Page 60 of From LA to London, With Love

The sirens got louder, and finally, a fire engine came into view. Relief flooded my body. Josh hurriedly stuffed the thepla he was eating in his mouth, placed the plate on the fence, and patted his curls. Despite the serious circumstances, I couldn’t help but smile. Josh always had a thing for men in uniform.

The fire engine screeched to a halt outside our house, and six firefighters jumped out, springing to action. One approached, asking what had happened. Another fire engine pulled up as we were speaking. Before long, a steady stream of water was shooting into the living room through the broken window. The flames jumping out the window were replaced with a cloud of white smoke. And then the firefighters were rushing inside with a hose. A few minutes later, they reappeared, giving us a thumbs-up.

The firefighter we’d spoken to earlier walked back up to us, smiling. “It’s all out. You were lucky. It could have been a lot worse. Your living room isn’t habitable, but you should be fine to use the rest of the house. It’ll just need a good airing,” she said.

“Thank you so much,” Dad responded with feeling.

But his gratitude barely registered with the firefighter, who’d just noticed Chris and was staring at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Sorry, um, are you…Chris Trent?” She flushed.

Within minutes, I was taking photos of Chris, Alfie, and the firefighters—and Josh, who’d sidled in between two hunky firemen, looking very pleased with himself—posing in front of the fire engines.

Photo shoot over and fire engines gone, we reentered the house. It smelled strongly of smoke.

“Oh dear,” Mum groaned as we peered into the living room. Smoke had stained the white walls black, the wooden floor and mantlepiece were charred, and the shattered window had jagged pieces of glass protruding from the frame. Guilt about the candles stabbed at my heart.

“Can I help? I could move the furniture and the rug out of the room so we can dry them?” Chris pointed at the couches and rug, which were sitting in a pool of water.

“Before we worry about that, why don’t we finish lunch so we aren’t working on an empty stomach?” Mum looked at Josh, who had retrieved the plate of thepla and was busy shoving another piece in his mouth.

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” he mumbled.

We opened the windows to air the house, put on our jackets, and heated up lunch. While my appetite had been affected by recent events, I was pleased to see Elliot’s was not. He energetically scooped daal out of his bowl, shoveling it in the vicinity of his mouth. Approximately forty percent was entering it. The rest covered his face, a daal goatee dripping off his chin.

“You must be very well known if all those firefighters recognized you, Chris. Does that happen a lot?” Dada asked.

“Yes, it’s quite common.” Chris smiled.

A shot of worry hit my chest as Dada’s question reminded me of something I’d put off raising with them. I swallowed.

“Ummm…on that topic…Because Chris is, err, fairly well known, there’s a risk that photos of me and Elliot may be published on the internet. It’s actually happened before. So, it’s possible that family back in India will see them…and have a lot of questions. I’m sorry.” I grimaced, watching Dada’s and Dadi’s faces.

Dadi, who had been enjoying Elliot’s enthusiasm for daal, turned to me.

“Sophie, we have been meaning to talk to you about this anyway. I know you were worried about Elliot causing a scandal, but Dada and I do not want to hide him anymore.”

I opened my mouth to object, but she shushed me.

“I know you are trying to protect us, but we are grown adults. We can look after ourselves, and we don’t want to hide our gorgeous grandson. We want to tell everyone how amazing he is, show them photos of how cute he is.” She smiled at Elliot. “I mean, look at him. How could anyone resist this little daal-covered angel?”

In my mind, he looked more like a garden gnome as the daal goatee turned into a full beard of daal. But Dadi was on a roll, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Yes, some people will gossip. Yes, some will be shocked, but we will cope. We went through it before when your parents got together, and we survived. You can’t keep him a secret forever.”

As much as I worried about them and wanted to protect them, I knew Dadi was right. They were older, and probably wiser, than me. And to be honest, if the news caused a scandal amongst our Indian relatives, it wouldn’t affect me much since I wasn’t in close contact with them. Dada and Dadi, who regularly spoke to them, were the ones who’d be most impacted. If they were itching to tell our relatives about Elliot, it didn’t seem fair to stop them. And it would remove one more concern I had about dating Chris.

“If you are really sure…I just hate the thought of my choices causing you heartache. But if you do tell them, it might be best to do it sooner rather than later so that you can control the message, before they see us in the tabloids.”

Dadi nodded. “Let me take a photo of Elliot. This could be the perfect picture to introduce him to everyone!”

I winced as I noticed her finger was partially over the camera lens, but didn’t think now was the best time to raise it. I took another photo on my camera to send her.

A few hours later, after we’d finished lunch, wiped Elliot’s face clean and popped him down for a nap, and moved everything out of the living room to dry, we said goodbye to our guests.

“Thanks again for saving the painting, Chris.” Mum, to my surprise, gave him a warm hug as he left.

I watched everyone walk to the gate before shutting the door. As I walked back down the hallway, I found Mum staring at the blank spot above the burnt fireplace in the living room, where her painting had been.