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It gave me a lifeline. Business had been bad since I lost most of my clients to Thien, a Vietnamese woman whom I had selected, trained, paid for her accounting degree and employed. And who was so annoyed I would not leave my wife for her that she left my accounting business taking with her with most of my Vietnamese customers. This caused the fall in my income which meant my Vietnamese princess or wife was so annoyed she could no longer spend my money like water, she was not putting out in the bedroom.
The solution was Anupama Chawla who worked as an underpaid bookkeeper at the same firm as my wife’s best friend. She and her husband lived in the same suburb and after we were introduced we often ran into her and her husband at the supermarket. It was my wife and her husband who came up with the idea of having Anupama work for me at a higher salary and enable my business to gain the Indian tertiary student income tax business, and with my government migrant registration, I had for the Vietnamese, the lucrative Indian permanent resident business. A win-win situation.
The only downside was Anupama. She was 43, a dark-skinned, pock-faced, 36c 33 37, portly 127 pounds, 5ft 4 dowdily dressed Indian from Kolkata. But beggars can’t be choosers and I needed clients. So a week later she arrived for work, flat heels, those ugly ankle stockings, a thick blouse and a shapeless long black dress whose hem hung down at the back. Dressed far worse I thought than in her traditional red and white garad saree with its intricate bengali pleating. Maybe she thought this looked more like the boring accountant I was,
