The Road Back

by Liz Harris

  The Major was sitting in the centre of the room, his chair facing the front door, and his foot resting on the low table. A strong stick was propped up against his chair.

  ‘You’ve moved your chair round, Father!’ she exclaimed, coming into the room. ‘And you’re wearing a sandal on your foot!’ Her heart sank. ‘You had cloths wrapped around it when we left.’

  ‘Which was a long time ago, a very long time ago. After you’d left, I sat outside for some time, but the wind got too much for me and I had to come in. I hadn’t realised that I was going to be left alone for quite so long. I’d rather assumed that you would be back for tea, or that Wangyal would look in on me, but it seems that I was wrong on both counts.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Father. But as you said, the weather suddenly changed. One minute there was sun, the next there was a horrendous hurricane. It was terrifying. We were out on the exposed plateau, completely unprotected. We had to find shelter as quickly as possible and stay there until the wind had died down – no one could have walked in it, it just wasn’t safe.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he said irritably.

  Kalden stepped forward. ‘Wind also in Alchi. I go and see if Wangyal back from Alchi, Major-le. If he back, he bring you tea now. If he not here, I bring tea.’

  ‘Thank you, Kalden. You may then go back to your house. Tomorrow you and Patricia will be taking your last walk alone. The sprain was less serious than it first seemed, and the amchi’s medicine was excellent. I’m happy to tell you that my foot is now much better.’

  ‘That’s excellent news, Father!’ She forced herself to look happier than she felt.

  ‘Indeed, it is. Tomorrow I shall walk a little in the village, building upon the exercise that I’ve taken today, and after that I shall be fit for action once again. Perhaps you would plan a short walk for us all for the day after tomorrow, Kalden, bearing in mind that I should not attempt too much too quickly.’

  ‘That very good news, Major-le. I go now to Wangyal.’ He glanced at Patricia. ‘Patricia-le, I come to you tomorrow after breakfast. We go to the gompa at Rizong that you want to see. I ask Wangyal to give us food for lunch.’

  ‘Thank you, Kalden. That sounds ideal,’ she said.

  With a massive effort, she turned back to her father, forcing herself not to watch Kalden until he’d disappeared from sight. She put a bright smile on her face. ‘That’s excellent news about your foot. I’m very much looking forward to us all being together again.’

  ‘I, too, Patricia,’ he said, looking gratified. ‘And I’m pleased to note that Kalden has been showing you some of Ladakh’s culture. You’ll enjoy seeing the painted blocks at the monastery tomorrow which depict the main events in the life of Buddha.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I still recall the effect they had on me when I saw them in 1945.’

  ‘I know. I remember you writing about them in your book – that’s why I told Kalden that I’d like to see them.’

  ‘Now, I suggest that while we wait for our tea, we look at the map and make a list of the places of interest that we want to see before our visit ends. Obviously, you’ve already visited some of the places on our original list, but there will still be plenty left for us to see together.’ He leaned forward and picked up the folded map from the table in front of him. ‘Pull up a chair and help me to open the map.’

  As she dragged a chair over to her father, she surreptitiously glanced at her watch and tried to work out how many hours it would be before she saw Kalden again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  August

  Patricia sat on the wooden chair in the downstairs room, her rucksack at her feet. She could hear the sound of her father moving around in the room above her as he packed for the overnight trip to the high pasture. She sighed inwardly. He’d soon be down, probably at about the same time as Kalden arrived, and then they’d set off. And as with every other day since her father had started coming out with them again, she and Kalden wouldn’t have any time by themselves.

  Several times in the first few days after her father had starting joining them on their trips again, she’d come very close to telling him how she and Kalden felt about each other, but she’d always stopped short at the last minute. Her every instinct, born out of years of living with her father and getting to know the way in which he thought, made her suspect that he might be horrified at the idea of a relationship between his daughter and someone who came from a world so different from theirs.

  However, she’d finally decided that she needed to take the first step towards introducing him to the idea of her being in love with Kalden, and one evening she’d hesitantly suggested that they ask Kalden to share their meal the following evening.

  ‘He’s a pony-man,’ he’d told Patricia sharply. ‘He’s a pleasant man and a useful companion on our trips in that he’s well-versed in the flora and fauna of the area, but he’s essentially an uneducated man. One doesn’t invite people like that to the dinner table.’

  She’d swiftly turned away to stop her eyes from revealing the anger she felt, and the sudden fear.

  Any lingering thoughts she’d entertained about telling her father that she and Kalden were in love had disappeared in that moment, and she’d settled for making the most of the few moments together that she and Kalden could snatch. Being able to walk along next to him, to think about him and to know that he was thinking about her, was better than nothing – it made her feel alive, made her feel loved. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was all that they could safely have.

  The thud of something falling on the upstairs floor cut into her thoughts. It was followed by an exclamation of annoyance. Her father must be making heavy weather of packing his things, even though this was the second overnight trip that they’d undertaken since his foot had been better, and their first one had been much more ambitious than this.

  Their first overnight trip had lasted for three days.

  ‘My foot is clearly back to normal,’ the Major had announced one evening at the end of a visit to Alchi. He’d held out his leg and flexed his foot. ‘We’ve been limiting ourselves to day trips for long enough now, and I feel that I’m ready for the challenge of going further afield.’

  ‘This is good, Major-le. You want me plan a trip that takes two days?’

  ‘I think we can be more ambitious than that, don’t you? There are three places that I’d like to visit: the derelict fort at Basgo, the large monastery at Likir – I’m particularly interested in seeing the collection of arms and armour there – and the painted caves at Saspol. Bad weather prevented me from visiting the caves in ’45, and I’d like to redress this. I rather suspect that we’re looking at something a little longer than a two-day trip.’

  Kalden had nodded. ‘That is so, Major-le.’

  Two days later, they’d set out on a three-day trek. First they’d skirted the edge of the high ground to the east of Alchi, then they’d crossed the plateau and headed down into the valley of the Indus.

  ‘I’ll always hate these bridges,’ Patricia said, eyeing the high suspension bridge that hung above the Indus. ‘I wish there was another way round, but I know there isn’t.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, Patricia,’ the Major said, and he rode up to the bridge, and dismounted, waiting for Kalden.

  Kalden smiled reassuringly at her. ‘I be near you, Patricia. You be safe. You always be safe when I with you.’

  Once he’d reached the other bank with the ponies, Kalden steadied the rope handrails for the Major to cross, and then indicated that Patricia should start to walk over the bridge. She put a hand on each of the ropes, stepped on to the wooden base and made her way steadily to the opposite bank, her eyes straight ahead of her.

  The Major nodded with satisfaction when she reached him. ‘Well done, Patricia.’

  They’d got back on their ponies and picked up the trail to Basgo.

  Their journey had taken them along a path that was roughly parallel with the Indus. At one point, they’d passed a group of monks in red robes
coming towards them and Patricia’s eyes had met Kalden’s. Both had swiftly turned back to the sandy landscape around them.

  They’d camped overnight on gound at the foot of the village of Basgo, which towered on a cliff above them, the ruins of its ancient citadel dominating the skyline, and the following morning they’d spent a couple of hours wandering among the temples and the broken walls of the fort and towers. They’d then set off for Likir.

  ‘Is the monastery actually in the village itself?’ Patricia had asked Kalden as they rode a little way behind her father over the rocky ground that was taking them away from Basgo.

  ‘No, monastery is outside village. We go through village and take path to monastery. Is not very far. There is much to see in monastery. Many weapons and big clay statues of Buddha. I think everything be very interesting for Major-le.’ Patricia glanced at him, and they grinned at each other. Their spirits lifting, they’d urged their ponies forward and caught up with the Major.

  An hour after they’d passed through Likir, they reached the monastery, a cluster of white buildings dominated by a large statue of Buddha. They got down from their ponies, and the Major took a few steps forward and stood staring up at the statue. Patricia threw a hopeful glance at Kalden.

  Giving her a quick smile, he went up to the Major. ‘Patricia-le looks very tired Major-le. Perhaps should have short rest. I can stay with her.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea, Father,’ Patricia said, going over to them. ‘I do feel quite tired and I wouldn’t want to hold you up – there’s a lot for you to see here.’

  ‘By all means, have a rest if you wish,’ the Major said. ‘But I shall take Kalden with me. I may need help with some translation.’

  She hadn’t needed to look at Kalden’s face to know that he felt as disappointed as she did.

  ‘I’ll come with you, and try to keep up,’ she’d said.

  Their final overnight stop had been at Saspol. The Major had seemed quite tired on the journey to Saspol, and they’d frequently stopped to rest. Several times he’d appeared to be asleep, and Patricia had moved to Kalden’s side, or he had moved to hers, but on each occasion the Major had suddenly sprung into life and asked for an explanation of something that had caught his eye or remarked upon something that had just occurred to him.

  As soon as they’d reached the painted caves, their final destination, the Major had placed himself between Patricia and Kalden. All they’d been able to do was look helplessly at each other as they’d slowly progressed through the thirteenth century rock-cut temples, listening to the Major talk at length about the brightly coloured miniatures of the Buddhist deities depicted on the walls.

  When they’d finished looking at the paintings, and had spent several minutes staring at the beautiful view of the Indus Valley that opened out from the caves, they’d trekked back to the post house, where the Major had declared himself completely satisfied with every aspect of the journey.

  The following day, still excited by the success of the trip, he’d asked Kalden if it would be possible for them to visit the high pasture used by his family. Kalden had said that it would, and they’d decided to give themselves a few days’ rest, and then to go up into the mountains, and stay the night there.

  Later that same morning, when Patricia was talking to Kalden in front of the post house while they were waiting for the Major to join them on a short stroll through the village, Kalden had quietly told her that he thought that the Major suspected there might be something between them. He’d started to notice that whenever he and Patricia began a conversation, the Major would interrupt them and draw him to one side. It was happening so often that he was beginning to think that it couldn’t be a coincidence.

  ‘You’re mistaken,’ Patricia had assured him. ‘Father would never be able to keep silent about such a thing. If he thought there was anything going on, he would say so. And he wouldn’t have suggested another overnight trip.’

  ‘I hope you right, Patricia.’

  ‘I am. If he’s behaving as you say he is, it’ll be because he’s the sort of man who expects to be the centre of attention at all times. This means that he’s the one who’s always got to be talking or be the person spoken to. I bet that even when he’s asleep, his antennae quiver if anyone else is given attention,’ she’d added with a laugh.

  With the aid of her hands and arms, she’d managed to explain the meaning of antennae, and Kalden had laughed with her, but his eyes had been anxious as he’d glanced towards the post house.

  Since that day, she’d watched her father and seen for herself that he did, indeed, draw Kalden aside if she was talking to him, and she’d begun to wonder if Kalden could have been right after all.

  If her father did suspect something, but hadn’t warned her about it, it could be a sign that he was prepared to look kindly upon her relationship with Kalden, and she’d been wondering again whether to tell him that she loved Kalden. In the end, she’d decided to wait until she was more certain about how he’d react. In the meantime, they must avoid doing anything to make him suspicious, if he were not already so.

  The sounds coming from upstairs told her that her father had finished putting the things he’d need into his rucksack. He’d now be pulling on the shoes that he’d cleaned before going to bed, and then he’d come on down and tell them all what to do. She leaned forward, folded the flap over her rucksack, pulled the cord tightly and sat back in her chair.

  Domineering, that’s what her father was. She’d never before seen it quite as clearly as she could see it now.

  From as far back as she could remember, she’d blamed his strictness and distance from her on his misery about James. She’d understood his grief. He was her father, and she loved him and felt for him. But deep down she’d always hoped that one day he’d see her for the good daughter she strove to be.

  First as a child, and then in her teenage years, she’d been the best daughter she could, and she was certain that he’d finally come to appreciate her and that theirs was a strong relationship. But was it strong enough to survive the knowledge that she had fallen in love with a man he wouldn’t invite to the dinner table? Of that she wasn’t sure.

  In the clear light of day, and with a clarity of vision given her by her love for Kalden, she could see now that the passage of years filled with sadness and frustration – sadness about James and a situation he was powerless to change, and frustration that he was trapped in a peacetime job that he hated – had turned her father into a rather selfish, self-centred man, a man who was rigid and unbending to those around him, a man who thought he always knew best.

  But he was still her father and she loved him, and she didn’t like doing something behind his back that might one day add to the grief that the past had already heaped upon him. And upon her mother.

  She glanced around the room, and her eyes came to rest on a piece of blank paper lying on the table in front of her. She’d write to her mother as soon as they returned from the trip to the high pasture. It was quite a long time since she’d written; much too long, in fact. They’d be back early the following afternoon. She’d go first to visit Deki’s sister and her baby, and then she’d come back and write to her mother.

  Deki’s sister, who lived on the other side of the village in the shadow of the monastery, had just had a baby. Patricia had met her once or twice when she and Kalden had stopped at his house for a drink at a time when Deki’s sister had been visiting the family, and although they’d never done anything more than smile at each other, she thought she seemed very pleasant; and she liked what she’d seen of Deki, too.

  The previous afternoon, when Kalden had finished telling them about the arrangements for the trip, he’d mentioned that the onpo – the astrologer, he’d translated – had said that people could now start visiting Deki’s sister as her first seven days of being alone with the baby since its birth had passed, and all the signs were favourable. He was going to go and see the baby as soon as they’d returned from the phu –
the mountain pasture – and he wondered if Major-le and Patricia-le would like to go with him. His family would be there, too, he’d added.

  The Major had politely declined, saying that he was likely to be quite exhausted by the time that they returned, but he’d told Patricia that she might accompany Kalden, if she wished. He would be interested in learning about the Ladakhi customs at the time of a birth. When she came back, she would be able to relate everything she’d seen in case there was something he could use in his book.

  Soon after that, Kalden had left, telling them that he was going to arrange for gifts of butter and flour, and for the dough figurines that he and Patricia would take with them when they went to visit Deki’s sister. The Major had promptly picked up his pad and jotted that down.

  Patricia had hardly been able to sleep that night, she was so excited about the forthcoming trip. It would be the first time she’d gone with Kalden to one of his family celebrations, and even though they weren’t going there as a couple, it meant something special that they’d be going there side by side as friends.

  ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Patricia,’ the Major said, coming down the stairs. ‘My organisational skills seem to have deserted me this morning.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Father, Kalden’s not here yet.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘I take that back,’ she said with a laugh, and she jumped up. ‘That’ll be him.’

  ‘It’s very good of your brothers to allow us to stay with them, Kalden,’ the Major said as they headed across the plateau to the ravine. ‘Before we left England, I told Patricia how much I hoped to go to the phu. We’re keen to see the sorts of things that the Ladakhi do in the summer, and also to have the time to enjoy the view from such an altitude.’

  ‘Brothers happy you come, Major-le. Mother also happy. She there with brothers.’

  ‘I didn’t realise that we were to have the pleasure of meeting your mother, too. Delightful.’