The Half-Child Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned Bollywood film star from the nineteen-thirties and forties. Fearless Nadia performed all her own stunts—sword fighting, whip cracking, lion taming—her signature act was fighting villains on top of moving trains. And like Jayne, Fearless Nadia was born in Australia.
    Rajiv’s attraction to Jayne both excited and unnerved him. He’d been in love once before, and he’d had sex once before, but not at the same time. His girlfriends back home came from nice, middle-class Bangalore families like he did. They’d permit a bit of ‘Eve-teasing’—a grope, rub, pet—sometimes even under their clothes. However, they drew the line at anything that might technically constitute deflowering. They were ‘saving themselves’, though not for him.
    Rajiv longed for sex and romance, and falling in love with a foreigner—with Jayne—seemed at last to provide a means to that end. But as yet he’d been unable to take their relationship to the next level. Admittedly, they’d only been on a few dates, exchanged a chaste kiss at the end of the night. Contrary to popular wisdom, Jayne appeared happy to let things develop between them with no sign that ‘all
    Western women want is to jump into the sack at the drop of a hat,’ to quote his Mama-ji .
    As much as it unnerved him, Rajiv wanted more. He wanted to spend the night with Jayne, not just have sex and leave as if she were a prostitute. That meant explaining his absence to his relatives. He might contrive to spend a day with her but the thought of making love in daylight made his heart race with anxiety, and he still faced the problem of accounting for his whereabouts. Even in a city of eleven million people, he felt trapped by the scrutiny of his family.
    Rajiv was stuck in Little India when his heart’s desire was to run wild in a foreign country.
    He stepped down from the street on to the floating dock that housed the open-sided Ton Pho Restaurant. The interior was bright with the stark light of naked fluorescent tubes. A fly-spotted poster of a fruit bowl, an outdated Tiger Beer calendar, and faded plastic roses in vases on each table passed for decorations. He nodded in greeting to the elderly lady cooking in the veranda-style kitchen off to one side, and spotted Jayne sitting at a table by the river’s edge.
    She looked up as he approached. She didn’t greet him with a kiss for which he was grateful, being brought up to believe it was rude to display affection in public, but there was warmth in her smile. A waitress appeared with a bottle of cold beer and a menu as he took his seat. Rajiv’s Thai was basic, but he got the gist when Jayne declined the menu and deferred to the woman in the kitchen. They’d just opened a second bottle of Tiger Beer—that was another thing Rajiv had learned about himself, he liked cold beer—when the food arrived. Prawn tom yam soup, glass noodle salad, deep-fried snakefish with a spicy dipping sauce, stir-fried greens and steamed rice. They ate with gusto and when they pushed back their empty plates, Rajiv caught a return nod of approval from the old auntie.
    Jayne took out a cigarette and he leaned over to light it for her, before helping himself to one. He didn’t smoke before he met Jayne, and he certainly didn’t smoke as much as she did, but he’d discovered he liked one or two after his evening meal. She drew back deeply and exhaled the smoke high over their heads.
    â€˜I took on a new case today.’
    He nodded his head, encouraging her to elaborate.
    â€˜Alleged suicide. Twenty-one-year-old girl. The father thinks there was foul play involved.’
    â€˜Now that sounds exciting,’ Rajiv said, rolling the tip of his cigarette in the ashtray to bring the glowing end to a point. ‘You cannot be telling me that this is just another dull case.’
    â€˜It’s a welcome change of pace,’ she said, smiling.