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”Three hours later they’d made it to the last rest stop at a cosy pub in the middle of nowhere. Maisie dumped her bags and practically danced to the bar.“Usual?” she asked Ethan.“Please, I’ll grab us a seat.”He scooted round the table to get the best view of her leaning on the counter. At five-feet-two-inches, she was standing on her tiptoes to peer into the fridges behind the bar. Jason came up behind her, his hand on her waist as he brushed past. Ethan’s face clouded. He was happy with the easy banter they’d fallen into after working together for so long but watching her now with Jason hit him unexpectedly, like a metal bar to the throat. Plus she wasn’t exactly telling Jason to fuck off. Jason leaned in to say something to her and she threw her head back laughing before turning to come back to the table.“The usual,” she plonked Ethan’s drink in front of him and sat down before grabbing the menu. “I’m starving.”“Me too,” Jason sat next to her closely to share the same menu. Ethan. In front of our Villa on the main road itself there was a small wooden shop, for cigarette and paan, we used to call it as paan gumti (that’s what they address such shops in Chattisgarh). The owner was a guy called Shyam who was quite a weak and old looking guy for the age that he used to say. The shop used to be his fathers who had passed away long back leaving his mother and him to handle the affairs. His mother was pretty old but a very talkative and social lady and used to come home every day to take drinking water and also to sit and talk if she found me or my mother outside.Shyam used to stay behind our house in a small hutment, which was part of a small settlement (few huts spread here and there) on encroached land which later the Govt had transferred to them on humanitarian gesture. It was a very small rectangular piece of land in which his hut stood. The hut was made of bricks and mud and had corrugated tin sheets as roof. There was no electricity and no corporation water.
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