The Train by Sarah Bourne (fiction books to read txt) 📕

‘I think we must…’ Sandeep wanted to say I think we must go back, but his mouth wouldn’t form the end of the sentence.

Abhi grabbed his hand and squeezed it. ‘Come on. Last one there buys dinner!’

She let go of his hand and started running. Sandeep stood for a moment feeling the imprint of her hand on his, wanting to feel the softness of her skin again. And then her words sank in, last one there buys dinner. But they had already had dinner so did she mean she wanted to see him again, that they were to have dinner together, just the two of them? He started running after her. He needed to clarify his position. He was engaged to be married, he already had an Abby and didn’t need another one. But as he ran he realised he might not need another Abby, but he wanted one. This one. Desperately. A She-Devil she may be but he didn’t care anymore. If it meant he went to hell, at least he could be with her.

He slowed to a walk and watched her run. He had never seen anything so remarkable, so perfect. She’d hitched up her skirt and her legs were long. Her hair swung from side to side with each step. She turned, and stopped under a street light.

‘Too fast for you, am I? I knew it. Too much sitting in an office and not enough exercise.’

‘Oh, that’s what you think, is it?’ He started running and overtook her, arms and legs pumping. But after a minute his lungs were screaming and his legs felt like lead. He stopped, leaning over with his hands on his knees, panting. She caught up with him, barely out of breath, and laughed.

‘I told you so,’ she said as she jogged past. ‘I win.’

‘Wait. We are going the wrong way for Osterley House – we should have taken a right turn back there.’

Abhi grinned. ‘Okay. We’ll go Dutch. But I would have won if I’d known the way.’

Now, thought Sandeep. Now is the time I must tell her that I am not a free man, I cannot have dinner with her. But his voice had deserted him again and all he could do, when Abhi took his hand, was hold it and revel in her touch.

‘So, how many introductions has your mother actually organised?’ Abhi looked at him as they passed under another street lamp, and Sandeep had to take a long breath and remind himself to keep moving even though he suddenly felt like he had lost all his bones and was turning to putty.

‘A dozen, maybe,’ he said in a voice that sounded strange to his own ears; strangled.

‘Only a dozen? You’re getting off lightly. You must be my thirtieth.’ She laughed, showing straight white teeth and the tip of her pink tongue. Before he could stop himself, Sandeep imagined it licking his skin. He groaned. No, no, no, he must not think these things. He must not want these things. But he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to.

The gates to Osterley House were locked and Sandeep was disappointed they weren’t going to be able to see the house after all. Abhi, however, had other ideas.

‘We can climb over them, they’re not high.’

Sandeep looked around. They may not be high but there must be CCTV cameras around, or security men with dogs.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Abhi climbed over, jumped down on the other side and started walking along the drive.

‘It’s illegal – we could get into a great deal of trouble–’

‘Oh, come on. Live dangerously.’

Sandeep’s heart quickened as he climbed the gate and caught up with her. He wanted her to take his hand again but she was walking fast and hardly seemed aware of him at her side. Now there were no street lights and the clouds were obscuring the moon and stars, the trees either side of the path dark silhouettes against the charcoal night. Their footsteps were loud on the gravel, competing with the sound of Sandeep’s pulse in his ears. What if they were discovered? He might lose his job. Or worse, Abby might hear of it and wonder what he was doing late in the evening walking through Osterley Park with another woman.

Not just any other woman. Abhi. Beautiful, kind, intelligent, daring Abhi. He wanted to laugh out loud, to raise his eyes to the heavens and thank the goddess Parvati that he was with such a woman. Even if it was only for this night and nothing happened between them he would have the memory of it, of her, always.

He paused – he’d wanted to thank Parvati. Not God, not Jesus, but Parvati. And in that moment he realised that whatever happened in the future, his recent foray into Christianity was no match for the religion of his past, his family, his culture.

The drive looped to the left round the end of the lake and across the grass they could make out the dark bulk of the house. Without a word they left the path and stopped in the shadow of some trees.

‘I suppose we’d be pushing it a bit if we went all the way to the house,’ said Abhi.

Sandeep agreed, glad he didn’t have to be the one to point it out. ‘We could sit here for a while, though, if you’d like?’

He took his jacket off and lay it on the ground. They sat, Abhi with her back against the tree trunk.

‘I had my first kiss here,’ she said.

‘Who was it with?’ Sandeep felt a pang of jealousy he knew was irrational but left a sour taste nonetheless.

‘A boy called Arun. It was awful. He was so good-looking and such a dreadful kisser. It put me off for ages.’

Sandeep laughed, relieved.

‘I didn’t know you lived near here,’ he said.

‘We don’t know much about each other, do we? I was brought up in Hanwell. Mum and Dad still live there. I moved out