Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) đ
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Book online «Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) đ». Author Singh, Nalini
When the two officers stepped aside to confer with another colleague, I said, âWhy did she scream that night, Dad?â
The question lay between us, dark and taunting.
âKnow your place, boy,â he finally spit out before heading to the sedan.
The keys were still in the ignition and he started the engine while giving me a challenging look through the windscreen. When I didnât run to heel as he expected, he backed up the vehicle and did a U-Âturn to return to the Cul-Âde-ÂSac.
Such a pretentious name. As if there were only one Cul-Âde-ÂSac in the world, nestled in this isolated and green tributary of Auckland. The name also conjures up images of street parties and block barbeques, when these days, the Cul-Âde-ÂSac is a frosty place where opinions are hidden beneath a gauzy layer of politeness, and neighbors keep to themselves.
In my mind, it all changed that night. As if my motherâs disappearance took the life out of the Cul-Âde-ÂSac.
I was still standing there staring at the forest long after the sound of the sedanâs engine had faded, my mind on the wall of rain that night, the sound of it hushed thunder across the world. It was her scream that had woken me, piercing the veil to jerk me to Âheart-Âpounding alertness. I hadnât been sure exactly what Iâd heard, my pulse a drum in my ears as I waited for more.
Iâd almost convinced myself Iâd imagined it, until I heard the bang of the front door.
Once. Twice.
Scrambling out of bed, Iâd run to the sliding doors that led to my private balcony. But the door had stuck as it always did when it rained. By the time Iâd stepped out naked into the chilling rain, needles of water stabbing my skin, the Jaguarâs distinctive taillights were already fading into the Ârain-Âblurred distance.
Transcript
Session #1
âHow does this work? Do you ask about my parents, my childhood?â
âIs that what you want to talk about?â
[no answer]
âThis space is a safe one for you. Nothing you say within these walls will leak to the outside world, but weâre also not in a rush. You can take your time, decide where you want to go.â
[no answer]
âWhy donât we start with why you decided to make this appointment?â
âThe dreams.â
âDreams?â
âOver and over again, the same dreams. Always about her.â
4
âMr. Rai.â Constable Neri at my elbow, her gaze incisive in a softly rounded face, and her skin a midbrown shade made dull by the lack of sunlight. âWould you like me to drive you home?â
âThatâs my father,â I said. âCall me Aarav.â Not Ari. Never that. Itâs what my mother called me, and I couldnât bear to hear it from any other lips. The last girlfriend whoâd tried had been so frightened by my reaction that sheâd packed up and left the same day.
âYou looked like you wanted to strangle me,â sheâd said on the phone the next day. âThat much rage, your face all twisted up until I didnât know you Âanymore âŠâ Her voice had broken. âAarav, you need to see a shrink or youâll hurt someone.â
Iâd hung up and erased her number from my phone.
It had taken another year and Paigeâs concern for me to admit I needed to talk to someone, and now Iâm one of those people who has a therapist. Dr. Wendall Jitrnicka. He wears bow ties and we talk about shit. But I go every two weeks. Turns out I have a lot of shit in my head.
âWhen will you bring her out?â I asked Neri when she didnât respond.
âAs soon as forensics is done with the site. It could be hours.â A pause. âThe bodyâs been in situ a long time.â
âI understand.â There was no rush. Better they take their time and gather as much evidence as possible. âIâll wait.â
âMr.âÂâ
âAarav.â
âAarav. Nothing much is going to occur here. We only informed you because thereâs an unfortunate risk the media will turn up and we wanted you forewarned.â
I looked down at the mass of foliage again, ancient trees with twisted limbs alongside huge tree ferns entwined with vines. The canopy screened the car more effectively than any Âman-Âmade barrier. âSheâs been alone a long time. I canât leave her that way.â
Constable Neri gave a crisp nod as she left, but I could almost see her making notes in a mental file: Flat affect, macabre obsession with death, was home on the night of the incident.
When they dig deeper, theyâll discover that Iâd only been a little shorter and less muscled than I am now. Plenty big enough to deal with a petite woman. Nina Rai had entered her marriage a Âsylph-Âlike Âtwenty-Âone-Âyear-Âold, but unlike many of her peers, whoâd eventually allowed time and happiness to soften their edges, gently pad their bodies, my mother had clung to her youthful shape with a kind of feral obsession.
âControl, Ari,â sheâd said to me more than once when she skipped a meal or replaced it with black coffee. âItâs about control.â
Iâd often been a surprise to those who didnât know the family. Strangers would compliment her on her cute younger brother, only for her to shock them by claiming me as her son.
âBut youâre so young!â theyâd inevitably exclaimed. âAnd your waist is so tiny!â
Sheâd been so proud of that waist, so proud that she could still fit into the clothes sheâd brought from India all those years ago.
Not that sheâd ever worn those clothes in the years following her determined embrace of her new life. Yet sheâd kept them. A talisman to remind her of the Âpoverty-Âstricken village from which sheâd come?
Perhaps.
Iâd seen her sitting on her bed once, a pale blue top in her hands, her fingers running over the stitches. âAmma made me this,â sheâd said when I came closer. âA âfancy embroideredâ top for my fancy new life. âSo lucky, meri Nina. Marrying such a dhanee man. Wah! Youâll wear diamonds and silk. The gods are smiling on you!â â
Sheâd laughed then, the sound
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