SHE was standing at the half-opened doorway, crying softly, a quiet plea for help.
“What happened? How did this happen?” he asked, visibly disturbed by what he was seeing.

She tried to answer but couldn’t, her lips trembling, the cut on her lip quite tender. She opened the door further, nodding to him slightly that he could come in. Dravid followed her cautiously and sat on the sofa opposite her.
She noticed his unease and answered his unspoken question, “He’s not here, gone back to the gold mine.”

“He did that to you?”
She nodded, trying not to cry, and he remarked with deep concern, “This is so bad, it’s… it’s…” He paused, not finding the words to describe the violent abuse. Instead, he asked, “Why did he hurt you?”
“He’s very jealous and gets angry when I speak to anyone.”
“So why haven’t you left him?”

“I can’t. He would harass my family and friends. I can’t get refuge anywhere.”
“And the police?”
She shook her head helplessly, and Dravid exhaled with creeping frustration, unsure how he could help her.
“You can’t be here alone, though. Someone needs to be here with you.”

“My mum’s coming later, and my sister—she’s a nurse—treats my injuries.”
She spoke calmly, finding it difficult to talk without wincing in pain, and he said, “That’s good, but I can get a doctor to look at your injuries.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, I’ll be fine.”
He got up and, sitting beside her, took her hand in a comforting way and said, “You’re a kind person with a warm personality, and you don’t deserve this. What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know who can help me.”
Instinctively, she leaned her head on his shoulder and cried. That touched his heart, and he held her comfortingly, wiping her tears gently when she lifted her head.
“Sorry about that,” she apologised.
“You don’t need to be. You needed that comfort.”

She nodded with a painful little smile, and he moved back to where he had been sitting, continuing their conversation.
Her mother came in a little later, surprised to see a strange man in the house. She gave her a warning look and said, a little fearfully, “Rachel, suppose he comes back any time now.”
Rachel responded a little doubtfully, “He’s gone to the bush.”

Her mother shook her head. “I don’t trust that man.”
Realising the danger of him being there, Dravid got up to leave, and at the door, he gently squeezed Rachel’s hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Hope you’ll feel better.”
She smiled a little with a soft “thanks,” and as Dravid drove home, he voiced to himself, “She seems so helpless, as though she has lost everything and is forced to live with that brute of a man.”

He didn’t sleep well that night, thinking, “How can I help her?”
He didn’t know how it happened, but for some reason, when he saw her that early morning bringing out the food boxes, he felt a strange attraction to her. It was not only because she was pretty but also because there was something about her that captured his interest.

“What is it?” he wondered.
The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that it was her silent plea for help.
“How could I have recognised that, though?” he questioned.
What was even stranger was that if he hadn’t taken the wrong street, he would never have seen her.

The mysterious work of fate!
The next day at midday, Dravid went back to see her, bringing her Chinese wonton soup, cheesecake, and ice cream—soft things she would be able to eat because of the injury to her mouth. She was looking a little refreshed, with a small sparkle of hope in her eyes.

“Good to see you’re feeling better.”
He stayed for a while and asked cautiously, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, “Does he do that to you often?”
A look of pain crossed her face. “Not too often. Most of the time, it’s angry outbursts and threats to kill me.”

Dravid sighed and shook his head. “You really need to free yourself from this abusive relationship before it’s too late.”
“I know, but where do I go where he can’t find me to harm me? No one would want me at their home for too long, and the police won’t be able to protect me.”

“There are ways,” he told her. “But you, yourself, have to start freeing your mind from the fear and begin taking back your life.”
She listened with interest to his advice, but he couldn’t stay for long as he was needed at the work sites. He told her they would continue talking when he came back in the evening.

At the door, she asked him, “Why are you being so kind and helpful to me?”
“Because you made roti for me,” he laughed a little, then, on a serious note, added, “I recognised that plea on your face the first time I saw you.”
“What?” she exclaimed, surprised.

“And it was that, that attracted me to you.”
She stared at him, stunned a little, and tears welled in her eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered, touching her lips lightly, “Everything will be okay.”

Two minutes after he drove out of the street and turned onto the highway, the SUV driven by her husband turned into the street. That evening, when Dravid came by, the SUV was still there, so he drove on without stopping.
“Her mother was right,” he surmised. “Going to see her is flirting with danger for both of us.”

He knew he had to tread carefully because, even though he wanted to help her, she was someone else’s wife, and he couldn’t be sure what her violent husband was capable of.

He did not go back, waiting and hoping she would send him a message. Two days passed, and he was beginning to get really worried when, on the third day, he received a message from her:

“It’s okay for you to visit now.”
The next day, after being tied up with meetings, he went to see her after lunch. It was a great relief for him to see that she was fine, with no new injuries.

“I came by two days ago,” he told her, “but I didn’t stop when I saw his car.”
“I didn’t expect him back so soon,” she said, “especially after what he did to me.”
“Maybe he was remorseful.”

“I doubt he had that feeling, because he continues to hurt me.”
“You know,” Dravid said, with admiration in his eyes, “you’re beautiful and creative, and with your lovely personality, you can really make something of your life.”

“Why didn’t you meet me before?” she asked with a little humour.
“Maybe it’s fate’s decision.”
She smiled, believing it to be true, because that Friday morning when she first saw him, something changed for her—something that breathed life into her dying hopes. The short time he spent when he came to buy breakfast filled her being with a new, unique feeling.

Dravid put his arm lightly around her waist and said, “I want to take you out somewhere, so you can start something of life outside of this house.”
She pulled back and expressed with fear, “What? No—” then she stopped, realising what he was trying to do.
“If you want a chance to be free from the constant abuse,” he told her, “you have to start taking back your life, little by little.”

“He’ll get enraged and maybe kill me.”
“No, he can’t do that, not when I’m around.”
“And when you’re not around?”

“I will be,” he stated with conviction. “Fate knows what she’s doing.”

To be continued…