Wendy followed my efforts with her eyes but was so blissed-out that it took her a moment to find the words to ask where I was going."To the kitchen. I...need a cheese roll or something."She looked alarmed. "No, no," she said, and tried hard to stand but was unable to achieve the necessary muscular co-ordination. I helped her up. "I'm planning something," she said. "Please try to wait. I'll be as quick as I can." She motioned me towards the front room, then stumbled off kitchenwards, apparently. She got a bit furious and shouted, “If you want to keep fucking that bitch next to you, you can do it as much as you want. I don’t care. But why the hell you made me do it?” Inside my head, I got the context why she is crying. It looks like she called the number I gave and looks like things got ugly.But I was confident that the person I referred to is a very good businessman in Chennai whom I met once in London. I know for sure he would not have harmed her. Sundar asked her, “I don’t know what. More

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