplessly attracted to Nikhil.
‘I don’t know what you saw in him in the first place,’ Priya said. ‘You’re smart and you’re good-looking—you can do a lot better for yourself.’
‘Like who?’ Shweta asked dryly. ‘Men aren’t exactly queuing up asking for my hand in marriage. If I decided to hold a swayamvara , I’d probably have to pay people to come.’
Priya shrugged. In her view marriage was vastly overrated—but then, she’d spent the last six years fending off offers of marriage from several men, including her long-term boyfriend. She gave Shweta a considering look. ‘You know what your problem is?’ she asked.
‘I don’t, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,’ Shweta replied.
‘You treat all men like they’re your buddies. So then they treat you like “one of the boys” and everything goes downhill from there. You need to build an aura—some mystique.’ Priya gesticulated madly. ‘Or, if all else fails, some good old-fashioned sex appeal would do the trick.’
Shweta shrugged. She’d long ago come to terms with the fact that, unlike Helen of Troy, whose beauty had launched a thousand ships, hers would only be able to float a paper boat or two. She was good-looking enough—lots of people had told her that—but men regularly bypassed her to fall for less good-looking but sexier girls. Not that it had ever bothered her much. Until meeting Nikhil again she hadn’t felt the pull of strong sexual attraction. She’d just assumed it was something that people had made up to sell romantic novels and movies.
‘I’ve booked us into the spa for a massage and a steam bath,’ Priya said after a while. ‘I forgot to tell you.’
Shweta shook her head. ‘Take one of the other girls instead,’ she said. ‘I’m going for a swim.’
* * *
It was almost six when they got back to the hotel, and the pool was thankfully deserted. Everyone who’d managed to get a spa booking was headed there, and the rest were in the bar at the other end of the property. Shweta ran up to her room to change into her swimsuit, and was back at the pool in a few minutes.
The water was perfect, warm and welcoming, and she automatically felt herself relax as she got in. She did the first few laps at a brisk pace, working off the day’s confusion and angst as she cleaved through the water. After a while, however, she flipped over, floating aimlessly on her back as she looked up at the sky. The sun was about to set, and the sky was a mass of lovely red-gold and purple clouds. Looking at it, she felt her troubles seep away.
A muted splash told her that someone else had joined her in the water, but she didn’t turn to see who it was. Only when the sun set fully and the sky faded to a dull steel-grey did she swim to the side of the pool.
‘You’ll shrivel up like a prune if you stay in the water any longer,’ Nikhil remarked.
A sixth sense had already told her who her silent companion was, and she didn’t turn her head to look at him. ‘Stalker,’ she said in amiable tones. She felt in her element while she was in the pool, and more than equal to dealing with her old classmate.
He was by her side in a few swift strokes. ‘What did you say?’ he asked, playfully threatening her with a ducking.
‘You don’t even like swimming,’ she said. ‘You told me yesterday.’
‘Depends who I’m swimming with.’ The lights around the pool had come on, and his eyes skimmed over her appreciatively. ‘Looking pretty good, Ms Mathur.’
She was
Learning to Kill: Stories