Free A Scandalous Secret by Jaishree Misra

Papa?’
    â€˜Gone to the golf club,’ came her reply. ‘But he said I was to hold on to you till he got back.’
    â€˜Oh, I can’t if he’s going to get too late, Mama. Sharat’s leaving for Lucknow and I should see him off. And I have to send some things his mother’s asked for too.’
    â€˜She’s always asking for “some things”, isn’t she?’ Mrs Chaturvedi said drily. There was no mistaking the sarcasm now. Neha’s mother and mother-in-law had never seen eye-to-eye, a situation caused partially by the disparity in their social standing. Neha’s mother had always considered herself far more sophisticated than Sharat’s, despite the fact that the latter had a great deal more money and lived in a Lucknow mansion that was five times the size of her home. Luckily such tensions had never affected Neha’s own relationship with Sharat’s parents which, except for the odd hiccup, had remained close and warm. ‘What is it that she wants this time?’ her mother pressed.
    â€˜Oh, just a couple of sets of jewellery that she left with Tribhovandas for polishing last time she was here,’ Neha replied.
    â€˜Hmmm,’ her mother said with a distant expression on her face, and Neha knew she was now thinking of all the jewellery that Sharat’s mother still hadn’t passed on to her. It was her mother’s oft-expressed belief that Sharat’s mother had grown too old to wear heavy jewellery. ‘Women above a certain age should stick to a nice pair of solitaires and a delicate pearl string for the neck,’ she sometimes said, shuddering at the massive old ranihaars and pendants that Sharat’s mother often wore to family weddings. Furthermore, it was her firm opinion that the keys to the locker that housed the famed antique collection of the Lucknow Chaturvedis should now be rightfully handed to the family’s only daughter-in-law, which of course was Neha. For herpart, Neha had always resisted this notion, not merely because she had plenty of jewellery already – both her own as well as pieces bought for her by Sharat over the years – but also because she considered it extremely unbecoming to squabble over things as inconsequential as keys to bank lockers. Neha, who was far more interested in contemporary art, preferred to spend her money on paintings and artefacts to furnish her elegant home with, rather than squandering it away on jewellery she hardly ever wore. She decided to change the subject quickly before her mother embarked on the habitual harangue.
    â€˜Our party went off very well,’ Neha remarked, realizing that her mother had forgotten all about it, even though she had mentioned it a few times in the past few weeks.
    â€˜Oh yes. You had your party. Who came?’
    â€˜Well, the usual crowd mostly. One starts running out of different people to call in a place like Delhi! But the Home Minister was there this time. And spoke very positively to Sharat about his chances of getting a seat in the next election.’
    â€˜Achcha? Where will it be, his seat?’ her mother exclaimed, her face finally losing its dissatisfied expression. Neha smiled. Perhaps Sharat’s political prospects would finally provide common ground between her parents and in-laws! She tried to imagine all of them together in a campaigning vehicle before hastily dismissing the thought.
    â€˜Well, Sharat’s hoping for one of the South Delhi constituencies, naturally. But everyone wants those and they don’t usually get given to political novices. At this stage, he’ll take what he gets.’
    â€˜That is very wise,’ her mother said, adding grudgingly, ‘Luckily, however unsophisticated his mother may be, she has somehow brought up a most sensible boy.’
    Neha did not have to think up a response to that as the tea service made a timely arrival, brought out by Bahadur, who had worked with her