ArShi FF: The House Guest- Ch 4- The Hair Tangled In The Button - Pg 7

Chapter Two: The Woman In The Spilt Tea

Chapter Three: The Man Who Met The Woman

Chapter Four: The Hair Tangled In The Button

The House Guest

Chapter One: The Girl Outside the Station

It was raining.

This in itself was not a surprise and the people of London paid it no mind as they bustled past with their black umbrellas held above them.

What was a surprise and caused several of the morning commuters to pause for a moment was the weeping young woman dressed in an astonishingly beautiful, soaking wet pink, green and gold ghagra choli, sitting on the ground outside Hyde Park station.

"Excuse me. Are you okay?" Anjali Jha had truly sympathised when watching Game of Thrones with her husband, Tyrion Lannister had said that he had a soft spot for cripples, bas***ds and broken things.

And the drenched mess of a person, crying her heart out outside Hyde Park station, gathering more than a few odd looks was most definitely a broken thing.

When she received no reply, Anjali changed tack. "Aap theek hai?"

The woman looked up, tears still rolling down her cheeks, and gave a weak nod. "Well that's a lie." Anjali rolled her eyes. "Can you speak English? Mera Hindi thoda... weak hai."

She nodded again. "Okay great. Come on then, let me help you up. You're going to get yourself arrested for being a public nuisance if you hang around here much longer." With a huge effort, Anjali got her shoulder under the girl's arm and hoisted her to her feet. "Look, I don't know what's wrong with you and I highly doubt anyone's going to let you get on the Tube in that state," she indicated the soaking wet clothes, "so you're going to have to come with me. I live near here don't worry, you won't have to walk very far."

Anjali tried to give the woman a reassuring smile, only to have it met with a completely unreadable expression. "It's okay. You're safe with me. Look, here's my phone- I'm typing 999 into it. Hold on to it. If I try anything weird, which I won't, you can call the police." Anjali held it out until the woman shook her head and pushed it back towards her.

"My name's Anjali, by the way. If you come with me, I promise I'll help you."

Eyes so light they were almost orange with streaks of green bored into her own until Anjali almost broke the gaze.

"Okay. I'll come."

Chapter Two: The Woman In The Spilt Tea

Na jaane kaha se aayi hai , na jaane kaha ko jaegi. And that goes out for the girl in pink, green, gold lehenga choli and for you as well. You come, you put up THIS which seems quite something.. without any intro? :D This was wow by the way. Looking forward to it :')

wow .. that's interesting .. do continue it ..

What a prologue!

Interesting prologue or is it the first chapter?. Continue soon.

Now this is called a dhamakedar Start!

Interesting...very interesting.looking forward to read more.

Wow , very interesting start

Plz continue soon

interesting start

The House Guest

Chapter Two: The Woman In The Spilt Tea

Anjali looked at the clock as she drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of the sofa. The woman had been showering for almost half an hour, she was going to give herself pneumonia if she didn't get out soon.

Anjali decided she would give her another ten minutes before going to knock on the door and check if she had drowned. She channel surfed mindlessly, but nothing caught her interest and ultimately she gave up after three minutes and got up and moved towards the guest bathroom. She knocked timidly on the door.

No sound, just the muffled thrumming of the water.

"Hello?" she knocked a little louder.

Still no response.

After banging for what seemed like several minutes, Anjali panicked and used a coin to unlock the door before barging straight in. She wafted the steam away from her eyes and felt her head spinning from the sudden heat. She ran across and slid open the shower door, gasping at the sight inside.

She was still wearing her clothes, huddled on the ground with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Anjali quickly turned the water off and pulled her up again, helping her step out of the shower and hurriedly undressing her like a doll.

Anjali wrapped a large, dry towel around the woman and dried her hair with another. The girl made no movements to stop or to help her. She led her from the bathroom and took her into the guest room, pointing at some clothes she had laid out on the bed. A large jumper, some cotton pyjama trousers, some unworn underwear Anjali had bought herself on a whim and originally planned to return but could never quite bring herself to, and a pair of fluffy slippers.

"I can't dress you, hon. But I'm going to turn around and wait while you get dressed, okay? And then we're going to go downstairs, I'll make you a mug of nice hot tea and we can work out what to do next, okay?"

She didn't nod but moved silently towards the bed, her movements robotic as she pulled on the clothes several sizes too big for her frail frame.

When she heard the rustling of clothes and movements stop, Anjali turned around and gave the young woman a small smile. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

"What's your name?"

She took a tiny sip of tea, jerking almost imperceptibly as the heat burned her tongue. "... Khushi." Her voice was barely a whisper.

What a shockingly inappropriate name.' Anjali couldn't help herself from thinking.

"I've been trying and trying to think how to put this in the least offensive or upsetting way so I'm sorry if I do either of those things, but would you be okay with telling me why you were sitting outside a station crying in the rain wearing what looks like something Anju Modi designed?"

Khushi took another sip of the scalding tea and then held it in her hands, staring down at the creamy surface. Anjali could see her hands shaking and suddenly felt guilty, "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if you don't wa-"

"She brought me here... to marry. Dressed me in these clothes. Told me, Wait here, I'll get him so you can meet. See if you like him.'." She froze here, when she spoke again her voice sounded both more fearful and furious. "Two men. One said "Take off your clothes." The other "Or we'll do it for you." I was scared. Ran into the bathroom."

Anjali could feel an incredible anger boiling up inside her as she realised what Khushi was trying to tell her.

"Banging. So much banging. And yelling. Threatening me. Telling me they were going to-" the teacup dropped from her hands and smashed on the floor, leaking golden brown liquid all over the floor. "The window was small. But it was enough. It didn't open all the way, just tilted out a little. I could hear them running at the door. Crashing into it from the other side... I was so scared. So... So sca- I took off my shoes and hit the window with them again and again until finally, it smashed. Threw them out the window and jumped. And then I ran. Until I couldn't anymore. So scared."

Anjali knelt down on the ground in front of Khushi, the spilt tea seeping through the knees of her tan chinos. "I am going to help you stop whoever it is who tried to do this to you. I promise. This was completely unacceptable and I... I'm so sorry. You're safe now. I promise you. I'm so sorry, Khushi." Anjali tried desperately not to cry as she pulled Khushi into a hug.

She brushed away the ones that spilled over anyway and looked up. "Do you know who this woman was? Do you remember where she took you?"

Khushi shook her head. "We call her Gari Maami. She goes to our village and other nearby ones, finds girls of marriageable age and then takes them abroad to marry. I don't remember where we went. Headache. Slept in the car from the airport."

"There are others?" Anjali felt her throat constricting with anger as Khushi nodded. Her expression hardened. "Thank you for telling me all this and I promise you that you're safe now. Would you like anything to eat?"

Khushi shook her head.

"In that case, do you remember the way back to your room?"

She nodded.

"Go back there and get some sleep, okay? Come back down whenever you're ready. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

There was a moment of silence. "Thank you."

Anjali waited until she heard the faint sound of the door shut. She immediately picked up the phone and called a number she knew almost as well as her own. "Hello?"

"You need to come to my house immediately. Bring Aakash. This needs both of you."

"Understood."

"And call NK. Tell him our business with Malhotra can wait, I need him on reserve. Just in case."

"This sounds big."

"It is." Her eyes fell on the puddle of tea pooling on her hardwood floor. "And bring a mop."

"Are you going to make us spring clean again, Di?"

"Didn't I tell you not to call me Di' on the phone, Chotte?"

"If you don't stop using that stupid codename I'll-"

"You'll what?"

"... Nothing. See you soon."

Anjali hung up the phone.

Chapter Three- The Man Who Met The Woman

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A Little Note For You From Me: Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying. I really appreciate all your likes and comments so please do carry on giving them. :) I hope you'll enjoy this story, I'm really looking forward to writing it.