5/19/2023 0 Comments The far field vijayHe had his forearms on his knees and was watching her. There wasn’t supposed to be a chair in that corner. Most of the Bakers’ guests were British expatriates like them, but there were a few Indians, one of whom was sitting in a chair at her elbow, away from the rest. As the children were walking toward her, Geeta glanced around. The girls’ mother gave them one last squeeze and then stood, looking wistful. “We’ll try to be quiet, but if we disturb you-” But when she spoke it was a plaintive whisper. Emma giggled and said, “G’night.” Sally stared at the lounging figures, something imperious in her expression. “All right, little misses, say good night to this debauched lot,” Mrs. Baker, either, because in matters of child rearing, as in most others, he deferred to his wife. She was drunk, but Geeta knew that those gray-green eyes could snap to attention at any moment. Baker was crouching between her daughters, arms around their shoulders. Laughter dribbled its way across the room. “Just don’t steal ours, because you’ll have to fight us to the bloody death.” Get an au pair.” Now she could see him, one elbow on the bar’s burnished surface. Don’t try to go it alone in this country. Baker’s voice from over by the bar, “Geeta has saved our lives, ladies and gentlemen. Two small hands left Geeta’s, and then the girls were in their mother’s arms. Tall and thin, she wore her yellow hair in a plumb-line ponytail down her black turtleneck sweater.
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