Private Lives

Anna gave a loud cough.

‘The less said about him the better, I think.’

‘Well what about since then?’

Anna pulled a face. ‘Not much, I’m afraid. I really don’t have the time.’

‘Well I have to say that’s a real shame,’ said Sam, fixing her with his blue eyes.

Anna felt her mouth go dry. What was he saying?

‘A shame?’ she said. ‘Why?’

‘I was thinking of setting you up with Martin.’ He grinned.

She threw a cushion at him.

‘Right, that’s it, I’m going to sleep,’ she said, reaching for her sleep mask. ‘Wake me up when we’re in Paradise.’

Kerala wasn’t quite Paradise, but it wasn’t far off. The landscape was lush and tropical, dense jungle pressing in on every side as their air-conditioned taxi drove along the snaking roads from Cochin airport towards the resort town of Alappuzha. Refreshed from her nap in the jet, Anna peered out of the car window, fascinated by the countryside. She had expected the dusty, impoverished India she’d read about, but Kerala was as vibrant as the vegetation. The lime green of crops as they passed a tea plantation, the bright canary yellow of a sari or the posies of scarlet blossom. The villages they passed through were small but well kept, the houses neat and painted white, children in pressed school uniforms waving as they passed. It felt like the Garden of Eden, only with added Coca-Cola signs.

Finally they arrived at Alappuzha, a busy tourist town on the south-east coast criss-crossed by miles of backwaters, all leading down to a long strip of yellow beach and a rickety pier that jutted out into the shimmering Arabian Sea.

‘Wow, look at the lighthouse,’ said Anna, pointing to the red and white striped tower on the headland. ‘This place is lovely.’

‘Remember why we’re here, Judith Chalmers,’ said Sam as they paused at a crossing, watching the backpackers in shorts and flip-flops strolling up the main drag. ‘Louise Allerton could be any of these. It’s a long way to come to look for someone then get distracted by the scenery.’

Anna nodded. ‘Sea View Hotel it is, then. Pronto.’

The Sea View Hotel was salmon pink, with crumbling balustrades and flaking paint. It didn’t have a sea view, or indeed a view of anything except the back of a warehouse selling agricultural supplies.

‘You’d better stay here,’ she said, getting out of the cab. After the cool of the taxi, it was an almost physical shock, and she could feel herself beginning to perspire on the spot.

‘Why?’ said Sam, frowning. ‘I want to play detective.’

‘Because it’s a hotel full of backpackers who will almost certainly recognise you. The last thing we want is a tip-off to the Sun that you’re in Kerala.’

‘So? I could be here for a spa holiday.’

‘Not in this part of town,’ she said, glancing around. ‘And by the looks of it, this is the sort of place that rents beds by the hour.’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But if I hear any shooting, I’m not waiting for the cops.’

‘My hero,’ she laughed.

The guest house had probably seen better days, or perhaps it had always been dirty and cramped, with the faint smell of patchouli permeating the air. There were a few young Europeans lounging around the lobby drinking tea from little glasses, their rucksacks by their feet, but apart from that, the Sea View was quiet. Anna walked up to the reception, where a wizened Indian man in a faded smiley-face T-shirt was sitting. He gazed at her without interest, until she produced a thousand-rupee note and placed it on the desk.

‘I help you?’ he said, not taking his eyes off the money.

‘I’m looking for a white English girl, name of Louise Allerton. She stayed here six months ago.’

The man reached towards the money, but Anna pulled it back an inch. Finally he looked up at her.

‘Lots of English come here. I don’t remember names.’

‘Don’t you have a hotel register?’

The man gave a ghost of a smile.