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The more time she spent with Roz, the more she had to question that assumption.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE MIDNIGHT GARDEN

That evening, Roz met her at The Songbird at the end of her set again.

“I have an idea,” she said, cornering Deepa backstage as the dancers came out in a sequined flock. “How much do you trust yourself after midnight?”

“That's quite the line,” Deepa noted, playing like it didn’t thrill her. “Are you planning to seduce me?”

“Pretty sure I already have,” Roz returned with a crooked grin. “But I wanted to take you somewhere, if you’re up for it. I know you haven't gone out since it happened.”

“Where?”

“Since you liked my dreamscape so much, I thought I’d find the nearest thing in real life. See if your cat enjoys it as much as you do.”

A great part of Deepa wanted to say yes without thinking twice. Yes, she wanted to spend more time with Roz, going anywhere, doing anything. She wasn’t worried about letting her instincts get the better of her. If she could control herself in theflat, there was no reason she couldn't control herself anywhere else. But it wasn't herself she had to worry about.

“What are you going to tell people when they see you out walking with a giant wildcat?” she had to ask.

“No one will see us.”

“You can’t promise that,” Deepa pointed out. “There’s nowhere in London you can guarantee will be completely empty of people, no matter the hour.”

“It’s a private property outside the city, and the owner won’t ask questions. We can drive out there before midnight. Unless you don’t want to,” Roz added, her brow crumpling in a frown. “Obviously, that’s your call.”

“I want to,” Deepa said immediately, just to see Roz break into a smile again.

Roz drove her north of the city, where the rise of buildings first turned to suburbs, and then to fields of farmland. For all her nightlife spent in the city, Deepa had never driven through the countryside at night before, and the land looked navy and indigo as the city streetlamps were swallowed up by the darkness and left behind. In the country, there was no smog to blanket the sky, and the stars shone in a dazzling array above the horizon, entirely galaxies swirling across her field of vision.

Leaning forward to peer through the windshield, Deepa held her breath with wonder. She didn't care if it made her look naïve or unworldly. With Roz, it was easier to shed the skin of that carefully-poised socialite and return to her younger self, when she had been so easily enchanted by the world, and so much easier to impress.

Behind the wheel, Roz drove with a faint smile on her lips, casting glances to Deepa on her left every so often, as if entertained by her sightseeing. But it was a warm, fond entertainment that didn't feel anything like mockery.

“Most people get all starry-eyed seeing the city for the first time,” Roz said, “not stretches of empty countryside.”

“I live in the city every day,” Deepa returned, not shifting her gaze from the scenery. “England is beautiful at night.”

“As beautiful as India?”

“In a different way.”

“Careful,” Roz teased. “You could almost pass as a romantic.”

“Maybe I’d like to try being one for a little while,” Deepa murmured.

Pulling off the main road, Roz eased onto a dirt path that seemed designed for cart tracks more than car tyres, and they trundled along at a slower and slower pace until she finally pulled them off the path altogether and onto a flat shoulder of grass. In the near distance, a little cottage stood surrounded by mounds of flowerbeds, the first house Deepa had seen in miles. An apple tree stood between their car and the cottage, its gnarled branches grey in the dark, hunched over like a little old lady tending to her garden.

“This is Kelly's place,” Roz said. “The boxing coach; you met her at my match?”

The strawberry blonde Irishwoman with the firm handshake: Deepa remembered her.

“You’ve got three minutes. I’ve been keeping my eye on the time, since I know it gets away from you,” Roz said, tapping her watch with a wink. “Do you want to turn out there, or in the car?”

“You’re sure no one will notice?” Deepa asked, already beginning to unwrap her sari. She was going to transform whether there were witnesses or not; there was no sense in destroying her garments either way.

“Nobody comes walking out this way, and Kelly’s a good one. She'll turn a blind eye if I ask her to.”