Page 31 of Pillow Talk
Anni and Shona nodded and got up to leave. Sam and Anni gave her a ride home, where she collapsed on her bed in her satin dress and dreamed about the boy she once loved.
Chapter
Six
Sen was now added to the list of people who hadn’t made contact with Shona. She hadn’t heard from him since Monday. It was now Friday. Bizarrely, she wanted to contact him more than she wanted to contact her family.
She couldn’t believe that they hadn’t called or visited her. Her father was a proud, stubborn man so she didn’t expect him to come to her door, begging and pleading with her to come back to the shop. She’d given up on Aruna a long time ago. Her sister was self-centred and in a comfort zone that she had no aspirations to get out of. But her mother? That baffled her the most. Had her father forbidden her to make contact? What legitimate excuse did she have for staying away from her first-born child?
Shona was sitting at her desk in her new workspace. She’d just finished packaging a veil to ship to a bride, who’d come to see her a month ago. The veil was a face-framing piece. The bride, Alysa, didn’t really want to wear a veil but wanted to appease her future mother-in-law. She told Shona that she wanted it short and flirty, and to just cover her eyes, skim her nose and fall at her jawline. Shona had added a feminine lace trim and a thin, silvery headband.
During their meeting Felicity had spoken to her about herprices. Apparently they were too low for what she was offering. Shona had to revise them. She pulled up her accounting app on her laptop and started inputting her operational costs.
A couple of weeks before, Anni had pointed out that Shona made more money selling four veils a month than the salary she’d earned at the family shop. Shona had brushed it off. But deep down inside, it ate her up. She’d never got a raise. Her salary had remained the same since she’d started working there full-time after graduating from college.
If she hadn’t picked up dressmaking or other jobs on the side, she would never have been able to afford her apartment.
Shona opened the banking app on her phone and checked her available funds. She had enough saved to get away for at least two weeks. What if she just went away? No one would miss her. She could take her laptop and sketch book. She leaned back in her chair and imagined being on holiday – at the seaside. She’d sleep in and her only job would be sunbathing on the beach. She’d drink wine every night, watch cheesy movies and daydream. Daydream – like what she was doing now. She’d never really been on a holiday. She thought back: yes, her family had never actually been on a holiday together because the shop couldn’t close. When she was younger, her mom would talk about a holiday, but after a while she stopped mentioning it.
A flashback suddenly made Shona sit up. She was 16 and it was Christmas time. Her mother’s brother, Uncle Pat, had invited them to spend Christmas with his family in a holiday house a couple of hours’ drive from Rally. Her mom had been so excited that she hadn’t stopped talking about it since early November. It wasallshe could talk about. It was a Tuesday afternoon. Shona remembered that because on Tuesdays she didn’t have to stop at the shop to ‘help out’ after school. She walked into a massive argument between her parents. There was shouting and crying. Aruna was at dance lessons and Shona ran to hide in herbedroom. Her parents never ever fought. They were too busy to fight. Her dad would work from sunrise to sunset at the shop while her mom threw her energy into community organisations. It was much the same now. But that Tuesday, her father came home during the day to tell her mother that they were not going on holiday.
‘Prith, you’re being ridiculous. You know we can’t close the shop,’ her father shouted.
‘What changed? Yesterday, we knew we were going on holiday but today we’re told we are not. What do I tell my family? I always have to make excuses,’ her mother shouted back.
The arguing had gone on until Shona heard the front door slam.
She quietly tiptoed out of her room to look for her mother. She found her sitting at the kitchen table, where she was on the phone. Shona stood in the doorway, where her mom couldn’t see her.
‘Jaya, how much more am I expected to take? He promised me. He promised. And after all these years, he still won’t keep his promise. The shop is more important,’ her mother said between sobs as she unburdened to her sister-in-law.
Shona tiptoed back to her bedroom.
What promise had Dad made?
She sat on her old toy box near the window, pondering.What could Dad have promised?
Her parents met when her mother spent the summer with a relative in Rally when they were young adults. They fell in love, got married and Mom moved to Rally. Mom often spoke about her life with her family. She was a qualified hairdresser but had never practised in Rally. She’d cut Aruna and Shona’s hair when they were kids and styled their hair for their proms and other school events.
That Tuesday afternoon, after her parents’ fight, it began torain. When Shona looked out the window, the neighbours’ Christmas lights were blinking through the misty shower.Theynever had Christmas lights. Dad was always too busy at the shop to put them up. They were meant to go and buy some decorations over the weekend but Dad had to work late. So now, their dark, sombre home stuck out like a sore thumb in a neighbourhood filled with Christmas cheer.
Shona longed for a Christmas like those she’d seen on TV. Instead, they were forced to spend Christmas Day at her grandmother’s house. Her grandmother was, in simple terms, mean. She was not the grandmother who showered you with love and affection. No, Grandma Shah was cold and spiteful. When Shona and Aruna were little, she complained that they were always in the way. And when they became teens, she complained that they didn’t work hard enough in the shop. She barked orders all day. She belittled Dad and he took it. Mom came to a point where she simply ignored Grandma unless she really had to speak to her. Shona hated herself for thinking it, but if her Grandma hadn’t died when Shona turned 17, the old woman would have made sure that she didn’t go to college. That Tuesday, Shona looked out the window again. Anni had been sent away to spend the holidays with relatives who didn’t really want her there. And Sen…Sen was probably with Andrea, whom he’d chosen over them the past summer. Shona was lonely. Alone.
The memory of that afternoon was so fresh in her mind that now, more than a decade later, Shona still felt that emptiness. She wiped away a tear. She didn’t even realise she’d been crying.
The plan was simple. He would walk into the shop, pretend hewanted to buy a suit, and casually talk to Shona.
He missed her but was too proud to call her. It was Friday. Since their friends’ wedding, he’d spent every Friday with Shona. But he hadn’t spoken to her since that evening at the bar.
He parked the car outside Shah & Sons and made his way into the store.
Mr Shah spotted him.
‘Senthil? It’s not often we see you here,’ he said.
‘Hello MrShah. I came to see Shona. Is she here?’ So much for the plan.
Her father’s face fell. ‘She doesn’t work here anymore.’
