Читать книгу Lucky You - John Duke - Страница 14

Now the task in front of Eliot was to get to the hotel, the hotel that he had booked on line two days ago. He chose it because it was close to the airport. There were very few people about, more cleaners than travellers. A glance at his mobile phone told him that it had adjusted the time, it was half an hour after midnight in Kolkata. He saw Ragini on the far side of the carousel, still with Rifka in her arms standing beside a tall man, younger than Eliot would have thought. They waved to each other across the space of the carousel. Her husband attracted Ragini’s attention and she turned away so Eliot grabbed a trolley and waited for his large backpack and red rolling case. She watched Eliot disappear into the custom’s hall

No one in customs was interested in him; the woman at immigration briefly suspended her conversation with a workmate and down came the stamp on his visa, permission to work in India for three months. In the foyer the cleaners looked at him without expression and then they went back to their job. No one wanted to get him a taxi, no one suggested a cheap hotel or a particular sim for his mobile phone. The day was over. The ATM caused him no trouble. He put the rupees into his wallet and stepped through the automatic doors out onto the pick-up area. It was almost deserted. A wave of apprehension passed through him as he took in the sounds and smells. He knew that this moment would happen, he had even thought that he knew what it would be like when it came and he wasn’t wrong. There was no one to squeeze his arm, to say don’t be silly Eliot, relax and enjoy the moment. No second opinion. The heat of the night was overwhelming. A siren squealed in the distance and Eliot thought of Special.

He could not see a taxi. One bus idled on the causeway and then a black billow of smoke rose from the exhaust as it lumbered away. Eliot stood on the footpath beside his trolley loaded with his red rolling case and his large green backpack. The few people around had their own pick-up. Across the road, the car park disappeared into darkness save for a few places where murky light was thrown by a streetlight. In this near deserted car park, through the haze, he saw a taxi in the distance so he pushed his trolley towards it. Closer, he saw that it had only three tyres and one wheel was supported by a stack of bricks.

He heard the wail of a siren again, the police or an ambulance, and he felt a little anxious and all of a sudden aware of how tired he was. He felt his toe throbbing and looked down at Carol’s dressing which was already discoloured. His head said that he was in a strange and almost deserted place where something might go wrong even though it usually didn’t. Warren The Worry Wart and little Ahli and his snotty nose and what he would have given for Ragini to appear through the haze, her hand outstretched towards him saying here, come with me Eliot. She was at his side and she said that there was no need for a taxi, he must come and spend the night with her and her family. He could spend as long as he liked and read Ahli books and play golf with her husband.

The car park was not the place to be, he just wanted his room and his bed so he could rest before the light of the day .The light of day. He felt sure that it would change everything for the better. He just needed a taxi. He took his hotel booking sheet from his small backpack and in that moment of uncertainty he got lucky as if someone had tuned into his feelings and felt sorry for him and they had decided to solve his problem as if this was proof that he had been born under a lucky star.

Out of nowhere, two men came towards him in a half run and in the next moment they were upon him. They were Pintu and Ravi. As each of them put their hands on one of his pieces of luggage he noticed immediately that they were strangely alike, both short and wiry, both with discreet narrow moustaches, both in yellow short sleeved shirts, so that when Eliot looked at them he had to re-establish their particular identity again. Later, it came to him that Ravi’s head was quite a lot bigger than Pintu’s and confusing them was no longer a problem. They both stood grinning at Eliot, as if something funny had been said. The one that was Pintu spoke.

Hullo Sir, we are here to drive you wherever you wish Sir. I am taking your bags sir.

Wait!

No. In this place and at this time of the morning he had to accept their offer. What was he going to say to them? Thank you but I think that I will wait around for a better offer just to be sure I am not being ripped off? Still, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned and then he thought that in just a few moments he could be in his hotel room close to the airport and he would turn on the air conditioner and lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling for a while and maybe then he would channel surf for a few minutes while he thought about the hot shower that he was about to have and which would help him sleep so well.

But there were questions to ask. Yes sir our taxi is a pre-paid taxi but the pre- paid counter is closed and yes the taxi has a metre. Bags in hand and Eliot in tow they scurried towards an underground car park at the end of the pick- up area as if their taxi was about to leave without them. In the car park the taxi looked like it was on its last legs but Eliot jumped into the back seat as Ravi pushed his backpack and red rolling case in beside him from the other door.

This boot, it is jamming.

Pintu jumped in behind the wheel and Ravi beside him and the engine roared into life. From the back seat of the battered yellow taxi, Eliot could see that the meter didn’t work and that this probably had been the case for some time. As they drove off Pintu and Ravi turned their faces to the back seat.

Welcome to Kolkata. My name is Pintu and my friend here is Ravi. Where is it you would like to go?

Nice to meet you both.

He would normally have introduced himself but he had the booking sheet in his hand and it was a more pressing matter.

Emperor Residency Hotel, Salt Lake City, Block B6 Kolkata. It says it is close to the airport.

Ravi took the booking sheet from his grasp and looked at it in the light of his mobile phone. Pintu looked too but no note of recognition passed over their faces. They both looked at Eliot and then there was a short conversation.

Āpa isa hōṭala kōjānatēhaiṁKō'ī

MaiṁRavi pūchēṅgē.

It seemed that they wereboth concentrating very deeply in the silence as they drove out through the airport gate and into the murky light of the almost deserted streets. Pintu lit a cigarette as he drove and Ravi lounged against the passenger door, his right arm draped along the bench seat so that he could take a quick glance at Eliot whenever he wanted. He glanced at Eliot again and lit a cigarette too and let it hang out of his mouth and he held up his mobile phone in one hand while he looked at the booking sheet with a blank look on his face. After a moment’s consideration he spoke.

We are not knowing this hotel, we are thinking that we know much bigger and better hotel and close. This one it has a swimming pool and free Wi Fi. Best you stay there! Maybe you are in your room in ten minutes.

I have already paid for a room at the Emperor Residency.

Eliot heard himself, terse, and he was surprised at the fragility in his voice and Ravi looked at Eliot in a curious way as if he was trying to work out what he should do with this Westerner in the back seat of his taxi but he turned his face towards the direction that they were travelling and seemed to accept the outcome and then he made a phone call on his mobile.

The night light was thick and the headlights of the taxi were struggling. The street lights were diffused by dust and pollution like some kind of depressing theatre effect and in Eliot’s mind the very few men on the street looked listless and maybe up to no good. For a moment, a thought crossed his mind. What in the bloody hell am I doing here? Wasn’t it slightly absurd, he thought, that he was in a taxi on a stinking hot night in Kolkata after one o’clock in the morning with two men who he had never met before looking for a hotel that was supposed to be close to the airport which they had never heard of.

Still he knew what to tell himself. He told himself that in the morning, tonight would be nothing more than a little adventure , these kinds of traveller’s fears always were something to chuckle over when you returned. What would Marion say if she was sitting beside him now? Whatever it was would make the difference. Pintu and Ravi were having an animated conversation and when they stopped at a set of lights they turned their eyes on him again and smiled, a distracted, occupied smile that gave no clear message but left him feeling uncomfortable. He felt a need to say something.

How long have you two been driving taxis?

Oh for many years, maybe we are the most experienced taxi drivers in all of Kolkata, we know to go everywhere, we can take you anywhere and this trip is not going to break your wallet. You must be very careful of some taxi drivers. They are being crooks.

Eliot allowed himself a smile. Well then how come you don’t know where the Emperor Residency Hotel is, the well-known hotel that Agoda says is close to the airport.

Yes Indians are very good taxi drivers. In Australia, If you need a taxi driver you will get an Indian taxi driver for sure.

He looked at his two taxi drivers and they were in a Bollywood film. These two looked like a couple of villains who would leave you standing in your underpants on the side of the road. Each of them with their dark eyes in their different size heads, eyes that seemed to glow in the dark, one eye said we will cut your throat and leave you tonight without your wallet and passport. The other kinder eye said, sir, with a bit of conniving and exaggerated good will you may be the source of some handy rupees for us and our wives and our children and our relatives and our friends and God knows we need those rupees. Eliot smiled at the little drama in his head and thought how lucky it was that he wasn’t trying to get a taxi in King St at this hour where Special’s kind of, being in the wrong place at the wrong time bad luck was much more likely to happen.

Then he felt his weariness and the taxi turned and turned through the streets of Kolkata so that there seemed to be no single direction that he was travelling, nothing happened that would make him feel that he was not going around in circles, nothing was happening that would make him feel that he might be closer to his destination.

He thought of the night in Cairo years ago when he and Marion had hailed a taxi to go to the railway station and she said I think that I have seen the same building three time. They had to say something. But he didn’t get anxious then, in fact he sort of chuckled and smiling he told the taxi driver that he was a rogue and paid him half the fare that he had asked for when they finally arrived at the station. But that was thirty years ago and now he was alone. That was the difference. That was worlds ago and a lot of luck had flowed under the bridge since then. He tapped his pockets again and yes his wallet and passport were still there so he told himself to relax, sit back and take in the experience. The silence was broken.

What is your name Sir?

Eliot

They were stopped at another set of traffic lights and the silence was heavy but then Pintu was talking over his left shoulder.

We are very pleased to be meeting you Mr Eliot. We are being taxi drivers in Kolkata for a long time and we will be helping you when you are staying in our city. If you are happy then we be happy too Mr. Eliot.

Oh I am sure that is true Eliot said to himself. I will do my best to look happy all of the time, even when I’m tired and lost in Kolkata at almost two o’clock in the morning. Even when I don’t know whether to trust you two gentlemen. Then it occurred to him that the word Pintu could make everyone happy.

Do you know that Pintu in Bahasa Indonesian means door.

It was a good thing to say, the right thing at the right time because this piece of information got a better reaction than expected. As they all laughed he suddenly felt that the outcome of his little journey through the dark streets of Kolkata seemed much more likely to end with a positive outcome.

Yes, I am the door of Kolkata for you. Where are you coming from, Mr Eliot?

Australia.

Oh, Australia. We are liking this place very much and maybe one day we are being very lucky and rich enough to visit your country with our wives and children if our thieving boss he would be treating us properly.

Kangaroos , and Sydney and Michael Clarke! Pintu and Ravi were animated and laughing now and all of a sudden they were not Bollywood villains, but two hard working men family men with many children who had no ill intention towards him. In an instant they had become fellow human beings just getting through their long day trying to make a rupee. Every few moments Pintu took his eyes of the road so that he could smile at Eliot.

Now all that Eliot wished for was that Pintu would keep his eye on the road and find The Emperor Residency.

After a short silence Ravi made the pronouncement that the Australian cricket team was very good.

Yeh, not bad, but I think that if we played India today you would probably win.

Thank you Mr. Eliot. You are our Australian friend and if you are happy we are happy Mr. Eliot.

Thank you very much Ravi. Are we getting close to the hotel?

Oh yes, certainly we are just making a turn here and a turn there and soon you will be putting your head down on the pillow, won’t he Pintu?

As sure as Shane Warne was the greatest spin bowler in the world Mr. Eliot.

Everyone laughed and even if they weren’t any closer to the Emperor Residency Hotel it didn’t seem to matter quite so much for the moment. But that moment didn’t last for long. Pintu began to slow the taxi down and up ahead near a street lamp through the dust and pollution haze, in the middle of the road at a T intersection, they saw a group of men and as they got closer he could see these men more clearly, they were definitely intent on blocking their way. Eliot could feel it in his bones that this group of men spelt trouble.

What are these men doing Pintu?

You are not to be worrying Mr. Eliot, Pintu and Ravi are knowing how to be handling this situation.

Ok

The headlights slowly brought the men out of the murk and Eliot could see that they were dressed as police officers and this added to his apprehension. As the taxi came to a halt he saw that the police officers were in a loose huddle and each was holding a lathi-stick. Something didn’t look right. Pintu lit another cigarette

What are they doing?

There is nothing to worry about Mr. Eliot.

The taxi came to a stop about ten metres from the huddle and the group of police officers all stared at the taxi and so Pintu wound his window right down and rested his arm on the window sill and now the officers approached the taxi, six of them and Pintu could have reached out and touched the nearest one . One officer bent over and peered into the back seat. Pintu spoke first.

Saṛaka banda hōgayāhai kyōṅkiāpa isa taraha sēpārita nahīṁkara sakatē.

Eliot watched the swaying belligerence of the police officers with growing alarm and guessed now why this could spell trouble because even in the back seat he could smell the alcohol on their breath. They were all quite drunk. The officers continued to circle the taxi. Then one of them said something to Pintu and waved his arm in the direction that they had come from and it seemed obvious that they were ordering Pintu to turn around, that for some reason they had collectively got into their head, that this taxi was not going to be allowed to pass. Pintu spoke back and Eliot thought that the delivery and tone suggested that he believed that with a little bit of intelligent and articulate discourse and a touch of belligerence in return, these police officers could be made to change their mind.

Pintu might have been a man of Kolkata but he was to soon learn that he was wrong. After a number of what seemed to be circular exchanges the group of officers came closer to Pintu and it looked like they were trying to give the impression that they were performing their duty, keeping the peace. Even the one with his fly undone. Special would know that trouble was only seconds away. He had certainly experienced the sad results that came to be when alcohol and authority came together.

Then there was a signal that Pintu did not pick up. The officers who were smoking threw their cigarettes away and as they came even closer to Pintu, it became clear to Eliot what was about to happen and time seemed to blur, travel very slowly and as he yelled a warning, the officers raised their lathi–sticks, their faces theatrical in their hostility under yellow street lights and they began to strike the car in a frenzy.

The metallic ring floated through the deserted streets. It were the blows that struck Pintu on his arm which was resting on the window sill that made him howl and convinced him and Ravi that they should definitely turn their vehicle around and head back to where they had come from, just as the officers had demanded.

Eliot felt a confusion of feeling. In one way he felt better because without a doubt he and Pintu and Ravi were now, like a brotherhood, but Kolkata was a dangerous place early in the morning, a place where those who were supposed to be protecting you might be intent on trying to give you a good thrashing and where you might come across some bad luck.

Are you OK Pintu? How is your arm?

Yes, thank you Mr. Eliot, I am fine.

There was a short silence and the Pintu spoke again.

These police are being bastards and tell me that I must be immediately proceeding to where I came from. I can smell that they have been drinking very much alcohol. All police in India are bastards Mr Eliot. We live in a very corrupt country Mr Eliot but our rotten useless government, they are doing nothing about it except to put their hands out and then be putting them full back inside their pocket.

Eliot couldn’t decide how to respond so they continued on in silence. In this silence he thought that they were probably no closer to the Emperor Residency than they were minutes ago and glancing at his mobile phone he saw that it was after two am and the tiredness from a long day was beginning to become a little overwhelming. He couldn’t help but think that on Fridays he once sat on the couch with Marion and watched a movie and sometimes the football. He wondered if the offer could be made to somehow immediately transport him to back to his living room, alone as he would be, would he accept it? Would he swap the back seat of this taxi in Kolkata for the safety of the couch at Grange Apartments? He could hear Eleanor say that India was a dangerous place, that you could come home forever changed. No he wouldn’t go home, he said loud enough to be heard. This was a new journey, a new time and now he must make the most of it.

The taxi was travelling a little faster now. At first it seemed that they were just retracing their journey but then the streets seemed new and he thought that nothing he saw he had seen before and the taxi came to a halt. Ravi got out of the taxi and crossed the road where three men were squatting behind a wood fire under a mettle brazier and the smell of chai wafted across the road. Then there was a lot of pointing with extended arms and turning of heads as they all lit up a cigarette and Ravi looked across at the taxi and the four men all smiled.

You want a chai, Mr. Eliot?

Somehow it seemd a silly decision in the circumstances but he said yes and soon they were travelling again all of them with a pottery cup of chai in hand.

We are thinking that now we know where your Emperor Residency is Mr. Eliot. My cousin back there, he says that this one is a new hotel, or maybe just a new name.

I hope you are right, Ravi because I am so tired.

Yes, you should arrive in Kolkata in the day time and maybe this one would not be a problem.

He rested his head back on the seat and he told himself that he was past worrying about this night. He was sure that they would all be happy soon. He felt exhausted, when from behind his closed eyes he felt the taxi slow and swerve to the left. Could it be possible? Yes, the taxi was slowing and pulling into the kerb beside a high brick wall. There it was, written quite clearly on the wall: Emperor Residency Hotel Block B6. He couldn’t wait to get out of the taxi.

Ring the night bell Mr. Eliot and I am getting your bags.

The bell was rung and Eliot stood there in hope. After about a minute the high wrought iron gate in the wall opened and a young man said you are coming very late Mr. Wilson and then grabbed the backpack and the red rolling case and disappeared inside. At this moment Eliot just wanted to be in his room, sit on the end of his bed and know that he was, at last, there. Both Pintu and Ravi came and stood on the footpath. In his head Eliot was wrestling with the likely fare and he remembered Jalal telling him that he must not pay more than 600 rupees for the taxi from the airport. They will ask for more he said, but you must be firm. In reality, it was very late at night and there was the matter of the circuitous route and also the dodgy Police Officers.

Thank you Pintu and Ravi for bringing me here safely and I’m sorry abou the police back there.How much do I owe you?

No problems Mr. Eliot. The fare, it is 1500 rupees Mr. Eliot. We have taken you very far tonight

How much?

The amount is 1500 rupees.

What!........you’re jokng!

Immediately he wished that he hadn’t said this. It’s not going to break me is it? I just need to lay my head on the pillow. But still he couldn’t hold his tongue.

You are very expensive Pintu.

No, no Mr. Eliot, you are being our friend from Australia and if you are happy then we are happy Mr. Eliot and you are happy because you find your hotel. We have been having a long time finding your hotel.

Ok , Ok, no problem Pintu.

Eliot counted out the money, exactly 1500 rupees and handed the notes to Pintu.

You will be going where tomorrow?’

He knew without consideration that it was a case of the devil you know and if you had asked him in the morning he would say that he sort of liked Pintu and Ravi. They were like brothers, and may be they were, with a big head and a small head and their smiles were worldly and friendly and they said trust us so he would and it would be nice to see someone again in the morning who you sort of knew. Not like Carol and Ragini who had just passed by and were probably gone for ever.

I have to go back to the airport in the morning. I have a 1.30pm flight to Varanasi.

Then we will be taking you Mr. Eliot because you are our friend from Australia. We are tired too. We will be seeing you in the morning. I am thinking 10.30am.

His luggage was waiting him in the small foyer of the hotel.

Please follow me Mr. Wilson.

They climbed two flights of stairs and on the second floor there was a small sitting room and two dining settings and from here he had access to his bedroom. The man unlocked the bedroom door and pushed it open.

This one is your room Mr. Wilson. I hope that you will be liking it. We will serve breakfast here from 7.30am.

Thank you, the room looks great.

The young man put down the backpack and red rolling case next to the double bed and then he closed the curtains across the window and the double glass doors that looked out onto a small balcony. He opened the door of the bathroom and poked his head in for a second. He turned on the air conditioner and left it on and turned on the TV and then turned it off. He was finished. Eliot thanked him and he left.

Eliot kicked off his thongs and noticed his bandaged toe. He lay back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He was there and he told himself that he had done ok, no serious mishaps, no Special moments. He had kept the monkey in his head quiet except maybe for a couple of occasions in the taxi but that might have happened to anyone and he had maintained his equilibrium for most of the time, only disturbed by the fat Sikh on flight AHK 417. He had done it without Marion too and he said I can keep doing this.

He reached across the bed and dragged his small backpack towards him. He unzipped the small front pocket and took out the envelope. The envelope that he had put away , the letter that he had read once and because it made him cry, he had chosen not to read again .The letter that he had taken from the bedside drawer and put in the front pocket of his small backpack just before Louise picked him up to drive him to the airport. Now he needed to read it. He opened the envelope.

Dear Eliot,

You know that you are so special to me and I think that I am lucky to have spent most of my life with you. When I have gone, value every day. Move on. Look to the future and do me proud by choosing the next stage in your life and by making it count.

With all my love

Marion xx

He put down the letter and tiredness had its arms around him and the letter made him feel melancholy. He had seen enough in life to know how lucky he had been. Those words had made him feel positive too, here was the permission to start a new life. He could never be without her but this was his journey. A good night’s sleep was what he needed now and then he would be ready for tomorrow. He lay on his back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. The air conditioner was starting to kick in, his neck was cool so he sat up and untied his ponytail and then the customary shake of his head and his hair fell over his shoulders. The idea jumped into his head like it had always being hiding somewhere inside there and what jumped into his head would be something that he would do in the morning, when the morning was still quite young.