"Damn it. Not an Uber in sight. This happens every time it starts to drizzle." Miss K shoved her phone back into her small leather handbag.

I was standing next to her in the veranda of the Madras Club. We were just leaving a book launch. One of those usual Madras "old society" events where everyone knew everyone, the cocktails were watered down and the finger food was barely edible. It was now nine o'clock, and everyone was leaving as fast as possible to avoid the oncoming monsoon storm.