A go-between

by Rajendra Peeris

That was the Colombo branch of The Mid-Ray Bank. Its manager an Irishman named Rodney Broomstick was a nice man with gentle qualities, but who was firm at times pertaining to duties and discipline.

In mid-sixties of the 20th Century, a pretty young lady named Miss Neranjala Wijekoon joined the Bank.

All of a sudden the Manager Broomstick rang the bell for the peon to hand over a chit to call Prem Bogahatenna, an experienced hand though quite young.

The young man entered the Manager’s cubicle. “Sir, did you send word for me?”

“Well, yes Mr. Prem, this young lady is the latest to join our staff, one Miss Neranjala Wijekoon. Please give her a pep talk mainly based on current accounts.”

“Very well, Sir.”

“Miss, please follow this young man.”

She simply followed him.

“Miss, may I know your name please? It is difficult to follow our Manager’s pronunciation, he is an Irishman - Rodney Broomstick.”

She was a pretty girl with a round face, fair in complexion; knitted her long hair to a single plait: “I am Neranjala Wijekoon, call me Neranjala,” she muttered in a sweet voice.

“Well, I have to make a self-introduction: I am Prem Bogahatenna, call me Prem. By the way did you study in Colombo?”

“No, studied throughout in Kandy.”

“I thought as much. Well, before we embark on the subject matter let me introduce you to some of our colleagues.

“This is Kumar Selvarajah, Shibly Miskin. Here comes Tuan Lantra, then Suresh Silva. This is Ms. Saroja Fernando, Miss Shashi Pulle. You may come to know a few others, those had gone to the canteen. Ah! Just barged in Clive Fonseka….”

Clive had cast a sharp glance at the newcomer.

“Miss Neranjala, let’s go to the Current Accounts section.”

She simply followed Prem who offered a seat to make her comfortable. He pulled out a ledger sheet and told her that it was an overdraft account with a limit marked in red. In payment of a cheque the manager had to authorize it if the limit exceeded….

The rest of the colleagues were carefully watching the tutor and the keen student.

Once the short introduction was concluded the lady said: “It is really instructive and interesting. Thank you so much, Sir.”

The colleagues gave a hoot including Clive with a sharp look at the newcomer. Prem felt thoroughly embarrassed: “Neranjala, please call me Prem, I am someone like you.”

She did not make a similar mistake again.

Picnic

During a long week-end the staff embarked on a picnic to Peradeniya Botanical Gardens. They all sang together. Both Neranjala and Prem did not miss a couple of duets together. She had a melodious voice and Prem’s was somewhat base and enchanting.

Everything went on in the Bank quite smoothly.

One fine day in the absence of Neranjala, Clive Fonseka took Prem to the canteen. Clive was not the type of person to stand a cup of plain tea to a friend. But he was quite unusual that day to offer Prem a cup of milk tea. All of a sudden he disclosed his trump.

‘Hi, Prem you should do me a favour.”

“What’s it Clive?”

“I am madly in love with that pretty girl.”

“You mean Neranjala?”

“Who else!”

“Why can’t you put a talk to her? You had better invite her to the canteen, then offer a couple of chocolate cakes with ice-coffee.”

Clive raised his eye-brows: “Chocolate cakes with ice-coffee?”

“Yes! What’s wrong?”

“Suppose if her response is in the negative?”

“Well then, your expenses incurred in respect of chocolate cakes and ice-coffee will go down the drain.”

“Please Prem, don’t try to crack a joke on a poor soul. I am head over heels in love with her.”

“I’ll try, but can’t give a categorical assurance. Neranjala is quite sharp and expensive; cannot be taken for a ride.”

On a gloomy day Neranjala was all alone in the canteen sipping a cup of milk tea. As he saw him she gave him a sweet smile: “Prem, why don’t you join me?”

Prem brought his cup of tea and took a seat next to her: “Neranjala, a friend of mine is highly interested in you, madly in love, head over heels!”

Her sweet face went sour: “Tell me who the chap is.”

“A clever bank worker, Clive Fonseka.”

Suddenly she lost her temper and flared up: “For God’s sake stop this, don’t try to play the role of a ‘go-between’. Surely this is none of your business. You had better mind your own business!”

Prem was shocked. He did not utter a word. He got up and left the canteen.

Transfer

It was a red-letter-day for Clive of The Mid-Ray Bank to be selected an able worker for a transfer to its London Branch. Clive was selected on merit. Everyone spoke of Clive’s achievement. Prem said: “Clive, you are clever and hardworking and you were selected on merit. Accept my heartiest congratulations.”

However Clive’s sharp greedy eyes were focused on Neranjala. She did not bother to wish him and she didn’t meet his eyes.

Apart from official duties Prem avoided Neranjala as much as possible. But she felt very sad to miss him.

Before Clive left the country the rest of the staff arranged a visit to the Dehiwela Zoological Gardens. Even Prem very much wished to join them. But two days prior to the picnic Prem’s mother fell ill and therefore he could not make it. During the picnic Clive wished to be seated next to Neranjala to sing a duet with her, but she could not avoid it. Once she obliged but Clive’s voice was awful and coarse. She felt the loss of Prem and was bored stiff.

Balance

It was the 31st December in mid-sixties. The Bank was closed to customers but the staff had to balance their books. Prem’s office balanced their books on the 30th and kept 31st free. Most members left office leaving behind two or three ladies. Prem preferred to stay back to read a book. As he was reading the book someone gently placed a hand on his shoulder. It was Neranjala. He could not tell anything to her face.

In a sweet soft voice she said: “Prem you seem to be a voracious reader. What’s the book?”

He simply handed the book to her.

She read out its name: ‘The Childhood, Boyhood and Youth’ by Leo Tolstoy.

“Prem, do you love reading it?”

“Yes, Neranjala it is a fascinating book, translated into English from Russian. I shall lend it to you once I finish reading. I am sure you will thoroughly enjoy its narrative style.”

“Prem, please forgive me for being nasty to you six months ago.” Her eyes were welled with tears: “You are not the type of person to be branded as a ‘go-between.’

Prem immediately pulled a chair for her to sit by his side. He gently touched her hand: “It’s alright Neranjala, why did Clive’s looks disgust you?”

She gripped Prem’s hand: “Believe me Prem, he has a lean and hungry look!”

Prem could not help a laugh. She too laughed through her tears.

Bridal

Six months passed by. Neranjala was in her captivating white bridal dress holding a bouquet of white Arum lilies. She was in fact a June bride who became very much closer to Prem on the 31st December the previous year. Prem was elegantly dressed in a beige full suit.

The everloving groom stood like her sole sentinel in the colourful bridal ceremony.