“I don’t know anything about any tape!”
“Well…the journalist contacted the producer of the show for her comments. She called Ajay, who threatened to quit, take legal action against everyone in sight, yada, yada. The only way the journalist could be pacified was by them promising to cut you out of the show and pay the journalist a substantial sum of money.”
“But it doesn’t make sense.” Jas struggled to put the pieces of this puzzle together. “For one thing—yes, I slept with him, okay? It was stupid, but I was starstruck and he was very full-on… But there was no tape! Unless he had a hidden camera. And if he did, how would it have got into the wrong hands?”
Krishnan stared at her, blinking. Jas could not meet his gaze. She felt ashamed and small, convinced he would think less of her now.
“And he was just here, asking you out,” said Krishnan slowly. “Why would he do that if… Hmm. Something is rotten here.”
“He was very keen to get me to quit the show of my own accord.”
“You’re right. He was.” Krishnan sighed. “I smell a Plan B being put into operation. But what on earth is his agenda?”
“He wanted me off the show. Why?”
Krishnan’s mobile phone launched into the intro of a Talvin Singh track. He took it out of his pocket, ostensibly to switch it off, but then frowned at the caller display for a second or two before answering the call.
“Anjali,” he said.
Jas huffed, picking up her cup of tea. Of all the times to be taking a call from his lover. Couldn’t he put her off, just for an hour, and devote his attention to the one who needed it the most?
“Uh-huh, uh-huh.”
Jas could hear Anjali’s voice in a rapid-fire babble under Krishnan’s vocal punctuation marks.
“Yeah, I heard that too. Yes, she’s fine. She’ll be fine. I want to ask you something though. Can we meet later? Oh, really? That busy, eh? Never mind. Perhaps another time, babe. Yeah. Bye.”
He clicked to end the call, his face thoughtful.
“I bet she’s over the moon,” said Jas bitterly. “One step closer to winning.”
“Mmm,” said Krish vaguely.
“Do you really like her?”
He sipped his tea before turning to Jas.
“It doesn’t matter whether I like her or not. I get the distinct feeling I’ve been dumped.”
“Oh?”
“Oh yes. Right. Drink your tea, Jas. I have a theory that needs testing. But first…”
He picked up her landline and called the last number.
“What are you doing?” Jas wondered, reaching for the phone, which Krish held out of her reach.
“Hi, Surinder? Yeah, it’s Krishnan Khan, we spoke just now. About Jasmeena. Right. I was wondering if I could ask you a favour. No, no, I understand that, and so does Jas. I suppose you’ll be issuing some kind of press release or statement about Jasmeena’s disqualification. I know Ajay won’t want his name involved…I’m presuming you don’t want to drop him as a judge, after all this fuss. No, I’m not trying to blackmail you, Surinder, don’t…just listen. I can offer you a reason for disqualifying her that has nothing to do with any kind of sex scandal. Yes? Okay? Good. Right. The truth is, she isn’t my sister. She isn’t even British-Asian. Her real name is Jasmine Wyatt. So, if you want a reason for kicking her off the show that won’t show her in a very bad light, I’d be grateful if you could use that. No, I know you aren’t racist, Surinder, I just think you could claim that she misrepresented herself. Yes. We understand each other then? That’s good. I’m very grateful to you—thank you. And I’m sorry if Jas or I have wasted your time, but, look at it this way. A bit of a sensation mid-run will get the viewing figures up, no?” He gave a short laugh. “It’s a pleasure dealing with you. I hope so.
Goodbye.”
“Smarmy git,” sniped Jas once Krish had put the phone down. “But good thinking.”
She sighed deeply.
“You couldn’t have kept that pretence up forever, sweet,” he said.
“I know. Thanks for sticking your neck out. I’d hate to have the suspicion of some kind of sordid scandal hanging over me for the rest of my life. But…I don’t know. Is that really it, Krish? Is everything over for me?”