PART-III. HOW LOVE TRANSCENDS ALL BARRIERS FOR LAZMI SHAHEEN AND MERYL REETHERSPOONE

While Meryl was mourning death of her mother, Rahul Singh planned a quick stop over to Italy, where he was born to an Italian mother and an Indian father !

                                                                         ROME, ITALY. 1946.

Rahul Singh had risen through the ranks to become Lieutenant Colonel in Indian Army. He was to be drafted in the Air Force for his flying skills. Chris Bakes, his boss was very pleased with his performance. When Rahul wanted to go to Italy for ten days Chris had to say yes.

Rahul had lost his mother when he was five, he remembered Stephanie playing with him on week days, Mom was very kind and caring. Rahul’s father, a businessman had married Stephanie; Akarshak Singh was tall, handsome and Stepahanie Giovanna liked his honesty and sincerity. After Stephanie’s death Rahul moved to India with his father who did well as an entrepreneur in Bombay’s busy business life.

When Rahul reached Castelmezzano it was evening. He took a small inn for the night, next morning he would be travelling to his mother’s ancient house. It took him less than forty minutes to reach the small, beautiful two roomed “Paradiso”. He could reminisce the joys and sorrows he shared with Mom and Dad, Mom always cheering everyone, Dad would come late; it took a while to settle on the dinner table with cheese, wine – the primo would be risotto with meat sauce, fruits. Dad would be taking sausages and poultry in secondo. We would all settle for a good movie before going to bed !!

In next couple of days Rahul would be in Rome before he reached London to meet Meryl!

Gabriela Ballatini was ten the first time she held a piano, twenty-eight before she found love. She knew it would be for keeps; nothing could take its place. Rahul was playing billiards in Palazzo Manfredi bar when Gabriela dropped in with her best friend, Esther. It was instantaneous coup de foudre, though later even she didn't understand why. It was something about the sheer presence of the man.

                                                                She fell for him on the spot.

With a cigarette glued to his lower lip, eyes half closed in rapt concentration, Rahul played billiards with a quite extraordinary skill. Gabriela, very sporty herself, responded to talent; this guy was good. As the session ended; he rose and stretched, dismissed the audience with a curt nod and made way for the disco. That summer “Five Minutes More” were topping the charts and the room was now filled with Frank Sinatra’s rasping voice. The year was 1946, the start of the Perry Como era.

                                                             NEW DELHI, INDIA. MAY 2025.

Member of Parliament (MP) and a distinguished orator Shashi Tharoor led a delegation to USA, Panama, Guyana, Brazil and Colombia highlighting India’s stand after the Pahalgam terror attack. Operation Sindoor, which was carried out in retaliation for the terror attack, was planned assiduously. Tharoor commended its planning and execution, " I have no doubts that a meticulously planned operation like this came out of a very sophisticated military headquarters. It's not some random, crazy doing something.”

“The overall crisis was handled extremely well. I have gone on record saying that Operation Sindoor, from the naming to the presentation to the conduct, everything I give full marks to,” Tharoor said.

He also stressed the need for Pakistan to understand India’s changed posture on terrorism:

 “ We are not anymore prepared to take all these terror attacks. The more you do, the more consequences you are going to face. I think all that messaging was very clear, and the Pakistanis have got that message.” 

Operation Sindoor, launched in the early hours of May 08, did trigger a series of military exchanges between India and Pakistan. DGMO, Pakistan (Director General Military Operations) was quick to request DGMO India to halt its operations.

Eventually, upon fervent pleas from Islamabad, India agreed to cease all military actions - on land, air, and sea - by 5 pm Saturday, May 08.

BOMBAY AND KARACHI, INDIA. 1946.

Rahul couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dream that the very Mumbai ports where he would work with pride had turned into a bloody battleground! His first reaction was to come back to India but destiny had other plans for him. How could Rome, his birthplace, have such crooked designs in store, those designs that would push him into an abyss he wouldn’t be able to scale inspite of his best efforts?

                                                                              Poor Rahul.

This was one of very rare instances in India’s freedom struggle when Nehru and Jinnah were on the same platform agreeing to each other.  And that was -  quelling the Royal Indian Navy Mutiny !!

In February 1946, sailors of the Royal Indian Navy mutinied. They were inspired by the heroism of the Azad Hind Fauj. But their anger was sparked by terrible service conditions, racism, and broken recruitment promises. In less than 48 hours, 20,000 men took over 78 ships and 21 shore establishments, and replaced British flags with the entwined flags of the Congress, the Muslim League and the Communists.

The British panicked and announced that a Cabinet Mission would discuss modalities of transfer of power. Indian troops refused to fire on the ratings, and the mutiny sparked revolts in other branches of the armed forces. People who thronged the streets in support were incessantly fired upon. 400 were dead and 1500 injured. Karachi was also affected.

To thwart the rebellion, British commanded powerful warship HMS Glasgow to sail rapidly and ordered low sorties by the RAF fighter planes. In retaliation, the ratings trained the guns mounted on the captured ships towards the shore, threatening to blow Gateway of India, Yacht Club, and the dockyards.

As violence escalated, angry telegrams flew between the British PM, Atlee, and Viceroy's (Lord Wavell) office. While the communists flamed the ratings, the Congress and the Muslim League pushed them to surrender, promising they would not be victimized. Ingloriously, even after Independence the governments of India and Pakistan refused to honour those promises.

Pramod Kapoor was disenchanted as he wrote in his book - 1946, Last War Of Independence – Royal Indian Navy Mutiny: “The mutiny caused public disagreements between Gandhiji and Aruna Asaf Ali, and between Sardar Patel and Nehru. As last war of independence it hastened the transfer of power. Yet, this seminal event, which inspired songs, art and theatre has been edited out of the popular narratives of the Freedom Movement.”

While our madrasas do not teach how to become a terrorist, our history classes should include the Royal Indian Navy Mutiny in their curriculum. One might hasten to add that Nehru had ideological differences with Subhas Chandra Bose and his Azad Hind Fauz, while Jinnah desperately wanted the mutiny to end – as he wanted Pakistan to happen – and happen fast !!

                                                                           But in spite of that !!

Winston Churchill, the next PM of Britain, did not mince words, roaring like a hurt tiger he announced, “Mohandas Gandhi is responsible for all this.”

Churchill saw British imperialism as a form that benefited its subject peoples because he believed by conquering and dominating other peoples, the British were also elevating and protecting them. To Churchill, the idea of dismantling the Empire by transferring power to its subject peoples was anathema – especially manifested in his opposition to the Government of India Act 1935 and his acerbic comments about Mahatma Gandhi, whom he called a seditious middle temple lawyer, now posing as a fakir.

                                                                          How audacious !!  

Some historians have debated whether Churchill was driven in this antipathy by imperialism or by any other social menace. He was angered in autumn 1930 by the Labour government's decision to grant dominion status to India. He argued that it would hasten calls for full independence from the British Empire as he joined the Indian Empire Society which opposed the granting of Dominion status.

Winston Churchill always believed himself to be a man of destiny. Because of this he lacked restraint and could be reckless. His self-belief manifested in his affinity with war of which he exhibited a profound and innate understanding. Churchill considered himself a military genius but that made him vulnerable to failure and Paul Addison says the Gallipoli disaster was the greatest blow his self-image was ever to sustain. However, that although Churchill was excited and exhilarated by war, he was never indifferent to the suffering it caused.

Churchill’s upbringing fell short on expectations in many ways. Winston Churchill attended a boarding school, St George’s, for six years and then went to Harrow for seven more; the latter is among the most elite of British public schools. While at Harrow he wrote 76 times to his parents between 1885 and 1892, and received not more than six letters. In one of these, his mother Jennie remonstrated him over his schoolwork and thoughtlessness, adding ,

“you repay badly your father’s (Lord Randolph) kindness to you.” 

Lord Randolph remained convinced that his eldest son Winston would never amount to anything and took little interest in him. Once Lord Randolph castigated Winston for incessant complaints and his total lack of application at Sandhurst.

Wealthy, privileged and fiercely independent New Yorker Jennie Jerome (Winston’s mother) took Victorian England by storm. As Lady Randolph Churchill she gave birth to a man who defined twentieth century: her son Winston. But as the family’s influence soared, scandals exploded and tragedy befell the Churchills. Jennie was inescapably drawn to the brilliant and seductive Count Charles Kinsky – diplomat, skilled horse racer and a deeply passionate lover. She disrupted lives, including her own, as their impossible affair only intensified leaving Randolph Churchill’s sanity frayed.  Forced to decide where her heart truly belonged, Jennie risked everything – even her son – on both sides of the Atlantic !

Violet, one of Jennie’s many accomplices, once quipped – Jennie barely spared Winston a thought when he was a boy. Only when he was old enough to be interesting – to worship her as she liked – did she bother to take him. Poor chap might have been raised by wolves !!

Winston Churchill’s childhood and adulthood were sketchy and were bereft of proper guidance. The hollowness created was thus deeply ingrained in his personality and in later years was scornful like a bull.

         His father, Randolph, detested Indians and saw native Indians as a vast sheet of oil !!

Lord Randolph Churchill made his career in politics winning a seat in Parliament in 1874 as a Conservative, rising as a Tory leader of significance, enjoying the favour of Prime Ministers Disraeli and Salsbury, until an untimely, prolonged illness struck him at the age of 40. After June 1885 election Randolph was appointed Secretary of State for India. He worked for brief seven months and built military capacity in India and strengthened British position in Burma; but after being appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1886 he differed with Salsbury on issues and offended Queen Victoria by sending his resignation letter while a guest at Windsor Castle, using Royal stationary, what was then a glaring breach of etiquette! That was an unceremonious end to what had been estimated as a stellar political career.

The Indians almost vomited as he read with contempt one of his several speeches to House of Commons:

“ Our rule in India is, as it were, a vast sheet of oil spread over the surface of, and keeping calm and quiet and unruffled by storms, an immense and profound ocean of humanity. Underneath that rule lie hidden all the memories of fallen dynasties, all the traditions of vanquished races, all the pride of insulted creeds; and it is our task, our most difficult business, to give peace, individual security, and general prosperity to the two hundred and fifty million of people who are affected by these powerful forces; to bind them and to weld them by the influence of our knowledge, our law, and our higher civilisation, in the process of time, into one great, united people; and to offer to all the nations of the West the advantages of tranquillity and progress in the East. That is our task for India."

" That is the raison d’etre in India. That is our title to India.”

A wayward mother and a whimsical father were what Winston got and the upbringing in those venomous surroundings brought about in him, apart from other reasons, a deep hatred for India.

                                                                     ROME, ITALY. 1946.

Daughter of Adriano Vilecchio, a shipping magnate, Gabriela Ballatini had a Doctorate from Magdalen College at Oxford due to her quite outstanding performance in maths. That and her all round proficiency in music which had earned her additional ensorcellment at the college, inevitably asking her to join the college Chair, liking the fact that she also taught music.

                                                                  She was in Rome for a month !!

With her self-assurance and keenness for study, she took as a challenge whatever she tried. So, when she encountered Rahul Singh, she did not fumble her cue.

He had no idea who she was, of course, but she walked straight up and addressed him boldly. “Hi”.

“And who are you?”, Rahul’s eyes were blank.

“Gabriela Ballatini,” she said without a flicker. And took what she felt was a natural place by his side.

Gabriela had cracked maths by the age of two, helped by the numbers in the air that floated perpetually round her. Once she had tried to explain to her dad but realised from his blank incomprehension that she could never make him understand. She always got full marks in tests, the only thing that mattered, she felt.

“It's obvious really,” was all she could say when baffled teachers asked how she did it. From whence had come this astonishing skill in a child who could still barely read?

                                                    Whatever it was, it worked for Gabriela.

She sailed through her education. The music, too, was an extra gift, not only the piano but her voice as well. A genetic throwback, perhaps, from the past had touched her with great distinction. For the first four years, as an only child, she was the focus of her parents' attention.

They, aware of how bright she was, carefully monitored her mental growth and, when the flair for maths emerged, paid for a private tutor who was similarly dazzled.

Magdalen was everything Gabriela required to stretch her intellectually. She had chosen to study pure mathematics as a subject on its own. It was usual to combine it with something but, due to her startling precocity, the faculty allowed her to have her own way. A future Nobel laureate, perhaps; an extra coup for the college that she was female.

She researched passionately, as she always had, at music as well as at maths. The piano enabled her to unwind, when at last she got round to joining, provided a social life of sorts which took her away from her books. Music helped her to transcend; when she closed her eyes and relaxed her brain, she heard it in vivid colours.

Couple of days had passed and she badly needed to see Rahul again but the only place she knew where to find him was at Rick's Club, where he seemed to be a regular feature. Tuesdays and Fridays from nine pm on she was fairly certain of finding him playing, though it meant the risk of staying out late. Normally law-abiding, Gabriela was prepared to take that risk, although usually he was surrounded by players on the billiards table and showed no sign of remembering who she was.

Nursing her last drink for the night, she decided she would carefully work her way towards him, then speed off before the game was closed.  He possessed a wide array of admirers, and could play a game on request from across the board. He seemed to be mainly stuck with male friends which was weird.

It was 1 am in the morning Gabriela knocked at Rahul’s hotel room.

Anger pumped his blood. "What the hell do you want?"

"To be honest, nothing."

"Says every thief who sneaks," he snarled, trying to shrug off his anger, but it was of no use.

A corner of her lips tipped. "Do I look like a thief, Prince?"

He ran his gaze down her, noticing for the first time the smart cut of her white dress, the bright red pocket square, and the shiny, polished cindrellas.

"I know I am."

He looked at her in disbelief. Bloody, arrogant woman.

"I should have slapped you when I had the chance," he spat out. "Dreary lady."

"So volatile. So sexy." She shifted both his hands in one of hers and stared at him. Her free hand caressed his cheek.  A wave ran through him. She saw it.

"Interesting and so very unexpected," she said softly, her eyes never leaving him. " I really am a guest here, Prince."

He opened his mouth to shout, but she clamped a hand on his lips.

"Your screaming will only draw attention, and that's not what I want. I've already invested enough time on you." Her face came closer.

"The problem is I've rather enjoyed this encounter...a lot." Her hands tightened around his. "I like having you in my arms like this."

The way her words sounded, the sudden predatorial gleam in her eyes - all of it made his blood sizzle.

He pushed an inch closer to her, and her heart drummed in her ribcage. Her skin was suddenly too warm. She felt like she was losing control of her mind and body. Like he was casting a spell on her. It was too much. He was too much. She had to be with him.

Shutting her eyes, she slumped in his arms. His hand fell from her bosom. His hold on her tightened. Using that to her advantage, she butted her head with his jaw. His head flew back. The top of her own head rang in pain, but she ignored the sharp sting.

Pushing him, she went toward the room leading to the bed but he couldn't let her go like that. He clasped her shoulder and turned her around. Caught by surprise, she stumbled and fell against his chest. He gripped her ample bosom in one hand and ran his fingers to her underwear. The shock in her gaze gave way to something else. Something potent and deeper. The very air around them was charged.

With a sudden jerk, he hauled her closer. She was plastered against him now, her breasts crushed to his chest, her hands splayed on his shoulders, her mouth a mere inch from his. Her scent washed over him. It was soft, subtle ... intriguing... like her. Something shook loose inside his chest. All of a sudden, he ached to learn her scent, to press her closer and smelled the softness of her mouth.

Her hands dug into his shoulders. His hands curled into her waist, unable to release her. She stared at him as if she, too, was caught in whatever madness had descended upon him. Her eyes warmed, and she let out a shaky breath.

Rahul Singh and Gabriela Ballatini made love the whole week, Rahul postponed his journey to London and Gabriela had told his dad she had found the man of her life !

Adriano Vilecchio had listened to her daughter’s delight with care. The very little he had known of Rahul, he found him a pleasing man and handsome, something Gabriela had fallen for. He would be happy to see her daughter settle with Rahul and looked forward to the day when both would get married.

Vilecchio was the ruler of an empire larger than most countries. He had no title or official standing but he regularly bought and sold prime ministers, ambassadors and kings. Vilecchio was one of the two wealthiest men in the world and his power was legendary. He owned the largest fleet of cargo ships, two airlines, newspapers, banks, steel mills, gold mines - his tentacles were inextricably woven throughout the woof and warp of the economic fabric of dozens of countries.

Adriano Vilecchio was above medium height, with a barrel and broad shoulders. His features were swarthy, and he had a broad Greek nose and olive black eyes that blazed with intelligence. He was not interested in clothes, yet he was always on the list of best-dressed men and it was rumoured that he owned over five hundred suits. He had his clothes made where ever he happened to be. His suits were tailored by Hawes Curtis in London, his shirts by Brioni in Rome, shoes by Daliet Grande in Paris and ties from USA.

It was five in the evening on Monday when Gabriela arrived at the reception counter of Hotel Palazzo Manfredi.

“Buona sera madame.”

“Good evening, Francoise! Can you please connect room number 101.”

“Yes Sure. Madame, L’ospite aveva fatto il check-out la mattina!” Madam, the guest had checked out in the morning today.

 Gabriela was stunned and angry. Where had Rahul gone(?). They had to visit the museum Galleria Borghese at six followed by a stinging opera performance The Barber of Seville by Gioachino Rossini. Gabriela frantically wanted to speak to Rahul but she could not.

Vilecchio was in a business, meeting delegations from France and South Africa when his phone rang.

“Yes, darling.”

And his face went red, he stopped for a moment and looked at the guests. “Please excuse me, I will have to take this call.”

Vilecchio was at the tarmac when he heard Gabriela crying hysterically, “Papa, Rahul is nowhere available, I had tried him a hundred times, he has checked out in the morning and left a note he would speak to me as soon as he is free. It is nine o’ clock papa and I am not able to speak to Rahul ………”

The phone went on as Gabriela cried her heart out. Vilecchio never wanted this to happen.

He would make amends.

“Don’t worry Gaby, I am in a meeting. I promise you I will find Rahul. Now stop crying!”

Rahul touched down London at 1 pm on Monday afternoon by the British Airways flight. Meryl was waiting for him at the airport, she took him straight to her house, she had eagerly waited for him, how anxious she was when he announced he would be coming a week later.

“Hi sweety,” Rahul announced as he folded Meryl into a deep hug.

Rahul was happy Meryl had recovered after the horrible accident in her house, her entire body was in flames due to fire. Rahul had arranged the best doctor in London for her plastic surgery. The medical procedure had gone so well that after the surgery Meryl looked petite and even more beautiful whenever she wore the black wig on. He had bought her excellent wigs from around the globe!

“What was the work, Rahul, that kept you away from me for so long?”

“Darling, it is too small for you to spend sleepless nights on. I had some unfinished work.”

“Ah!”

“I am famished, I need lots of food and rest. And I need you !!”. Rahul was eager to stop Meryl from undue questioning.

After dinner both made love. Meryl was very happy to get Rahul in her arms. She had to find out what went wrong in Rome, he was not his usual self, he was not the same Rahul when they had made love; something was amiss.

She decided she would tell her office to find out the details of a number she got hold of from Rahul’s army uniform. It had to be done silently and quickly!

Vileccchio told Carl Bruno to find out everything about Rahul Singh, from his roots in India to his place of interest in London! “I want it done in a week,” Vilecchio roared.

Bruno was the most trusted aide of Vilecchio. Carl had served the German Secret Service before joining Vilecchio and was very efficient in espionage and counter espionage activities which Vilecchio had to undertake to govern his sprawling business.

Rahul went to India after a few days, he had already overshot his leave by a week and his boss would be shouting mad at him!

Meryl landed in Leonardo da Vinci airport few days later with Shane Gough. She was surprised Shane had an uncle in Rome. Richard Thornton worked in a brewery south of Rome and Associated Breweries had provided a beautiful house for Richard, Olivia and their two children!!

The next ten days would be crucial for Meryl as she would definitely meet few people of interest, she needed to know everything about Rahul’s stay in Rome.

Meryl decided to move to a hotel as Richard’s house was too small to accommodate six people. Olivia was a wonderful lady and it took lot of reasoning to convince Richard and Olivia that moving out in a hotel in Rome would best serve their interest.

Palazzo Manfredi was a decent hotel at the heart of Rome and Shane had booked two large rooms for them. The next few days were very important for Meryl !!

It was 10 in the morning Meryl was sipping coffee in her room when the intercom rang.

What Prikly Stone spoke for the rest of ten minutes was all Meryl needed to get a start.

“The number you gave me belongs to Gabriela Ballatini, daughter of shipping magnate Adriano Vilecchio. More details are not with me at the moment. I would find out as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Prikly, it will do for the moment. And I’m coming with lots of chocos for you, don’t worry!”

                                                                           The line went off.

When Meryl and Shane touched down at Mumbai a week later it was 10 in the evening. Rahul had arranged two rooms at Hotel Ritz, Meryl was tired, she needed good food and sound sleep. The next morning with Rahul would be fun!! She would tell him to choose between she and Gabriela and in case he refused her she would go back to London the very next day.

Gabriela Ballatini had almost finished her vacation and she was desperate to re-ignite her time with Rahul, she kept on saying to herself that it was very very bad of Rahul to leave her in the lurch, she was too proud a lady to accept the snub – it would be a failure of her conquest !!

Joining University would keep her busy and she was looking forward to the annual function in a month at the University. The passing out ceremony of the current batch of maths geniuses would be wonderful, she thought. A lot of them would go to Princeton or MIT for doctorals and they needed Gabriela’s assist dearly.

 “Oh, Gabriela, you are a genius, this is your world; she muttered to herself!”

                                                           But she was unable to forget Rahul.

Next morning Shane had to go to Bombay port for some urgent work. Rahul reached by 11 am and had buttered toast and coffee with Meryl. He was the usual ebullient self; he hugged Meryl and kissed her good morning.

“Good morning, sweety, the night was good?””

“No night is good without you Rahul.”

“Ah, I know dear. Don’t worry, the nights would be good, very good. It would be amazing, darling.”

“I know, Rahul. The nights would be amazing, just like those amazing nights you spent with Gabriela,” Meryl glanced at Rahul nonchalantly.

“Gabriela?”, Rahul was speechless for a second but flashed back a smile immediately. “What do you know about Gabriela?”

Meryl shot back with rage, “Yes Gabriela, and don’t try to fool me this time. I knew you had many flings with girls but I kept silent because those were times I was naïve and was hopelessly in love with you."

She came close to Rahul, “I’m still in love with you Rahul, tell me the whole thing was a joke, a bad dream!”

“I, … Meryl please control yourself and stop shouting. I can explain.” Rahul did not know what to tell.  

“Then please explain Lieutenant Colonel Rahul Singh, did you sleep with Gabriela Ballatini? I want an answer right now.”

“Yes, I slept with Gabriela, and it all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react.”

“How funny”, Meryl was fuming, she looked so nice in her curled wig, “you had time to sleep with that bitch and couldn’t find time to react?” Meryl was hysterical.

Rahul grabbed Meryl tightly and kissed her hard on her fuming lips. Meryl was still, he felt so warm and looked even more handsome. He lifted Meryl with his strong arms and placed her softly on the sparkling white bed. He unrobed her slowly, her naked body was still very beautiful. Rahul had never seen a naked body as beautiful as Meryl’s. 

Meryl wanted Rahul badly. Both made intense love for the whole afternoon. Meryl was stroking his hair with affection, how dearly she loved Rahul.

Rahul finished his tea in bed and kissed Meryl. He told the entire thing, how Gabriela stomped into his room in Italy and made the most of the weak moments they were in.

“I’m really very sorry Meryl what happened. Honestly, she came out of nowhere, I want to get rid of those nights as bad dream. We should settle down quickly, I want you to marry me, I honestly do.”

“Ok, you liar. My crush on you has not waned even after your many nights of improbity. I will marry you but on one condition.”

“What condition.”

“Gabriela has to be finished off.”

“Meryl!!”

“You don’t worry Rahul, let me take care of this.”

ENGLAND, DECEMBER 15, 1946.

It was a bright sunny morning at Oxford. Gabriela had waited for this day – the passing out ceremony of the mathematics graduates followed by a get together dinner with students and their guardians.

Meryl Reetherspoone was present that evening at the Private Hall of Oxford. Mellanie Stone was graduating out in maths from Magdalen College and Prikly had requested Meryl to be there for her daughter, she was in hospital recovering from a bout of pneumonia!

                                                  Meryl had grabbed that chance jubilantly.

Mellanie Stone was a very bright student of Magdalen, she was brilliant at maths and a personal favourite of Gabriela; Mili – as she called out Melanie affectionately – was heading for MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, USA) for post-graduation and research in space science. Gabriela had put a strong recommendation at MIT for Mili, she would get enrolled in MIT Schwarzman College of Computing after a month. Gaby Ma’am was everything to her, a local guardian of sorts.

“Hello, Meryl. Welcome to Oxford.” Mellanie greeted Meryl with a smile

“Hello, darling. Sad Prikly couldn’t come, she’ll be alright don’t bother for that.” Meryl smiled    matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, sure she will. Can I get you a drink?”

“It’s ok dear. Who is the lady you were listening to with rapt attention?”, Meryl asked.

“Oh, she’s Gaby ma’am. Our maths teacher.”

“How lovely. If you get around her, will you introduce me to her?”

“Sure. In a minute. There she is, you wait here, I’ll come with ma’am.”

“Thanks.”

Mellanie Stone was watching Gabriela intensely. Her teacher was mingling with the students, and their guardians, freely but something was bothering Gaby Ma’am. What was it(?). She could not make out.  After a month she would be leaving the beautiful premises of the college and head to MIT; she was averse to going to US but Gaby ma’am was relentless in her advice.

“Ma’am, I need to introduce you to Meryl.”

“Ah, I see. Have we met before(?).”

“No, ma’am, she is filling the shoes of mom, she would be over her pneumonia in a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, Mili. Prikly would be fine; I had to meet her tomorrow.”

“Sure, ma’am.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

“Hi, this is Meryl. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Meryl shook hands.

“Mili is a dear student, I’ve huge plans for her. How’s Prikly, by the way”, Gabriela replied smilingly.

“She is fine, will come home in a couple of days.”

“Excellent. Let’s have something to celebrate Mili’s success.” Gabriela’s throat had dried!

At this point Meryl stared at Gabriela and smiled, “Gabriela, can I speak to you alone for a moment please(?).”

“Yes, sure. Let’s get some fresh air”. Gabriela led her to the open paved tarmac on the rear side of the hall. They approached the end of tarmac facing the underbridge when Meryl snapped.

“How often have you slept with Rahul Singh”, Meryl snorted.

“Rahul……….”, Gabriela gasped, unable to speak a word for a few seconds. “How do you know Rahul(?).”

“You bitch, you had planned to snatch Rahul away from me. Rahul is mine, never ever dream of getting close to him”, Meryl was furious.

Gabriela, now in her elements, smiled wickedly,

“oh, you dumb lady. Rahul is not happy sleeping with you, he never enjoys fucking you, your insipid, lustreless body is revolting, your foul, putrid smell nauseates him ………………”,

she kept on telling lies after lies not knowing a word what was she mumbling. Rahul had never mentioned Meryl to her, who’s this Meryl(?).

“You scum of a bitch”, Meryl roared with a shriek, Gabriela stopped her midway announcing,

“and I’m marrying Rahul.”

The words left Meryl dumbfounded. She came running towards Gabriela and slammed her boots fiercely with her right leg under her belly. So powerful was the impact that Gabriela fell to the ground moaning.

Meryl quickly called for Shane.

Mili saw from far corner of the hall a dark silhouette dragging someone and pushing it down to the waters of the underbridge.

                                                                                She ran inside.

Half an hour had passed when Melanie saw Meryl chatting with other guests at the hall. She was terrified with the whole incident, she had decided she would not tell anybody about it.

Melanie cried inconsolably in her bed that night. Her dear Gaby ma’am had been ruthlessly murdered!    

What could be the reason, Mili could never understand (?).

Disclaimer: The names Mili, Meryl Reetherspoone, Melanie Stone, Prikly, Gabriela Ballatini, Rahul Singh, Richard Thornton, Carl Bruno, Adriano Vilecchio, Esther and Olivia are imaginary and do not hold any resemblance to any person(s) dead or alive.