‘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?’
‘Mother, obviously.’
‘I see.’
‘So you couldn’t make it there then, not even as a pre-school teacher,’ he notes gleefully.
‘No, I could not make it there,’ I say dully.
‘You shouldn’t have bothered to come back here. There’s absolutely fuck all to do. And don’t start making plans to set up here forever either. I’m in the process of persuading Mother to sell this house and buy a smaller one for the three of us. I want to use the remainder of the money to set me up in a business.’
I go up the stairs and knock on my father’s door. Even from outside I can hear the TV turned up loud.
‘Who is it?’ my father growls impatiently.
I open the door and enter his room.
His bad tempered scowling face freezes for a second. Then he stands up and exclaims in shock, ‘Snow?’
Kupu is right. My father has lost a lot of weight. His face is sunken in and his shirt is hanging off him. ‘Yeah, it’s me, Papa.’
He fumbles around the low table in front of him for the TV remote. He mutes it and turns towards me eagerly. ‘When did you come?’
‘I just arrived.’
‘But why didn’t you let us know? Who picked you up from the airport? Does your mother know?’
‘I took a taxi from the airport, Dad, and no, Mum doesn’t know. It was a spur of the moment decision to come home.’
‘Are you all right?’ he asks worriedly.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ he insists, frowning. ‘I … I mean, we … have been so worried about you.’
‘Yes, Papa. As you can see I am just fine.’
He nods a few times. ‘Come in. Come in. Come and sit down with me. Are you tired? Do you want something to eat? Vijaya can make something for you.’
I go and sit down next to him. ‘No, I’m not tired. I slept on the plane and I am not hungry. Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I am all right.’ He looks at me and sighs. ‘You left a child and you have come back a woman. It is a man, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
His eyes narrow. ‘Are you pregnant?’
I shake my head.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m very sure.’
‘Thank God. Oh, thank God for that,’ he says with relief.
I find my eyes filling with tears.
‘Don’t worry, Snow. I will find you a good husband. You are young and beautiful. Many boys from good families will come for you. Don’t ever tell anyone about this man who cheated you. You know how it is. People will talk. The less they know the better.’
‘Oh, Papa. No one cheated me. And I don’t want you to find me a good husband. I promise I just need to stay here for a while and then I will get my own place and be out of your hair.’
‘Your own place? Out of my hair? What is this Western nonsense? You are my daughter and you will stay with us for as long as you are unmarried.’
‘Oh, Papa,’ I sigh.
He grabs my hand. ‘This is your home. As long as I am alive you have a home here. Nobody can kick you out.’ My father exhales loudly.
‘I’ve missed you, Papa.’
He nods slowly. ‘I’ve made a mess of everything, Snow. A horrible mess. Do you know that you could recognize and follow my voice from the time you were born? You would turn your big, green eyes and stare at me. But I didn’t have time for you. I was too busy. And for what? I lost it all anyway. Now I sit here in this little room and turn the TV up too loud and pretend to be bad-tempered so no one will come in. I’m an old fool.’
‘You’re not an old fool, Papa,’ I say sadly.
‘Yes, I am. No one will know my regrets, except me. Now go and see your mother. She will be very happy to see that you have come home.’
‘I’ll see you at dinner, OK?’
‘Yes, yes,’ he says softly.
I stand up and kiss him.
I leave my father’s room and as I am closing the door I see my mother coming down the corridor. She is dressed in a housecoat. She stops mid-step. Her eyes widen.
‘Hello, Mum.’
She recovers herself and walks up to me. A year has made no difference to her. She is as beautiful and as distant as ever.
‘You look different,’ she tells me. She stares at me. ‘Something happened to you …’
I drop my eyes.
‘Something bad,’ she says.
I inhale a quick breath and meet her inquisitive gaze. ‘Yes, but I’m fine now.’
‘Tell me what happened to you,’ she says sternly.
I shake my head. ‘Oh, Mum. You know what happened to me.’ In spite of myself my voice breaks.
‘I warned you, but you’ve always been too wild, too rebellious, too clever for your own good.’ Her tone is cold and unforgiving.
And then I see it in her face. She is not sorry for me. She is glad that I have been punished. I have acted impulsively and I have been punished.
‘Is it OK for me to live here for a while?’ I ask softly.
‘Of course. Where else would you go?’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘I’ll go and tell Vijaya to lay an extra place for you for dinner. Why don’t you go an
d have a shower and freshen up? You can fill me in later. It’s been so long since I’ve been in London.’
And then she walks away. I turn to watch her go. What have I ever done to you to make you hate me so?
I know my time here will be short. I have a little money still and I must find a way to go to the city and find a job there. I will make it on my own. I can make it on my own. I will become a pre-school teacher.
I think of Shane. He seems to belong to a different world. I wonder what he is doing now, and immediately I feel a tearing pain in my chest. I take his photo out and look at it. Are you well? Are you safe, my darling? I trace his jaw line with my finger. I stroke his body and the tears come hard.
Oh, Shane, Shane, Shane.
Thirty-six
JAKE
I enter the smoky back room of the Chili Club, and Lenny is sitting behind his desk. I close the door and he rises and comes forward.
‘How are ya?’ he asks, pumps my hand and gestures to a chair. His friendliness doesn’t disarm me or take me off my guard. Lenny and I go back many years. I know him well. He is nicest before he sticks a knife in your back.
‘Good. You?’
He turns the corners of his mouth downwards. ‘Can’t complain.’
I sit, lean back, and watch him take his seat behind the desk. He opens a silver cigarette box and holds it out to me. Technically, I’ve stopped smoking. But I still indulge once in a while. I reach out and take one. He flips open a black lighter. I lean forward and wait for the tip of my cigarette to burn cherry bright.
‘Thanks,’ I say and leaning back, inhale deeply.
He lights his own cigarette and sits back, making his chair tip back. I watch him inhale and exhale. His eyes find mine through the haze of smoke.
‘Like old times, eh?’ he says.
‘Like old times,’ I repeat. My voice is easy.
‘What do you want, Jake?’ he asks slyly.
‘My brother came to see you?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘We came to an agreement.’
I don’t show it, but deep inside I feel a flare of pride and joy. I came here thinking I’d have to bargain, threaten, and even murder if necessary, but Shane’s got it all covered. My baby brother’s grown up. He fought his own battle and won. How the fuck did he do it though?
I take a lungful of hot smoke. ‘Right. So we’re good.’
He jerks his head backwards as if even the thought of war between my family and him would never occur to him. ‘You know me. I don’t keep grudges.’
And I know why too. Because Lenny always settles the score until he’s satisfied that he has had his pound of flesh. ‘Yeah, you’re a straight guy, Lenny.’
‘I’d never harm your family, Jake.’
I fix him with a stare. ‘No, you’re too clever for that.’
He flicks ash into the ashtray. ‘War between us is good for no one. The Mafia learned that the hard way, eh?’
‘He’s young, I hope he didn’t give too much away,’ I say.
He barks out a laugh, short and sharp. ‘Too much? Shane? You don’t give him enough credit.’
I say nothing. I drag another lungful of smoke and exhale it slowly. Suddenly I feel worried. What has Shane got himself into? What could he possibly have done that Lenny is so pleased with himself. I expected to find him spitting blood.
I frown. ‘What exactly did you agree to with him?’
‘Relax, Jake. He’s a chip off the old block. He didn’t have to give too much away. It was no big deal. I was happy to give her up. She’s damaged goods. I was keeping her as an act of charity.’ He looks at me craftily. ‘He helped set me up with a juicy deal.’
He glances at his cigarette tip. ‘And the little punk introduced me to two of the best whores I’ve ever had. I’m flying them both over for this weekend. One of the fucking bitches is double-jointed. She can suck her own pussy.’
He stops to catch my gaze, and there is something chilling about his eyes. ‘They put up a good show. I could give you their phone numbers if you want?’
There is a sour taste in my mouth. Amazing to think this was my life for so long. It wasn’t me then, and it’s certainly not me now. I grind the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table. ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass.’
Lenny watches me with his empty eyes. I know he is hiding something. That bullshit about keeping Snow as an act of charity, my four-year old daughter could see through that one. Shane has something on him, but I don’t need to know how far Shane has gone. Shane did what he had to do. All I need to know is that Lenny has not been left with a grudge. And I am satisfied that no retaliation is due. I stand up.
‘See you around, Lenny.’
‘Give my regards to Snow,’ he says.
I turn around and stare at him.
He smiles slowly. ‘Bad joke,’ he says.
I open the door and walk out of his property never to return.
Thirty-seven
SHANE
I stand outside the gates to her parents’ house. There is a bell, but before I can ring it, a skeletal man in an old shirt and stained baggy trousers starts crossing the garden and comes towards me. His face is full of wrinkles and he has only a few yellowing sticks for teeth. He stands a foot away from the gate and peers worriedly at me.
‘Snow. Is Snow home?’ I ask with a friendly smile.
And suddenly his face splits into two with a happy greeting. Nodding vigorously, he unlocks the gate and lets me in. I wait while he relocks the gate, and when he makes a beckoning gesture with his right hand, I follow him. He opens the front door, kicks off his rubber slippers and looks pointedly at my shoes.
‘Of course,’ I say, and take off my shoes.
He points to a sofa. I sit and he quickly disappears. I look around me. It reminds me of a Balinese interior with beautiful hardwood furniture and two fans tuning lazily on the ceiling. I walk to the window and look out … and I immediately see her.
She is in the garden sitting on a covered swing reading a book. I turn away to go to her and find a blonde woman in her early to mid forties standing at the entrance of the room. She is beautiful in a hard sort of way, and even though no two women could be less alike, I know immediately that this is Snow’s mother. She has the chilly, stern air of a school mistress. Her eyes sweep over me disparagingly. Oh fuck! T-shirt and jeans. Not a good look, Shane, my boy. She would have warmed better to a sharp suit and a Rolex watch.
She comes forward. ‘You are looking for my daughter, I believe,’ she says in such a strong British accent that she must take great pride in it to keep it so strong after all these years of living in a foreign country.
‘Hello, Mrs. Dilshaw.’
She inclines her head to acknowledge my guess. ‘I’m afraid I have no idea who you are.’
‘I’m Shane Eden.’
‘Have a seat, Mr. Eden.’
I walk to the settee I just vacated. She perches daintily on the one opposite mine. ‘May I ask what you want of my daughter?’
I smile. ‘I guess you could say that I’ve come to ask your daughter out.’
Her eyes become hostile. ‘Didn’t my daughter run away from you?’
‘No. She misunderstood the situation. I’ve come to explain.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Eden.’
I frown. ‘Why not?’
‘This is not London, Mr. Eden. We have different customs here. Certain … niceties have to be observed. Reputations are so easily ruined. Snow’s father is in the process of negotiating a marriage for her. I’m sure you’ll appreciate how confusing it will be for her to have your presence here now. I’m sorry you have had a fruitless journey, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to see my daughter.’
‘I totally understand. Thank you for being so frank with me,’ I say and stand.
She stands too, but with surprise etched in her eyes. I don’t think she expected such an easy victory.
I start walking to the front door and she fol
lows.
The thin man is sitting on the front steps. When he sees me he stands up and runs towards the gate. I slip on my shoes.
‘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.
You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1) Page 34