I stand there, my fingers gripping the metal bars as I look into the compound. The year I have been away is like a fantasy I created in my head. Nothing has really changed. What happened in the hotel room was just a nightmare. Lenny is part of that nightmare. And Shane, he is just an impossible dream.
Of course, I could never have a man like him. I just conjured him up.
I look at the green, perfectly manicured lawn, the perfectly straight flowerbeds, and as I am standing there blankly, Kupu, the gardener, comes into the garden with a hose pipe. At first he doesn’t see me. Then he looks up and does a double take. His jaw drops open in surprise and then he starts running towards me.
‘Snow, Snow,’ he shouts happily.
And for a moment my sad heart lifts. I love Kupu. This is my real family. Kupu, Chitra, and Vijaya, our cook. I have missed them. With shaking hands, he unlocks the padlock from a set of keys dangling from his tattered belt.
He opens the gate and I walk through.
He puts his palms together in a prayer gesture. His rheumy eyes are wet.
‘How’ve you been?’ I ask in Tamil.
‘I’m so glad you’ve come home. It’s not been the same without you,’ he replies sadly.
‘How is Papa and Mummy?’
‘Your papa is lonely. He’s lost a lot of weight, but he won’t go to the doctor. He spends all his time in his room watching TV.’ He drops his voice to a whisper. ‘Your brother is home.’
I sigh. ‘Thank you for the warning.’ I touch his skinny, wrinkled arm. ‘I’ll see you later, OK?’
His hands come out to grasp my hand tightly. ‘All right, child. Don’t worry, God sees everything.’
And I just want to burst into tears. God didn’t see anything. He let it all happen.
I turn away and walk up the short driveway to the portico of the house. My father’s car is in the garage. I open the intricately carved, heavy Balinese doors, and I am standing in the cool interior of my family home. But for the emptiness inside me, it is like I have never left. I walk further into the room and my brother pops his head around the side of the couch, sees me, and raises himself onto his elbow.
‘Well, well, the prodigal daughter returns,’ he says sarcastically.
I walk closer. He is flipping through a sports magazine and eating monkey nuts. He puts the magazine down. ‘Are you back for good?’
I nod.
‘Why?’
I shrug. ‘Just wanted to.’
His eyes glint with malice. ‘The streets of London are not paved with gold after all, eh?’
‘They are paved with the same gold as the streets of Kansas City,’ I retort.
He looks at me with irritation. ‘That was not my fault. Americans are just stupid.’
‘Really, all Americans?’
‘Yes, they are all as stupid as you are,’ he says, cracking a nut and lifting the pod over his mouth, letting them fall in.
My brother will never change. He will always be peeing on other people’s heads. I watch him chew. ‘Where’s Papa?’
‘Where do you think?’
There is no point in talking to my brother. The longer I stay the more likely it is that we will end up in a huge argument. I turn away from him and start walking towards the stairs.
‘Hey, you never said, what happened to your big dreams of becoming a teacher in England?’
‘Who told you that?’