Читать книгу Max O'Brien Mysteries 3-Book Bundle - Mario Bolduc - Страница 32

Juliette and Vandana fell into each other’s arms and then set off for coffee and a chat, the way Juliette had done so often with David. Before leaving for India, they’d lived at the Somerset in the Glebe district, an apartment block swarming with Western members of Parliament when it was in session. The rest of the time, it housed wandering diplomats. A life that was reminiscent of, David liked to say, being “young” again. She was right. He would never get old.

“Mr. Bernatchez asked me to come with him,” Vandana explained, “For the conference …”

She had said too much, and regretted it. But Juliette smiled. “No, no, I understand. You don’t need to feel bad because you’re standing in for him. Anyhow, you’re better off here than there at the moment, aren’t you?”

Vandana’s face clouded over, and there was a long silence before she said, “The people running my country have gone completely crazy.”

They’re firing mortars all along the Line of Control, she explained, killing the usual innocent victims: a young woman and five civilians in Garkhal, thirty kilometres from Jammu. At Naugam, in southwestern Srinagar, an Islamist militant was killed by Indian soldiers. It was the same on the Pakistani side — civilians caught in the crossfire, and the media were mostly watching Kazakhstan in the former USSR, especially the city of Almaty, where the regional summit on Asian security was being held. Atal Vajpayee and Perez Musharraf were the stars right now, of course. They alone out of the sixteen heads of state could stop this war.

Talking international politics is her way to keep from crying about David, thought Juliette. Besides, she was glad to see her friend, whom she’d always liked. In Delhi, the young woman had been the first one to visit their home in Maharani Bagh and set Iqbal straight before he stepped too far out of place (“Domestics expect to be treated as such. Otherwise, they think we actually don’t respect them.”). Juliette had balked at that, coming from a background where equality was the rule, and she was finding it hard to adjust to a country where inequality was the basis of society. Vandana often guided the couple around the mohallas and government stores on the weekends. She was able to deflate some of the rug merchants’ usual self-assurance, and furniture salesmen used the division key on their calculators more often. David and Juliette had managed to save a lot of money because of her.

Later, at Jawaharlal Nehru University, Juliette had relied on her to correct her Hindi pronunciation. Vandana was the first to tell them about the similarities and common roots between Hindi and French. Both of them were derived from the mythical Indo-European language, which in India had become Sanskrit, thence to the Mediterranean Basin and Greek, Latin, and so on … Two, seven, nine, ten. Do, saat, nau, das.

“Few oppose the war. For a peace march in New Delhi,” she explained, “four hundred people are nothing. And we’re in the homeland of Mahatma Gandhi!”

Major/great + soul (âme) = large soul.

Maha + Atma = Mahatma.

“Meanwhile, embassies lie empty now: Iran, Israel, South Korea …” There was no hiding Vandana’s disgust. “The leaders of the BJP really want to sock it to the Pakistanis.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kathmandu?” Juliette asked.

That startled Vandana, though she was expecting it sooner or later. She lowered her eyes. “I don’t know. To protect David, I suppose, or rather myself. When I found out he’d lied, I was afraid.” Her eyes were moist as she looked up at Juliette. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know.”

Juliette took her hand for reassurance. No one dear to her heart should feel responsible for David’s death. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Vandana, not a thing.” Then she said, “I’m pregnant. ‘A new universe created out of the ruins of the old,’ is how to see it, according to the Mahabharata.”

Vandana seemed happy, and she grabbed Juliette’s hand and squeezed it. Then, not able to bear it, she turned away. “They’ve arrested Max O’Brien. Bernatchez told me just after I landed.”

Yet again, the world collapsed around Juliette’s head.