‘All right,’ said Haresh. ‘I’ll tell you what. When I go back to Kanpur, I’ll make enquiries, and as soon as I find out what that number is, I’ll send you a letter. Who knows, perhaps they even have a number for ten to the eighth.’
‘Do you really think so?’ breathed Bhaskar wonderingly. His pleasure was akin to that of a stamp-collector who finds the two missing values in an incomplete series suddenly supplied to him by a total stranger. ‘When are you going back to Kanpur?’
Veena, who had just come in bearing cups of tea, rebuked Bhaskar for his inhospitable comment, and asked Haresh how many spoonfuls of sugar he took.
Haresh could not help noticing that when he had seen her a few minutes earlier her head had been uncovered, but now, after returning from the kitchen, she had covered it with her sari. He guessed correctly that it was at her mother-in-law’s behest that she had done so. Although Veena was a little older than him, and quite plump, he could not help thinking how animated her features were. The slight touches of anxiety about her eyes only added to her liveliness of character.
Veena, for her part, could not help noticing that her husband’s guest was a good-looking young man. Haresh was short, well-built without being stocky, fair in complexion, with a squarish rather than an oval face. His eyes were not large, but they had a directness of gaze which she believed was a key to straightforwardness of character. Silk shirt and agate cuff-links, she observed to herself.
‘Now, Bhaskar, go and talk to your grandmother,’ said Veena. ‘Papa’s friend wants to talk to him about important matters.’
Bhaskar looked at the two men in inquiring appeal. His father, though he had closed his eyes, sensed that Bhaskar was waiting for his word.
‘Yes. Do as your mother says,’ said Kedarnath. Haresh said nothing, but smiled. Bhaskar went off, rather annoyed at being excluded.
‘Don’t mind him, he’s never annoyed for long,’ said Veena apologetically. ‘He doesn’t like being left out of things that interest him. When we play chaupar together – Kedarnath and I – we have to make sure Bhaskar isn’t in the house, otherwise he insists on playing and beats both of us. Very bothersome.’
‘I can imagine it would be,’ said Haresh.
‘The trouble is that he has no one to talk to about his maths, and sometimes he becomes very withdrawn. His teachers at school are less proud of him than worried about him. Sometimes it seems he deliberately does badly in maths – if a question annoys him, for instance. Once, when he was very young, I remember Maan – that’s my brother – asked him for the answer to 17 minus 6. When he got 11, Maan asked him to subtract 6 again. When he got 5, Maan asked him to subtract 6 yet again. And Bhaskar actually began to cry! “No, no,” he said, “Maan Maama is playing a trick on me. Stop him!” And he wouldn’t speak to him for a week.’
‘Well, for a day or two at least,’ said Kedarnath. ‘But that was before he learned about negative numbers. Once he did, he insisted on taking bigger things away from smaller things the whole day long. I suppose, the way things are going with my work, he’ll get plenty of practice in that line.’
‘By the way,’ said Veena to her husband anxiously, ‘I think you should go out this afternoon. Bajaj came this morning and, when he didn’t find you in, he said he would drop by at about three.’
From her expression and his, Haresh guessed that Bajaj might be a creditor.
‘Once the strike’s over, things will improve,’ said Kedarnath a bit apologetically to Haresh. ‘I’m a little over-extended at present.’
‘The trouble is,’ said Veena, ‘that there’s so much mistrust. And the local leaders make it much worse. Because my father’s so busy with his department and the legislature, Kedarnath tries to help him by keeping in touch with his constituency. So when there’s trouble of some kind, people often come to him. But this time, when Kedarnath tried to mediate, although – I know I shouldn’t be saying this and he doesn’t like me to, but it’s quite true – although he’s quite well-liked and respected by people on both sides, the shoemakers’ leaders have undermined all his efforts – just because he’s a trader.’
‘Well, that’s not quite it,’ said Kedarnath, but decided to defer his explanation until he and Haresh were alone. He had closed his eyes again. Haresh looked a little concerned.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Veena to Haresh. ‘He’s not asleep or bored or even praying before lunch.’ Her husband opened his eyes quickly. ‘He does it all the time,’ she explained. ‘Even at our wedding – but it was less obvious behind those strings of flowers.’