Snapshots

Shobhaa Dé

Description

As the wine and conversation begin to flow at a reunion between six women, who were friends at school, memories start to surface some happy, others bittersweet and a few that are downright poisonous... Forced to confront dark secrets that they thought lay buried deep in the past, the women begin to turn against one another and the mood of the party turns nightmarish... Death, infidelity, incest, rape, lies and the evil that lurks beneath the everyday lives of people form the substance of Snapshots, Shobha De's explosive new novel.

Informations

• Publié par: Penguin Books Ltd
• Date de parution: 16 mars 2006
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9788184751017
• Langue: English

Extrait

Snapshots
SHOBHAA DÉ
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Contents
About the Author
 
By the Same Author
 
Dedication
 
One
 
Two
 
Three
 
Four
 
Five
 
Six
 
Seven
 
Eight
 
Nine
 
Ten
 
Eleven
 
Twelve
 
Thirteen
 
Fourteen
 
Fifteen
 
Follow Penguin
 
Copyright
 


PENGUIN BOOKS
SNAPSHOTS
 
 
 
Shobhaa Dé’s eighteen books include the bestsellers Socialite Evenings, Starry Nights, Spouse and Superstar India . Her latest book is Sethji . A widely read columnist in leading publications, she is known for her outspoken views, making her one of India’s most respected opinion shapers. Dé lives in Mumbai with her family.
Also by the Same Author
Fiction
Sisters
Socialite Evenings
Starry Nights
Strange Obsession
Sultry Days
Snapshots
Non-Fiction
Speedpost
Surviving Men
Selective Memory
Spouse
Superstar India


 
As the wine and conversation begin to flow at a reunion between six women who were friends at school, memories start to surface—some happy, others bittersweet and a few that are downright poisonous. Forced to confront dark secrets that they thought lay buried deep in the past, the women begin to turn against one another and the mood of the party turns nightmarish... Death, infidelity, incest, rape, lies and the evil that lurks beneath everyday lives of people form the substance of Snapshots , Shobhaa Dé’s explosive best-seller.
 
Cover photograph by Vishesh Verma


To women friends past & present and to Dilip for interpreting them for me
One
Prem liked to make love in public places. The first time he’d suggested it to Aparna, they were weekending in Goa. It was the tail-end of the monsoon. The sky was smoke-grey like the colour of Prem’s unusual eyes. It was drizzling lightly as they walked along the beach hand in hand.
‘Amazing how many people from Bombay one meets in Goa during the rains,’ Prem commented, pushing back a strand of hair from Aparna’s wet face.
‘Cut-rate tourists,’ she said laconically, ‘like us.’
Prem kicked idly at an empty Bisleri bottle and laughed. ‘Did I hear you right? Cut-rate? And you? What does that make me, boss lady?’
Aparna looked straight at him. ‘A hanger-on? Side-kick? Sycophant? Chamcha? Kept-man? Adulterer? Take your pick, Prem.’ For a minute his smoke-grey eyes looked darker and smokier. His smile, which had temporarily frozen, picked up at the corners. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, threw back his head and laughed. ‘I like your style, Aparna. I really do. You know something? You are the first woman I’ve met who has balls. Balls of steel. You clang as you walk. Bet you didn’t know that. Maybe that’s what keeps me interested . . . and working for you.’
‘Fuck off, Prem,’ Aparna said affectionately as they resumed strolling along the stone parapet of the Taj Village. ‘You work for me because I pay you top dollar. More than your market value. Let’s face it you’ve priced yourself out of the job bazaar.’
Prem pulled at her bikini clasp playfully. ‘I render services your other execs don’t or can’t. I think we have a fair deal.’
It was incredible how many familiar faces they encountered on this one strip of beach. ‘Has the entire ad community moved to Goa for the weekend?’ Prem asked.
Aparna surveyed the scantily-clad bathers before saying, ‘It is a long weekend. Besides, we don’t exactly own this place.’
Prem smiled, ‘At the rate at which you’re going, Aparna, you soon might. Your ambition, man, that’s something else. I like it. I like it. But it’s kind of scary.’
Aparna dug her toes into the loosely packed wet sand and wiggled them. ‘Prem, I get the feeling you just paid me a compliment. Correct me if I’m wrong.’
Prem caught her by the shoulders and whirled her around, to face him. ‘Let’s fuck,’ he said, his eyes like the rain-laden monsoon clouds above.
‘Right now? And here?’ Aparna asked with a laugh in her voice.
‘I’m serious, Aparna. Come on. Stop being such a tight ass.’
She took a quick look around. ‘Well . . . why not? There are only about two dozen people we know here. Perhaps we could issue tickets.’ He held her wrist tightly and led her into the sea. ‘Prem,’ she cautioned, ‘it’s dangerous . . . have you seen the waves? Monstrous ones.’
Prem placed the flat of his palm on her bottom. ‘Dammit . . . I know it’s dangerous. That’s the way I like it.’
‘But the currents . . . the undertow . . . so many people drown on this beach during the rains,’ Aparna stammered.
‘Amateurs,’ Prem said crisply. ‘Besides sorry to sound crass I’ve done this before. Trust me.’
A gigantic wave crashed against them as they waded into the churning waters. It was a time of year when even local fishermen stayed on shore and mended their nets quietly. Aparna was amazed at herself. What was she doing with the unpredictable Prem a brilliant but lunatic adman who was married to someone else? Why was she so meekly following him into this notoriously perilous sea that dragged the unsuspecting to their watery deaths each year? And she wasn’t even a good swimmer. But Prem had that effect on her. She hated him for it. She often hated herself too.
No, Aparna was definitely not in love with the man. She knew that for sure. But she needed him both at work and at play. Prem was a convenience. A cold-blooded one. But what the hell. It worked the same way for him too. What’s more, he got paid for it. She rather liked that. Prem her creative director. Prem her imaginative lover. Good equation, that.
They were waist-deep in violently swirling water by now. Prem had a manic gleam in his eyes as he held on to her hand and pulled her in deeper. The water had reached their shoulders. Aparna’s feet were sinking into the rapidly moving sand. The rain had stopped. There was an eerie yellow glow in the overcast sky. A strong breeze blew salt spray into her face as she shut her eyes to prevent them from stinging.
Prem held her by the waist and instructed, ‘Remove your bikini bottom. Keep one arm on my shoulders. I’ll steady you. Don’t worry. It’s easy . . . even if you do lose your footing.’
Aparna threw back her head. She was tempted to laugh in sheer fright. Prem looked at her unblinkingly. They could hear shrieks of laughter as a group of noisy teenagers frolicked in the shallows. Two pale-skinned foreigners were valiantly attempting to windsurf and falling into the rolling waves. Aparna undid the bright pink strings that held the bottom of her lycra bikini up. Within seconds she was naked waist down. Her hand clutched the bikini-half under water. Prem reached for it and took it from her. ‘Can’t afford to let it float away in a moment of abandon, can we? Imagine walking into the lobby starkers.’ Aparna watched as he unzipped a small pocket on his swimming trunks and stuffed her swimwear into it, ‘Now for the top . . . Go on . . . off with it. Let’s play mermaid.’
Aparna was bobbing up and down in a vain effort to combat the sharp slap of the waves. Her torso was well above the water most of the time. ‘Don’t be silly, Prem. I don’t want half of Bombay to see my boobs.’
Prem looked over his tanned gym-worked shoulder. ‘No one’s looking. I swear. Do it. Take it off. Or else, I will.’ Before Aparna could respond, he’d unclasped the top and fastened it around his own waist. ‘Ready?’ he asked, reaching down and caressing between her legs. He forced her knees open and she found herself experiencing the most incredible sensation as the cool water splashed right into her creating strange rhythms of its own. She shut her eyes while Prem drew her to him. She found her legs, lighter than ever in salt water, float up as if defying gravity and wrap themselves around her lover’s trim, taut waist. He reached out and supported Aparna’s neck as her body arched gracefully backwards and her hair floated on the surface of the sea.
A shaft of sunlight tore through the clouds and shimmered over the waves that barely covered her naked body. Prem had deftly arranged his briefs so that she could feel him growing against her inner thigh. With one hand, he massaged her breasts in gentle circular strokes. Aparna allowed her mind to float. She blanked everything out her work, her troubled past, even her uncertain future. The moment was here and now. She wanted Prem with the sort of ferocious urgency she’d never experienced. Not even with her ex-husband Rohit at the time she was in love with him the most. And she didn’t even like Prem. Well . . . that wasn’t true. She must have liked him to be here in the first place. But Prem made her feel almost uncomfortably wanton. Something Rohit rarely did for fear of ‘spoiling’ her with his sexual attention. ‘Don’t want to have a broad with an "I'm-so-sexy" complex hanging around demanding more,’ he’d once told her, a nasty edge to his voice. Prem desired her so openly, it made her feel naked in the office. It was a new sensation. One that she rather liked.
At that moment in the sea, Aparna experienced lust. No-strings-attached lust. She hated to think of it as a ‘need’. Did women ‘need’ sex? Aparna had always scoffed at the notion. No, she’d say, women need love. And caring. And tenderness. Prem had stood all these ideas on their head the day he made love to her for the first time, in an empty office, on the dusty floor, with carpenters working just a thin partition away.
*
‘Concentrate on your body,’ he was saying, as he touched her with his thumb and pushed her legs wider. ‘Hold my hands and stretch yourself out. You won’t drown. Have faith.’ Aparna followed his orders, floating on her back, flocks of foam crowning her pubes, her breasts like orbs, gleaming in the water, playing peek-a-boo with the ripples. She felt Prem’s supple feet on her thighs and over her bottom. He turned her over and held on to her ankl