Breakfast, coffee, a bit of tourism around Gateway of India and it would be about that time, Margaret calculated in her head. All should be fine soon.
The cabbie dropped them near Taj Palace hotel and left. 11:03 a.m.: Coffee.
11:15 a.m.: Sandwiches from a street hawker. 11:30 a.m.: No sign of Mr Patel.
12:00 a.m.: Viviane: 'I'm scared.'
Margaret: 'We've crossed the biggest hurdle. There's absolutely no reason to fret now.’ “???? ? ????, ??????? ???????.” Have faith in God, dear girl.
Deborah: “?? ??????? ????????????.” You worry too much. Margaret: 'No more Russian, please. Speak in English only.' 12:52 p.m.: Margaret: 'Anyone hungry?'
Nays.
01:23 p.m.: Deborah: 'I need to go to the toilet.' Viviane: 'Me too.'
Margaret: 'Why don't we go to a café, have a drink and you two can relieve yourselves?'
Deborah: 'How do you muster up such brilliant ideas?' Smiles.
Margaret: 'But, we have to be quick. Cannot afford to miss Mr Patel.' 02:22 p.m.: Deborah: 'Will he come?'
Margaret: 'Of course he will. Just be patient.' 03:17 p.m.: No sign of Mr Patel.
03:39 p.m.: Still no sign of Mr Patel.
Why hadn't he come? Wasn't he intimated of their travel? Would he come at all?
When? What if he didn't? Was he already here, but didn't recognise them? Margaret’s mind went into an overdrive, but she maintained a calm façade.
04:00 p.m.: Deborah: 'What do we do now?'
Margaret: 'Hang around for a few more hours. I am sure he'll turn up.'
04:36 p.m.: Viviane: 'It'll be dark in some time. If he doesn't come to pick us up, where do we go at night?'
The hysteria was disseminating. How would they fend for themselves?
04:59 p.m.: Margaret: 'Let me make a call. You two, listen carefully. Stay here. I'll locate a public phone and call Moscow to check if something's wrong. Do not, I repeat , do not move from here. If Mr Patel comes, don't go with him. Wait for me. I'll be back in ten minutes. Be alert and be brave.' Margaret unzipped her tote and rummaged to locate her little green diary. She patted the two girls on their heads, like a mother, and left.
05:13 p.m.: Margaret returned. 'I cannot get through. No one's answering the phone.' Viviane: 'I'm worried.'
Deborah: 'Me too.'
The girls weren't geared up for a no-show by Mr Patel; everything, until this moment — except for the little touch-and-go moment at the Delhi airport — had gone exactly to plan. Why, then, should Mr Patel not show up?
Margaret: 'He'll come. Maybe he's got delayed by some other work.' Deborah: 'What other work?'
Margaret: 'I don't know girl. I am only speculating. I am equally worried.' Silence for a few minutes. Then:
Margaret: 'Let's set a time. If he doesn't surface by seven-thirty, we go looking for a place to stay for the night.'
Deborah: 'Where?'
Margaret: 'Around here. We act as three girls on a vacation to Bombay. We'll find a cheap room nearby.'
Viviane: 'I'll sleep in your room.'
Margaret: 'We'll all sleep in the same room, don't worry.' Mollification.
Repose.
06:13 p.m.: Even the phantom of Mr Patel was disassembling. Hopes had started to dissipate. With each passing minute, the probability of Mr Patel arriving to pick them up diminished. They had passed the entire day hanging around Gateway of India, so he couldn't have missed them if he came. Three young girls waiting would be conspicuous enough. They wished they weren't blazing enough for other men who might have been watching them.
Daylight was a guest now. It would soon be gone.
06:58 p.m.: Margaret was the first to notice two men watching them. They had been there for, at least, the past ten minutes. She couldn't hear anything although she could comprehend that the guys were talking about the three of them. She, however, decided against mentioning it to Deborah and Viviane and raising unnecessary hopes. Besides, who knew who they were? What if they were cops looking for three girls who had absconded from New Delhi this morning? Should she alarm her friends? Be prepared
The cabbie dropped them near Taj Palace hotel and left. 11:03 a.m.: Coffee.
11:15 a.m.: Sandwiches from a street hawker. 11:30 a.m.: No sign of Mr Patel.
12:00 a.m.: Viviane: 'I'm scared.'
Margaret: 'We've crossed the biggest hurdle. There's absolutely no reason to fret now.’ “???? ? ????, ??????? ???????.” Have faith in God, dear girl.
Deborah: “?? ??????? ????????????.” You worry too much. Margaret: 'No more Russian, please. Speak in English only.' 12:52 p.m.: Margaret: 'Anyone hungry?'
Nays.
01:23 p.m.: Deborah: 'I need to go to the toilet.' Viviane: 'Me too.'
Margaret: 'Why don't we go to a café, have a drink and you two can relieve yourselves?'
Deborah: 'How do you muster up such brilliant ideas?' Smiles.
Margaret: 'But, we have to be quick. Cannot afford to miss Mr Patel.' 02:22 p.m.: Deborah: 'Will he come?'
Margaret: 'Of course he will. Just be patient.' 03:17 p.m.: No sign of Mr Patel.
03:39 p.m.: Still no sign of Mr Patel.
Why hadn't he come? Wasn't he intimated of their travel? Would he come at all?
When? What if he didn't? Was he already here, but didn't recognise them? Margaret’s mind went into an overdrive, but she maintained a calm façade.
04:00 p.m.: Deborah: 'What do we do now?'
Margaret: 'Hang around for a few more hours. I am sure he'll turn up.'
04:36 p.m.: Viviane: 'It'll be dark in some time. If he doesn't come to pick us up, where do we go at night?'
The hysteria was disseminating. How would they fend for themselves?
04:59 p.m.: Margaret: 'Let me make a call. You two, listen carefully. Stay here. I'll locate a public phone and call Moscow to check if something's wrong. Do not, I repeat , do not move from here. If Mr Patel comes, don't go with him. Wait for me. I'll be back in ten minutes. Be alert and be brave.' Margaret unzipped her tote and rummaged to locate her little green diary. She patted the two girls on their heads, like a mother, and left.
05:13 p.m.: Margaret returned. 'I cannot get through. No one's answering the phone.' Viviane: 'I'm worried.'
Deborah: 'Me too.'
The girls weren't geared up for a no-show by Mr Patel; everything, until this moment — except for the little touch-and-go moment at the Delhi airport — had gone exactly to plan. Why, then, should Mr Patel not show up?
Margaret: 'He'll come. Maybe he's got delayed by some other work.' Deborah: 'What other work?'
Margaret: 'I don't know girl. I am only speculating. I am equally worried.' Silence for a few minutes. Then:
Margaret: 'Let's set a time. If he doesn't surface by seven-thirty, we go looking for a place to stay for the night.'
Deborah: 'Where?'
Margaret: 'Around here. We act as three girls on a vacation to Bombay. We'll find a cheap room nearby.'
Viviane: 'I'll sleep in your room.'
Margaret: 'We'll all sleep in the same room, don't worry.' Mollification.
Repose.
06:13 p.m.: Even the phantom of Mr Patel was disassembling. Hopes had started to dissipate. With each passing minute, the probability of Mr Patel arriving to pick them up diminished. They had passed the entire day hanging around Gateway of India, so he couldn't have missed them if he came. Three young girls waiting would be conspicuous enough. They wished they weren't blazing enough for other men who might have been watching them.
Daylight was a guest now. It would soon be gone.
06:58 p.m.: Margaret was the first to notice two men watching them. They had been there for, at least, the past ten minutes. She couldn't hear anything although she could comprehend that the guys were talking about the three of them. She, however, decided against mentioning it to Deborah and Viviane and raising unnecessary hopes. Besides, who knew who they were? What if they were cops looking for three girls who had absconded from New Delhi this morning? Should she alarm her friends? Be prepared
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