Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Helen had nothing more to say to Monica when she returned home and showed her the shimmering ring on her finger. Melvin had done the right thing and in the right manner. All that was left was a proper wedding that would be the talk of the town. The kind of wedding that was befitting a wealthy and aristocrat daughter as Monica. And of course, the one too that would make her father smile in his grave.

‘When is he coming to ask for my blessing and to get the list for the marriage rites?’ Helen asked the smiling Monica.

‘He didn’t tell me. But I think it will be very soon. We’ll be going to see his parents on the Island next week,’ Monica replied gleefully, looking at Helen whose eyes were firmly placed on her. She would have told her as well, she was already beginning to be a good and supportive wife. That she would be supporting Melvin financially with an outrageous amount of money that would help him execute the mouthwatering contract he had won. But she felt she needed not to tell Helen about that now. That would be telling her too much already, and acting like she would be incapable of running her own home without her help and guidance. It was high time she learned how to be independent, detached and responsible. To break-away from her mother’s shadows and tentacles, she reasoned.

‘Whatever he is doing, tell him to do it fast. You cannot wear an engagement ring for too long. Otherwise, it would lose its sheen and become an ordinary ornament,’ Helen said, sipping her orange juice slowly.

‘All right, Mom. I shall tell him to act faster, as we’ll need to speed up the marriage preparations and begin the business of childbearing,’ Monica said comically, winking at Helen. Helen looked at her and smiled at her daughter’s mischievous joke.

When Monica climbed upstairs and lay on the bed, after a warm bathe, she got the message from Melvin. He had sent the bank details as she had asked him to. She read the text and phoned him.

‘I saw the message. I shall call the bank manager tomorrow, and we can make the transfer into the account,’ she said to him.

‘That would be great. Thank you so much, my queen,’ Melvin said.

‘Oh please, do not thank me. If you want to do that properly, kill yourself for me,’ Monica joked.

‘Perhaps I should not have thanked you at all. We’re a family, after all,’ Melvin replied, laughing. ‘Did you show the ring to your mother?’

‘Yes, but Mom wants to know when you’re coming over for the list of the marriage rites. The engagement ring must not stay too long on my finger, or it would become just an ornament,’ Monica said, rephrasing Helen’s words.

‘I need to see my parents. I need to take you to them and tell them about our engagement. You know we need their support and blessing as well. After that, we shall all come over for the list of the marriage rites.’

‘I think that’s OK. I understand, and I shall stand by you,’ Helen replied.

‘Thank you, my queen. I love you,’ Melvin said. He gave Monica a few squelchy kisses on the phone, as his voice trailed off. Monica lay on the bed smiling girlishly; her heart filled with sheer bliss.

When Melvin woke from sleep in the morning, he received a mind-boggling bank alert in his phone. Monica had gone to the bank and made the transfer. He was over the moon. He called her and thanked her graciously. She was his pillar and the cause of his joy, and without her, he would be incomplete. In fact, he would be nothing, he told her later, as Monica laughed heartily on the phone. Her eyes filled with tears and glee. Her love for him now was so strong that she could walk through the brick wall for him. She would do almost anything for him, she told him too.

‘I phoned my father this morning to tell him about my coming over to see him with you. But my father has travelled to the village for some land dispute,’ Melvin said, pausing temporarily, as the scratchy sound from the mobile network provider filled his ears. ‘He will be back next week and we shall go over to see them.’

‘That’s OK. Seeing just your mother in a matter as serious as this is not a brilliant idea,’ Monica said, supporting.

‘Thank you for being so understanding. Actually, I was searching through some online stores for a befitting wedding gown for you. But the one I wanted to order was out of stock. I’ll come over to see you and your mother tomorrow, and while you can start the preparations for the wedding, I shall travel to London to pick a few documents and buy you the wedding gown and some things we’d need for a classy wedding,’ Melvin said.

‘I do not have a problem with that. If that’s what you have already decided. But are you already thinking of buying a wedding gown for me and other things, when your parents are yet to approve of me? Besides, I think it would be proper I see the sample of the gown myself and see if I’ll like it or not. Or if I’ll need to go with you to London so we can buy the things together. It’s our wedding and not just your own wedding, after all,’ Monica said, her voice firm and gritty on the phone.

‘Do not worry about my parents. They will jump at you the moment they see you. Who wouldn’t want an elegant and beautiful daughter-in-law like you? And for the gown, I am sure you’ll love it. However, I shall show you the photo. But I think it would be better you prepare at home while I go and shop for our wedding. That way, things would be faster,’ Melvin said.

‘OK… I agree, if that will make us be together sooner. I just want to be your wife and bear your name soon,’ Monica said in an emotion-laden voice.

‘And soon you shall,’ Melvin said, smiling and kissing her on the phone.

When Melvin showed Monica the photo of the elegant wedding gown he planned to buy for her, she was awed and breathless by the fascinating beauty of the expensive masterpiece.

‘Oh God, I love it! It’s so beautiful, so breathtaking,’ she gasped, clutching the picture of the gown to her chest and smiling at Melvin with love-filled eyes.

‘It’s a way of showing you how much I can take good care of you and how much of the things I can do to make you happy,’ Melvin said smoothly, staring into Monica’s eyes, as he held her close and pressed his red lips against hers.

Three days later, after Melvin travelled to London, Monica felt empty and lonely. There was an abrupt and clear loss of sharpness and energy in her work. The constant thinking of his absence always made her woozy. She always spent the nights calling him on the phone, moaning his name in her sleep and clasping the pillow tightly in her arms. She missed him enormously, and pressured him to come back soon. Her body was desperately missing and needing the warmth, the feel, and the hardness of his body. But she was far more amazed at herself, at how she had suddenly turned into a clingy girlfriend overnight. And last night she tried calling Melvin again on the phone, she thought of telling him she was thinking of taking a break from work, so they would go to a good place for camping and have the chance to have blissful and mind-blowing moments together. She dialed his number repeatedly, but it was unresponsive. She placed the phone on the bed exasperatedly, and stared unflinchingly at the teacup that was balanced on the saucer and remembered that the hot coffee she had made was now turning cold. In the past few days, she had discovered she had lost her appetite and have not been eating well. She gave a short sigh and lay on her back on the comfy bed, as she stared at the ceiling. And for a fleeting moment, she wondered if Melvin’s absence was the reason for her sudden loss of appetite as well.

However, she always found some strength by looking at the brighter side. Melvin had travelled to bring all they would need for a chic wedding, and everyone would hear of the colourful wedding. Everyone would know she was getting married; and Richard, that fool that married her sneaky girlfriend would see she had bested him and revenged in the best possible way.

That evening, after Monica returned from the office, she was in the air-conditioned living room in one of her sexy and clingy dresses, seeing a movie and sipping a chilled glass of mango juice when her mother walked in. She took the wedding card from the glass table, held it up and dangled it in her face.

‘Look Mom, it’s the sample of our wedding card. I know Melvin will love it. I got the best printer in town to make it. It’s custom-made,’ she said, slurping the juice. Helen sat on the plump chair and took the card from her and examined it fleetingly.

‘It’s beautiful and classy. It’s worth the money you’ll spend on it,’ she said finally. ‘But I think it’s a bit too early to start thinking about the wedding cards when the marriage rites have not been done. Both of you are bypassing tradition. You’re still to meet with his parents and the date of the wedding has not even been fixed. I think you two are being crazy about this marriage. This is not the way things are done,’ Helen said, slapping her thighs gently. Monica looked at her mother steadily and smiled. She closed the space between them and clasped her mother’s hand.

‘I know what you’re saying is true. I think we are crazy as well. Yes, we are both crazy in love and a bit too enthusiastic to be together. Do not blame us. You only have to blame the love in our hearts. People do anything, crazier things, all for love,’ Monica said softly, as a warm smile wreathed her face. Helen’s eyes were filled with happiness as she wrung Monica’s hand and gave her a warm smile. She was warming to the idea and could understand perfectly how she was feeling, because she had walked down the exact same road. She made to speak when Monica’s phone beeped. She peered at it. It was a message from Melvin.

‘Talk of the devil,’ she said instead. ‘You have a message from Melvin.’ Monica’s eyes widened and twinkled with excitement as she rose sharply from the chair, the smile on her face was brighter. She grabbed the phone and peered into it and her smile slowly began to fade. The look on her face oscillated sharply, from a love-filled smile to a cold, steely face in the twinkling of an eye. Just as her legs began to feel limp and tiny for her body as it quavered. She held the phone closer to her face, tenuously, with a shaky hand and peered at the boldly written words that were all in capital letters. It still did not seem real or make any sense to her. She read and re-read the text and it still appeared jumbled and incomprehensible. It just did not add up, did not jell together. It sounded insane. Yet it was sane; hollow, and yet, heavy and resonating like the rattling and piercing sound of a hollow metal beaten in the dead of night.

Monica exhaled restively, with tear-filled eyes. It was not true. It just could not be true. Melvin could not have sent her the text. Perhaps it was the design of some spoilt, impish child to pull a goofy prank on her. It was unreality. But each nervy second that whisked past, the pain came piercing her heart like a sharp dagger thrust in the centre of the heart. It was slowly dawning on her, with reality gathering speed inside her. The searing pain and emotions, the lividness, the intense desire to weep, to scream and release the credibility and realism of the text; they all came surging from the bottom of her belly, clutching her parched throat, stretching her to breaking point and threatening to explode. And in that moment, the phone in her hand clattered on the hard floor and dismembered, as she placed her two hands on her head.

‘Ah! Ah! Ah! Melvin…’ she moaned, and then yelped as scalding tears came pouring from her eyes. She screamed again, this time loudly and insanely, with her eyes closed. Then her limp body slumped on the hard floor as she slipped into quiet.

Helen who was totally at sea, screamed and rushed to her daughter, as Monica was hurried into the car and driven to the hospital. She sat beside her, edgily, perspiring, clasping Monica’s hands and weeping profusely, as the car sped and juddered through the potholed roads.