“And?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s it?”
“They don’t say anything or do anything. But he can’t move, and he can’t get away. He’s trapped until he gives in to what they want. It can last for many, many hours. He stays inside the circle, but the crowd keeps changing shifts. I saw a man try to escape the gherao once. They beat him to death.”
The memory of it made Paige shudder. The normally friendly people had turned into a screaming, frenzied mob. “Let’s get away from here,” Alfred had yelled. He had taken her arm and led her to a quiet side street.
“That’s terrible,” Jason said.
“My father moved us away the next day.”
“I wish I could have known your father.”
“He was a wonderful doctor. He would have been a big success on Park Avenue, but he wasn’t interested in money. His only interest was in helping people.” Like Alfred, she thought.
“What happened to him?”
“He was killed in a tribal war.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He loved doing what he did. In the beginning, the natives fought him. They were very superstitious. In the remote Indian villages, everyone has a jatak, a horoscope done by the village astrologer, and they live by it.” She smiled. “I loved having mine done.”
“And did they tell you that you were going to marry a handsome young architect?”
Paige looked at him and said firmly, “No.” The conversation was getting too personal. “You’re an architect, so you’ll appreciate this. I grew up in huts made of wattle, with earthen floors and thatched roofs where mice and bats liked to nest. I lived in tukuls with grass roofs and no windows. My dream was to live one day in a comfortable two-story house with a veranda and a green lawn and a white picket fence, and…” Paige stopped. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like this, but you did ask.”
“I’m glad I asked,” Jason said.
Paige looked at her watch. “I had no idea it was so late.”
“Can we do this again?”
I don’t want to lead him on, Paige thought. Nothing is going to come of this. She thought of something Kat had said to her. You’re clinging to a ghost. Let go. She looked at Jason and said, “Yes.”
Early the following morning, a messenger arrived with a package. Paige opened the door for him.
“I have something for Dr. Taylor.”
“I’m Dr. Taylor.”
The messenger looked at her in surprise. “You’re a doctor?”
“Yes,” Paige said patiently. “I’m a doctor. Do you mind?”
He shrugged. “No, lady. Not at all. Would you sign here, please?”
The package was surprisingly heavy. Curious, Paige carried it to the living-room table and unwrapped it. It was a miniature model of a beautiful white two-story house with a veranda. In front of the house was a little lawn and garden, surrounded by a white picket fence. He must have stayed up all night, making it. There was a card that read:
Mine [ ]
Ours [ ]
Please check one.
She sat there looking at it for a long time. It was the right house, but it was the wrong man.
What’s the matter with me? Paige asked herself. He’s bright and attractive and charming. But she knew what the matter was. He was not Alfred.
The telephone rang. It was Jason. “Did you get your house?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful!” Paige said. “Thank you so much.”
“I’d like to build you the real thing. Did you fill in the box?”
“No.”
“I’m a patient man. Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, but I have to warn you, I’m going to be operating all day, and by this evening I’ll be exhausted.”
“We’ll make it an early evening. By the way, it’s going to be at my parents’ home.”
Paige hesitated a moment. “Oh?”
“I’ve told them all about you.”
“That’s fine,” Paige said. Things were moving too quickly. It made her nervous.
When Paige hung up, she thought: I really shouldn’t be doing this. By tonight I’m going to be too tired to do anything but go to sleep. She was tempted to telephone Jason back and cancel their date. It’s too late to do that now. We’ll make it an early evening.