The Punjabi Pappadum Read Online Free PDF

glass window catching some early sun.
    â€œGood morning, Ron,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Veejay Singh, your buddy.”
    â€œYou’re no buddy of mine, son,” grumbled Ron. “I’m dying of thirst over here. Make yourself useful and get me a cup of tea. White with one. And I’ll have one of those lamingtons while you’re at it.”
    Travis located Elsie, asleep in a recliner. He wiped dribble from her chin with a hand towel then gently tapped her arm.
    â€œHi Elsie, I’m Travis.”
    At first her look was vacant, then something seemed to click.
    â€œCecil!” she roared. “It’s Monday morning. Have you put the milk bottles out?”
    â€œI’m not Cecil, Elsie. My name’s Travis.”
    â€œLast time that fool left them in the sun. I won’t have warm milk, Cecil.”
    A nurse appeared at his side.
    â€œCecil was her husband,” she explained.
    It turned out that Dexter’s buddy, Charlie, was on holiday at the Gold Coast with his family, so he decided to join, Veejay.
    â€œHi, I’m Dexter,” he announced, pulling up a seat next to Veejay and Ron. “Mind if I join you?”
    â€œBloody terrific,” moaned Ron. “How come I’m the poor bludger that gets two? Hope you can make a better cuppa than your mate here.”
    Early as it was, a ‘Day with the Grey’ was already proving a great success. The photographers milled around capturing magic moments between allocated buddies for their respective papers. Busy in the background, jostling for a photo opportunity, was Mr Carmody.
    â€œI suppose the whole idea came to me when I was visiting my own gran,” he sprouted. “Dear old soul. A Day with the Grey gives those in their twilight years a bit of companionship before they … How should I put it — Cross the finishing line?”
    â€œWhere’d you find that moron?” asked Ron, into his third cup of tea.
    â€œHe kind of found us, I’m afraid,” replied Dexter.
    â€œLucky you.”
    Slowly, Ron placed his empty cup on a side table and fixed his eyes on Veejay. Again, Veejay was out beyond the window, somewhere far away. His teeth began to grind, making the muscles in his jaw twitch and ripple. Before Dexter could explain, Ron lifted a finger over his lips. Something in him seemed to soften.
    â€œI thought you two were supposed to be cheering me up,” he said.
    Veejay turned to face them, confused.
    â€œWhat’s up, son?” asked Ron.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œCome on now. I may look like a silly old fool but I’ve been around, you know.”
    And that was it — so simple. It was like turning on a tap. First Veejay told Ron about his mum and dad and their dream of owning a restaurant. It gushed out. Then he went into details about the Pappadum and Burger Barn and how everything had turned sour. New details too, ones he’d kept secret, like the visit from the health inspector and a Licensing Commission representative. Ron took it all in, even the part about Uncle Ravi and the Curry Kid, until Veejay ran himself dry and slumped exhausted in his chair.
    Ron took a moment and licked his lips.
    â€œCup of tea, Ron?”
    â€œThanks, Dexter.”
    In a flash Dexter had the tea sorted, white with one, and was back with his buddies.
    â€œYou’re getting squeezed,” said Ron, looking over his shoulder.
    â€œSqueezed?” asked Veejay.
    â€œTrust me, I used to be a detective in my day. Fraud squad mainly. I’ve seen this sort of thing before. I’m willing to bet that this Burger Barn mob are trying to squeeze you out.”
    â€œBut what about the letters in the local paper and the health inspector and the licensing representative.”
    â€œThey’re trying to hurt the Pappadum, Veejay. By the sounds of it, you and your family are the only serious competition in town. There’s dirty money going up the