Читать книгу Lucky You - John Duke - Страница 3

Eliot suddenly sat bolt upright in bed , he was wet all over. He could still hear the sound of his voice in his head, anxious and afraid. Sweat covered his body. He rolled onto his side and glanced to his right but of course there was no mountain silhouette of her body beside him, nothing to reach out to touch. The bedside clock told him that it was 3.47 am. His hair tie lay on the bedside table and he needed to get his hair away from his glistening neck. He pulled his hair back, tied it up into a ponytail and then his feet felt the coolness of the floorboards. A wave of hoplessness crept through him and his chest was heaving because he thought that he could never do it alone. He knew that he could never do it alone? How had he ever thought that he could? With all his weaknesses, those that were known and those he kept to himself. Without Marion. Why had he said yes without really thinking it through? He knew that some people were never lonely because they were too important to themselves, were able to give life meaning without others. But that wasn’t him.

In the passageway his cat brushed against his wet leg. Not now, he murmured as his breathing began to come under his control. In the kitchen he turned on the heater and filled the kettle of half a lifetime and set it on the gas flame. He needed to take his mind off his dream but he was too agitated to think clearly and go back to the day’s soduku. He reached for the remote control and he surfed the channels until he settled on Harrison Ford interfering with an IRA plot to assassinate a member of the British royal family. Soon it was just changing light and background noise and Marion overwhelmed his thoughts. It was over a year since he had become alone.

Always in his mind’s eye, Marion lay, the centrepiece of tubes and flashing monitors, her elongated fingers tapping erratically on the white sheet, her skin like parchment stretched over a frame of bones, glowing from within like a human lampshade. She said she could see rabbits, their skins on metal frames and her father was digging a shallow hole and laying a trap and then she was quiet and her eyes pierced the ceiling and then they closed. Some noises that seemed to come from her heart. Her eyes opened momentarily and she spoke and he knew that he had heard right, that she loved him and then her mouth became fixed and her teeth stared at him. At last the suffering was all over. Forty years of being together over too.

He poured himself an English Breakfast. A decision had to be made. Could he do this alone? Was this a risk that he was too old to take? The thought of which, now had him sitting awake in his living room in the middle of the night. India was an edgy place. How would he go on without her he had said. She wrote him a letter, so you can remind yourself whenever you need to. The letter said you should get on with your life Eliot, make the best of the rest of your life without me. What good is hiding alone in our apartment?

Before, years ago they had visited Varanasi together and he could still remember what she had been wearing as she stepped down the ghat to the water, her thick wavy hair and the face of trust and optimism and her brown arms and now in the moments until he sat upright in bed in a sweat, in the time that it took to have a dream, they were worshipping the goddess Ganga, there to bathe in the sacred water and improve their karma. In the heat of the morning sun they stepped down from the Ghat, wearing only an orange kashaya, into the murk and they spread their arms in front of them, stroking and floating until they reached the moorings of a colourful boat and then they clung on. In the distance smoke from the funeral pyres rose into the blue sky. They turned their heads and the steps were crowded and men spilled into the water edge and the men cupped the water in their hands, lifting it and letting it fall back into the river. Flowers and rose petal and clay dishes carrying little flames of wishes and hopes floated past.

And this morning in Varanasi, long ago in the days when they consumed each other, came to him again in his dream . Two men who were treading water close by, close enough so that Eliot could see that their eyes were deep in their skulls so that they seemed like black holes and the black holes looked at Marion who was so beautiful and because of that, vulnerable and something bad was about to happen he was sure. Marion floated on her back, tranquil, unknowing and they were coming for her, grinnning as they came closer and he shouted out to Marion but she was in her own world. Eliot turned and looked up to the steps of the ghat and shouted please help someone. In the night, in his bedroom, he heard himself shouting out. Please help someone

The cat had curled up beside him on the couch, the warmth of her fur against his boxer shorts and a soft purring began.

Sorry Elvie, don’t get too comfortable. I’m going back to bed to try again.

When he awoke in the morning light he knew that he had been in a deep sleep. He could feel Elvie’s weight on his feet. He lay on his back, his hands behind his head and thought about the day ahead with a faint dread that was always there in the hour by hour of the day. There was no lack of challenge today. Today he would meet Jalal Singh and he must decide. He went over in his mind what he had been telling himself for the past three days. He was alone too much, he was bored and no community services or bowls club or book club could do the job, no on line dating could fill the void. His training and skills made the adventure possible and time was running short because there was not much change left over from 70. All true.

In his thoughts Marion and the stealth of death and how you could never know what was waiting for you up ahead. In their youth she had encouraged him to join her and travel and work overseas and because of that experience he was still lucky, he could still travel to India. I’m going to India sounded good. But it was just him, alone. All those years, all those travels had been together and for a while with the two girls. Marion’s young fresh face, always full of optimism , the common sense and the determination. The ideas that led them somewhere special. Don’t worry, we will find a way. Now she had gone and he was always alone, but being alone in the city of his birth, in his own apartment was one matter. Being alone far from home was another.To go to India alone meant that he would have to be the person that some people had said that he was. The question floated around and around and the answer was there and then it changed and he wasn’t sure and then he said yes and he told himself he could do it.

After breakfast he put his plate and cup in the sink. These days he could do this, deal with these things later. He headed for the bathroom. After he had shaved and showered , retied his hair, as he brushed his teeth, he took in where he was on his journey, the grey that dominated the sides of his head was spreading upwards and streaking his ponytail. The sun spots on his cheeks, the hammocks of flesh that hung from under his arms, the downward pull of the two lines from his nose that dragged down his mouth so that it looked like he might never have smiled. All were testimony to the fact that his certain fate was already beginning to be etched into his body. Standing on one leg to get his underpants on was a challenge these days. He said to his reflection, you have no time to waste. He pulled a stupid face in the mirror as if to a lifelong friend, a surge of optimism filling him and he smiled . He would fight back, that’s what Marion would want him to do.

He returned to the kitchen and grabbed his shoulder bag and the piece of paper from the sideboard on which last night he had scribbled down some questions that he wanted to ask Jalal Singh. He was ready. Elvie sensed this and rubbed her body against his leg.

See you later puss. I have a train to catch. Be good and I will have a treat for you tonight, won’t I?

Eliot rubbed her behind the ears until she purred and then he headed for the front door. As he reached for the door knob there was a brisk knock and his heart missed a beat. He was almost certain he knew who it was. There were so few visitors these days and Louise had a key. He opened the door. It was her of course, almost the mirror image of the first time that she had stood in the doorway a few days after Marion had died. Brightly coloured floral print dress, red geraniums on a yellow background with a matching collar and just a hint of cleavage below a string of pearls. Her auburn hair swept to one side and held there by a bright red clasp. Sensible heeled shoes. Around her waist a belt, finger thin notched up to make the most of her figure. He had guessed then that she was probably just the wrong side of fifty. Her smile framed by bright red lipstick was real, he knew that by now.

On that first day she had said, hullo, I’m Ms. Eleanora Dobson, I have just moved into apartment 2. Eliot, isn’t it. The Ms.might have sailed over his head but it seemed that she needed to explain, so she said something like, I’m Ms. because I’m my own boss but I would be happy to share. She smiled good naturedly without a hint of embarassment. Eliot stepped back in his mind to that day. God , this is one unusual women he whispered in his head and no she wasn’t being smart or trying to be funny. That day she was holding a tupperware container full of yo yos. Today she was holding a book, clasped in fingers tipped with red nail polish.

Hi Eliot, can I come in?

When Eliot didn’t answer immediately she said,

I noticed that the library had two copies of our new book for book club so I thought why not borrow one for you and save you the trouble and expense of buying one. I’m half way through it, a whodunnit. I think you……

I’m sorry Eleanor, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have an appointment and I have to catch a train.

What kind of an appointment?

Eliot reached out for the book and she gave it to him and he dropped it into his shoulder bag.

Thanks. Must be off.

He ushered her out, shut his door, gave her a thumbs up and skipped down the stairs. Eleanor followed and when she stood outside the door of her apartment he sensed her wave and smile at the back of his head. Without turning he held up his arm and wiggled his fingers. He couldn’t say exactly what it was about her appearance and manner that annoyed him so much and set him on edge and why her cleavage should discomfort him.

Hope your appointment goes well she shouted down at him.