Pari travelled back on the last day of the year. The Biman Bangladesh flight was empty, in spite of tickets being cheaper. She met Roger on the flight. Roger was going to spend two weeks in London, in which time he was scheduled to meet wholesalers across Europe. By the time the flight landed at Heathrow, they exchanged numbers and fixed a lunch date.
They met for lunch the next day, and celebrated New Year and a new friendship. This was followed by dinner; seeing her off at her flat, Roger had kissed her fully on the lips. Pari, though she wanted to, did not ask him up. Somehow it felt wrong. It felt like cheating. She couldn't sleep for a long time and when she finally drifted off, it was with a sense of unease.
At first, she thought of cancelling their lunch next day. She had told Roger that she was studying. She could say that she had some submissions and had to go the library. But then he may propose dinner. She had always felt that she could keep her profession a secret, just like she did with her family or from anyone else for that matter. In fact she could have easily carried on with her lie to him, had she not started liking him. He was an average looking guy, a small-time garment trader and not too young. What made the difference was that for the first time in her young life, a man liked her company, laughed at her comments, spoke to her with respect. She was not valued because she was earning, or keeping the house clean, or arousing male libido. Pari had not planned for a situation like this.
They met for lunch. She felt like a small child, who had been up to some mischief. Roger was in a good mood. Both his meetings had gone well. Pari was only half listening to what he was saying. "What is it?" Roger asked casually. "Nothing," Pari smiled. "Let's have some wine to celebrate the start to a good week," Roger said, beckoning the waiter.
After few glasses of wine, Pari mastered the confidence to tell Roger about her job. He listened and was silent for a long while, finishing his drink slowly. Pari felt nervous, sipping on her wine. It was not that she was in love. But she had felt a connect, right from the time they had started chatting on the flight. Now looking at Roger's composed face, she felt panic. What if he just walked out. He had every right to do so. You couldn't blame him, if he was not comfortable with the fact that the girl he was seeing was a porn actress.
Roger's euphoria had fizzled out; both of them were trying to get to the end of the lunch, without any embarrassment. They spoke about the heat of Bangladesh in summer and the cold of London in winter. When Roger asked if she wanted to have coffee, she denied and both were thankful. She felt miserable, sleepy, tired, but most of all she wanted to cry in her pillow. They hugged perfunctorily, with a promise to call.
So, when he did call, around 10 in the night, and said that he was waiting down and would she like to take a walk, her first thought was it will be cold. Wrapped in her muffler and coat, she came down.
"Hey," Pari said softly. Later that night, in his room, on his bed, there was a shyness that she had not experienced for a long time. Deep down in the kiss, she had felt something strange. As if she knew his body, his touch, his lips. It had felt like comfort food. Like coming home. A snug fit into an old jacket.
He asked Pari to travel with him. When Pari told Monty that she would need a few days off, Monty said, "berate jabi?" "Yes, Monty da. I need a break." "Alone? Or with a friend?" Monty asked casually, while rearranging the setting for the next shot. Pari told him about Roger, with happy confidence; he looked up and said that a leave would not be possible. She asked, agitated and anxious, "But Monty da we do not have any delivery now!"
Monty was clearly bothered but she had no idea why.
She and Monty had broken up before she left for her cousin's marriage. In fact he and Sonia were openly in a relationship. "Well, since you know there is no work, who am I to say otherwise? But don't complain later that you don't have work," Monty said. Though the remark was made flippantly, the underling threat was unmistakable. Pari could not afford not getting work.
Roger was disappointed that Pari could not accompany him. He extended his stay in London by a few days and then went on to visit his family in Canada, before going back to Bangladesh.
They kept in touch, but soon the calls frizzled out, till texts, from time to time, made them remember each other on occasions. Pari felt the loss but did not have the luxury to linger.
She was busy building dreams, though not her own.
London, January 2018
Monty was jealous. Their break-up had not really bothered him, neither then, nor now. But there was a possessiveness that he felt. When she was having sex on camera, it was fine; that was work. But there was no denying that he was jealous of any man who came close to her. Inexplicably there was a sense of ownership.
"Monty da you don't stop Yovinne or Jackie from taking out of town trips. You allowed them both to travel with the Russian group," Pari had fumed once. Monty had the perfect explanation. "You are on an extended study visa. If you get caught, travelling, I will be in trouble."
He knew this was not the actual reason. He could not bear to see her with another man, when he was not there.
London, May 2019
When Pari had received Robert's text, some days back, she was happy and excited. But today, when the phone rang late afternoon, and Pari picked up expecting a sales call, she panicked hearing his voice. It was an odd mix of feelings. She dreaded meeting him.
She often imagined situations under which they would meet and what they would say to each other. They were dramatic, romantic, and sometimes straight out of movies. But faced with the prospect of dinner, she was not sure any more. What if they did not feel about each other in the same way? What if all those build-up moments just did not take wing? What if it became an ordinary meeting of friends?
Truth be told, they had never given their relation the nurturing it needed for a firm grounding.
He said that he had checked in early morning and wanted to meet her for dinner. He was sorry he had not called earlier. He had been dead tired and crashed after checking in.
She looked at herself in the mirror, as she spoke, and saw the oiled hair sticking to her scalp. There were bruises on her forearm and bum, she knew that. She had to check, if there were others.
Ticking the 'to do's' that would be needed for dining out, she found herself saying that she would be ready at seven.