Tara Pammi - Bollywood Comes to The Chatsfield

Now, going to back to chauffeuring for her brothers seemed liked the best idea. She had always enjoyed it when she had been at university. And now, it could provide her with an insulated way to join the living again.

Because she still wasn’t sure she could handle being around too many people.

‘I’m perfectly capable of handling a client for one night,’ Tanya said, feeling like she could do more than breathe and function again.

‘Then you’d better hurry,’ Raj replied.

‘Please tell me I can take the new Audi,’ Tanya said, feeling a thrill.

Pulling her towards him for a hug, Raj kissed her temple. ‘Of course. He’ll be landing in a couple of hours. The mini fridge in the rear is stocked and the petrol tank is full. I’ll key in the route in the GPS device. You know the protocol with a high-profile client, right?’

‘Yep. I’ll sign the confidentiality agreement and the rest. Any particular quirks of this client that I should know about?’ she asked, remembering an American businesswoman she had driven around three years ago who wanted to be addressed as Ma’am.

‘Nothing,’ her brother replied, shying his gaze away from her, ‘That we know of. It’s the first time he’s hiring us.’

Nodding, Tanya ran her sweaty hands over her slacks. ‘I still have my uniform.’ Reaching for him, she threw her arms around her big brother’s solid frame. ‘Thanks, Raj. Where is the client going first?’

‘The Chatsfield first. Then it’s going to be As Directed.’

Her eyes widening, Tanya smiled. ‘Wow. Isn’t that the posh hotel that everyone in London’s talking about? I saw a quick feature on the telly about it. Oohh…I can’t wait to see the inside of it.’

‘You probably won’t get to see the inside of it,’ Raj added, and then winked at her. ‘But I’m sure you’ll have a great evening anyway.’

Tanya went upstairs to get ready. During the first few months after Sunny had died, it had felt like she would never smile or laugh or feel anything ever again.

Tonight, the small thrill of seeing the grand hotel felt like a blessing. ‘One day at a time,’ she whispered to herself.

Grinning, she looked up at John Patel’s poster on the wall, and started humming one of the hit songs from a movie of his.

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