A P T

By Seema Jha

A symphony of emotional notes which ends up in a high octave pitch of suspense. Seema has once again woven a web of intrigue, a myriad of base human instincts which will be a thrilling experience You will marvel once again at the authors command of the plot and narration.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546291930

Seema Jha

Seema Jha is a prolific novelist who lives in Boston, Lincolnshire, UK with her husband and their son.

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© 2018 Seema Jha. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of pure fiction. Inspiration might have been taken from life.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/23/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9194-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9193-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Dedicated to my wonderful husband,

Dr Mithilesh Kumar Jha

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to my son Suyash Jha,

my late father, Professor Surya Kant Mishra,

my late mother, Mrs Shail Bala Mishra,

my late father-in-law, Professor Shankar Kumar Jha,

my mother-in-law, Mrs Durga Jha,

my sister, Sushma Jha,

her late husband, Prabhakar Jha,

my brother, Sunil Mishra,

his wife, Ranjana Mishra,

my brother, Anil Mishra,

his wife, Priyanka Mishra, and

my sisters-in-law, Anu, Rupamji and Poonam Didi,

Hiraji, Lal and Mohanjee, my brothers-in-law for their encouragement.

A special thanks to my lovely neighbour Sara Whitby for typing my

entire manuscript. She also typed my earlier novel Maze.

How can I not mention my neighbour, Sara’s husband, Bob Baker for his

constant encouragement.

Last but not least my husband, Dr Mithilesh Kumar Jha.

CHAPTER 1

In any relationship it is very important to give one another space. At least, that is what I choose to believe, Som spoke. Although his comment seemed to be aimed at everybody, he chose to look at nobody. Instead, he gazed studiously at the mug of coffee in his hand as if he was addressing the inanimate object. Nita couldn’t help thinking that Som, the eldest son of the family was as usual rather cold and detached. A short man with a receding hairline and a moustache, he was extremely thin. The expression in his large eyes seemed to indicate that he would like to keep everyone at a distance.

I suppose you mean me. We all live in separate houses although we are in the same city. How much more space do you want. If you wish to move to a different city, feel free. If having a family union once in three months is more than you can endure, you have the option to move. You all do try to get the most out of me as it is. I mean, as far as emotional help is concerned. I listen to your problems, whatsoever they might be and do give advice now and again. I really doubt if you will reciprocate should I require assistance. I suspected your father of having affairs but it was never proved. I will never forgive him for the fact that he gave me very little time. As for you, Sheela, tongues will begin to wag soon if you don’t stop seeing your religious guru. He is a man after all and I scarcely need to tell you how the world thinks. Then again, I am aware that I can’t impose my views on any of you. I can merely guide you but the decision has to be yours, Mira, Mummy to everybody responded. She realised she had spoken sardonically but she didn’t really care. If something had to be said, it just had to. It wasn’t as if Sheela was a docile daughter-in-law. She forever had an angry expression on her face. It seemed as if she was constantly annoyed by something. And she was capable of defiant caustic remarks. She could be fairly aggressive when she chose to be.

Som means me. He feels I’m not giving him space. He is solitary by nature as you all know. He likes reading books, listening to music. He has very few friends. I don’t think I mean very much to him. He wants to keep me at a distance, his own wife. That is precisely what he meant, Sheela explained. She sighed wistfully. They did have acquaintances apart from the few friends Som had but he would always refuse invitations from them. He wasn’t affected either by praise or criticism and chose to do things his own way. Sometimes she wondered why he had got married. A single life-style would have suited him.

Don’t talk of me as if I wasn’t in the room. Not that I really care what anyone thinks. I will however say this. I was speaking generally. My comment wasn’t targeted at any one person in particular, Som uttered the words loudly. It didn’t appear as if his feathers had been ruffled. There was a totally blank expression on his face. He stared at them importantly as if to emphasise the significance of his words. He shook his head though it wasn’t clear what that was meant to indicate. In blue jeans and a white shirt, ordinary was the word that probably described him.

I fail to see what all the fuss is about. Som is entitled to his opinion. I love each one of you dearly and even the hint of a rift worries me. Anyway, can we move on please. Enough has been said on the matter, Om retorted. Reasonably tall, he took pride in his appearance. Well attired in blue jeans and a red T-shirt, he looked good. Nita looked at her husband Joy. Slightly shorter than Om, he was almost bald with spectacles. He had had hair when she had first met him but after marriage had lost it. Looks didn’t really matter, Nita told herself. She wasn’t at all surprised that Joy chose not to say anything on the matter. He almost never got involved with anything. And it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It was a wise move. Om’s desire to be the centre of attention had attracted her in the past but suddenly she couldn’t help thinking that it was a sort of greed to be noticed at all times. Joy dressed simply in a light blue shirt with dark blue trousers seemed quite content to be silent.

Once in three months doesn’t seem excessive to me. And as for Sheela’s meetings with her religious guru Baba, I agree wholeheartedly with Mummy. It doesn’t take long for a reputation to be tarnished. You might be going there for comfort and solace but others wouldn’t see it like that. People will always be more than willing to spread rumours, Sweetie said. Her light pink Western dress reached a little below her knees and flattered her. Sheela appeared to be gritting her teeth. That was a bad sign. Trouble was sure to be approaching. It had not been prudent of Sweetie to have spoken thus. Like everybody else, she was well aware of Sheela’s explosive personality. Then again, Sweetie was pretty manipulative and it wasn’t unthinkable that her words had been quite deliberate and not just spoken on impulse.

You don’t seem to be listening. At least you’re only hearing half of what is being said. As Som has mentioned, his comment was general, not specific. I am sure I can speak on Som’s behalf in that he and I have no objection to these family reunions. As for Baba, that is my personal business. Rightly or wrongly I have faith in him. If people have a wicked mind, it does not concern me in the least. I have been told more than once that my inability to give birth to a child is annoying to some people. Not only that, I myself am tense about that. I am sure that sooner or later I will be blessed. If you have a problem with that, there is not much I can do about it, Sheela said. Nita scratched her forehead. Something seemed to have bitten her earlier. Her mind went into her past. Losing bothher parents at a car crash at a very young age had changed her life very abruptly. Her uncle, her father’s brother and his wife, her aunt had been kind enough to adopt her and her brother but life after that had not been easy. Her aunt had taught her how to cook and clean and iron at a very early age and moreover had not sent her to a very good school. She brought herself back from her reverie.

I don’t quite know what to say. I totally trust my wife and if Baba’s homeopathic medicines and the meditation he recommends, make her calm, then I see no reason to change that. As for having children, I don’t mind if we don’t have any, Som muttered. He looked at Mummy with a blank expression. Sheela still looked cross but not as much as she had appeared before. Nita looked at her husband Joy who still had not said anything. She had been merely a school girl when he had come to visit his aunt in summer. His aunt happened to be their next door neighbour. She had noticed him at once. He was somewhat more than average height, lean and wore glasses. There was something very honest and sincere about his face. She had discovered he had just started Medical College. He would play the guitar and she would stand at her balcony and gaze at him as he did so. He would look up now and again and their eyes would meet. Nita realised with a start that she had probably missed some of the conversation.

It has to be said that the current Prime Minister is trying his best to oust corruption. At least, that’s what I think, Om spoke. He ran his fingers though his hair and stared in what seemed like a lustful manner at Sheela. Nita had noticed that flirtatious manner of his. Om used to glance at her in the same way now and again. He didn’t seem to realise that it was inappropriate to do so. Om was a handsome man and it seemed to her that his appearance was exceedingly important to him.

Thanks to Joy’s intervention, we have moved from family politics to national politics. But I must say this. Some people can’t have enough of family politics. Why that is so I have never quite understood, Sweetie stated. The atmosphere that had got calmer seemed to get a little tense again and Nita couldn’t help thinking that that was precisely Sweetie’s intention. She gazed at Sweetie with both annoyance and perplexity. She found it difficult to understand Sweetie’s psychology. Sweetie was extremely beautiful and she had a reasonable enough if not very good job as a sales girl. Her husband Om was not a bad business man. One would have thought she would be so content with her position in life as to not cause a havoc in others’. Yet that was not so.

"Unless you want to stir up trouble, which I don’t think you do, I would say let sleeping dogs lie. And in any case, it’s a storm in a teacup in my opinion. A trivial thing shouldn’t be