Free The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) by Laxmi Hariharan Page B

they? He's saving the country. She's saving herself. All squared up.
    "Mum—" I've been trying to get her attention for the last ten minutes. I follow her to the kitchen as she supervises cook. Back to the living room, where she is getting the furniture rearranged. Then, the groceries she's ordered arrived. Then the caterers. She instructs them on how to lay out the snacks just so. She calls Xavier, sends him off to the wine shop to get more wine. Vodka. And gin too. Bombay Sapphire .
    Finally, she sinks down onto the settee to catch her breath and picks up her phone to check her messages. I sit down next to her.
    "Mum?"
    She stiffens, her body going rigid. She doesn't look up from the phone.  
    "I am really busy just now. Can't we talk later?"
    "M-u-m please."  
    The desperation in my voice gets through to her, and she looks up at me.  
    "Okay. Okay. What is it, Vik?"
    "Vishal—"  
    She pales, looks back at her phone but doesn't play with it. Just stares as if all the answers are there on the screen.  
    "Well?" she asks.
    "Why did you send him away, Ma?"
    "Who's telling you these lies?" She's trying to control herself, but her cheeks redden and she twirls a strand of hair between her fingers, curling it tight, stretching it as if she wants to tear it out. "He's gone to a good school, with a nice hostel. Just like you are now at St James. Just like we sent you away …" Her voice trails off.
    "But I am in Mussoorie, and he is here in Bombay. In the same city as you and Dad. We're his family after all, and isn't this his home too?"
    "You won't understand, Vik. You are just a child."
    Grown-ups! When it suits them I am an adult. When it's convenient I am a child.  
    "I'm fifteen, Ma. I. Am. Not. A. Child, anymore. Besides, I am taller than you now." I will not raise my voice. Will not get upset. So they won't send him to St James, but why can't he stay at home?  
    "It's better for him to be at the hostel."  
    "Is it because he is not your son?"  
    Thud —She slaps me. The skin of her hand is soft. It's just a light brush over my cheek really, not even a real slap. But the surprise rams into me. It's more painful than a boxer's punch. Mum's never hit me before. Never. I've always been her favourite. The one she relied on. She looks as shocked as I feel and covers her mouth with her hand. Then she hugs me. Tight.
    "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean that, Vikky."  
    At least I got through to her. Now maybe she'll tell me what really happened.
    "Why, Ma?" I ask again. I don't hug her back. I just wait to hear what she has to say.
    She pulls back and holds my palms in her smaller ones.  
    "It's easier this way, Vikky. On both of us. Don't you think I don't know it's not his fault? But every time I see him. Every. Single. Time. It hurts. It really does."  
    She's crying a little. Not sobbing or anything. Only her eyes shine with unshed tears. Her life is in her eyes. This is her life. This house. Me. Dad. Seema. Her family. Her world.
    "I can never forgive your father, Vikky. Will never be able to accept him in this house. We can't live under the same roof. If he's here, I'll only make all of us unhappy. Your father. And his son. Both of them."
    His son. She still never refers to him as Vishal.
    "I'm not a saint, Vik. I am just a woman. Do you understand?"
    No, I don't. Not really. Let Vishal stay home. What's the big deal? Pushing him away to a hostel when he has a home of his own in the same city? It doesn't make sense.
    I nod.  
    Why does life have to be so complicated?

FIFTEEN

    I asked Ash out for dinner. Nothing major, just a casual meal to celebrate the end of our grade ten exams. I am about to become a true senior now. As I wait by the gates of school, I look out over the lights of the city in the distance. They twinkle like the floodlights from ships crossing the ocean. The world is out there waiting … and I want to discover it all … Find out what life is like beyond what I see here.  
    There's a light touch