‘Goodbye, Mrs. Dilshaw,’ I call over my shoulder and start walking towards the gate. The old man lets me out. I step outside and he immediately padlocks the gate. The mother is still waiting at the front door. I wave at her. She does not wave back. I thank the old man and I start walking down the road.
I walk on until I reach the edge of wall to their property. Then, praying for an absence of guard dogs, I climb over their neighbor’s wall and drop into their garden. I run along the wall that separates the two properties until I am about halfway down, where I estimate Snow’s back garden to be on the other side.
I put my hands on the top of the wall, pull myself up and over, and drop into the springy, perfectly manicured grass of Mrs. Dilshaw’s garden. Twenty feet away I can see Snow gently rocking on the covered swing. There is an open book in her lap, but she is staring at a far away spot on the horizon. She is wearing some kind of breezy Indian costume with a long soft-green top and trousers in the same material. Her hair is down her back in a one long plait.
She looks vulnerable and lost.
I stand watching her with an ache in my chest, and I remember a National Geographic documentary of two elephants reuniting after a separation of twenty years. Since they did not know how the elephants would react, they let them meet in a barn with a thick metal gate between them. The younger strong elephant put its trunk through the gaps in the bar and stroked and hugged the other elephant, but such was their desire to get closer that they bent solid metal.
That is what I felt like at that moment.
I could bend metal to get to her. To hug and press her body to mine and never let go. I want to carry her off to my hotel room and claim her all over again, but I don’t do that. Her mother’s words are still fresh in my mind. For her sake I must be mindful that the culture here is different. I am a foreigner. A white man. I don’t want to embarrass her. I don’t know what she has told them about me. I take a few more steps towards her, but she doesn’t see me. She is totally lost in her own world.
‘Hello stranger,’ I call out.
She nearly jumps out of her skin, the book falling to the grass, her hands rushing up to clutch her chest. Our eyes meet. Hers are as round and shining as a startled cat’s. Then a look of such wild joy rushes into them that the desire to throw her on the grass and take her is almost unbearable.
Her mouth opens. ‘What … Why …Why are you here?’ she stammers.
I take a step towards her. ‘Guess.’
She shakes her head as if in disbelief. ‘How did you find me?’
I shrug and go closer still. ‘I saw your passport while we were in France remember? Besides, Elizabeth Dilshaw is not a hard name to find in India.’
‘But how did you get in here?’
‘I scaled your neighbor’s wall and jumped into your compound.’
‘You did what?’
‘What’s so surprising about that?’ I grin. ‘Technically speaking, I’ve climbed mountains and crossed seas to get to you.’
She doesn’t smile. ‘You can’t fight Lenny. I don’t want you to, Shane.’
‘I’m not starting a war with Lenny.’
‘But he will hurt you if he finds out.’
‘Lenny’s taken care of,’ I say shortly.
Her eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘What do you mean?’
I shrug casually. ‘He’s given us his blessing.’
She stares at me. ‘That can’t be. Lenny would never give his blessing to us.’
‘You have my word that it is true.’
She frowns. ‘How can that be? I know him. I’ve seen him in action. Even Jake warned you how vindictive he can be.’
‘Tsk, tsk, you been listening at doors again,’ I say lightly.
‘Did you do something to him?’ she asks urgently.
I walk up to her and get down on my haunches in front of her. I take her soft small hands in mine. ‘I didn’t hurt him if that is what you are asking. Let’s just say that he and I have an understanding.’
She frowns. ‘You make it sound so easy. It couldn’t have been. The Lenny I know is very vindictive. He enjoys hurting people.’