“Ramesh!!!”
He jerked his head up and saw Cady standing on a jetty fifty yards in front of him, his right arm held stiff and high, his fist clenched in salute. Lani was enclosed in the sweep of his left arm.
In an instant depression dropped away, and emotion welled up. He was blinded with tears. He wiped an arm across his eyes, half-focused and saw another misty figure standing next to Lani. He shook his head and looked again.
It was Kirsty, head tilted, a smile on her lips. She was looming closer. Then the smile vanished and Cady shouted urgently, “Slow down, Ramesh! Slowdown!”
He came out of his daze and grabbed the throttle, pulled it back into neutral and then into reverse. Manasa slowed and, like an old lady, slipping on ice, swung her stern and with a reproachful squeal scraped down the jetty.
Cady roared with laughter but Ramesh heard nothing. He was looking at Kirsty, ten feet away, reading the message in her eyes.
Chapter 29
At the club house there was a wad of letters waiting for Ramesh. The secretary handed them to him with a stern look. He did not approve of single-handed sailors, especially those who scraped his jetty.
Ramesh and Kirsty were oblivious. They turned hand in hand and walked to the bar.
“I did not expect you to be here.”
She smiled. “Neither did I. I’ll tell you about it later. I’m so happy, Ramesh.” She leaned across and kissed him. “Read your letters, but keep the three from me until later. I hadn’t realised I’d be here when you read them.”
He sorted through them. Several had been forwarded from Djibouti.
There was a thick, official looking letter from London. He left it to the last. Thirty years as a babu had left him suspicious of officialdom.
The other letters represented a cobweb of his recent life.
They came from Jaran Singh, in Bombay. Guy and Marie-France and another from Dave Thomas in the Seychelles, Murphy and Howard and Harriet from Dar es Salaam.
Finally he opened the thick envelope, postmarked London. Inside was a three-paged typewritten epistle and a blue envelope with a spiky scrawl addressed: Ramesh and Kirsty.
Puzzled, Ramesh first read the typed pages. The others watched as he hunched over the table, his brow furrowed.
He finished, and looked at the blue envelope. Slowly, as though it was a fragile, ancient parchment, he picked it up and prised it open. He slid out the pages and started to read. There was a stillness about him. His face radiated a profound sadness. Several times he looked up into Kirsty’s enquiring eyes. He was a long time reading. The others felt no impatience. When he finished he shuffled the pages neatly together and held them in his hands. Then he looked up at Kirsty and silently passed them over.
He watched as she bent her head and read the words. Both Cady and Lani felt they were encompassed in a moment of deep intimacy.
She finished reading and put the pages on the table. She raised her head and looked at Ramesh. Their eyes conducted a silent dialogue. A question was offered up tentatively and answered positively. A glance contained a promise, a lowered eyelash became a signal.
She looked across the balcony to the white-capped sea and struggled to find the words.
“Ramesh. Is it possible to be so sad and so happy at the same time?”
He made no answer. He seemed not to be breathing. He was looking at a spot somewhere over her right shoulder. Again she groped for words.
“Such a wish must be honoured. Like the green light at sunset.”
They stood up and he took her hand. They turned to look at Cady and Lani. Ramesh said, “Read the letter. You are part of it.” They walked out on to the balcony and stood at the rail. He had an arm around her shoulder. Hers was around his waist.
Cady slid the pages towards him, pulled the bottom one out, saw the signature, ‘Jack Nelson’.
Lani leaned over and together they read the words.
Dear Ramesh and Kirsty,
Old men have dreams. Old men who are dying have vivid dreams: maybe a last wish that can only be fulfilled by others.
You are the others.
I love you both. Yes, love. I’m not embarrassed to write the word. I’ll be gone when you read it. Nothing but lying doctors and nurses who smile with their teeth and can’t keep pity from their eyes.
I was feeling sorry for myself when your letters came — both within a day, from thousands of miles apart.
Worst thing about dying is the futility. Maybe having children eases that.
I don’t have children and I’ve felt the futility. But when I got your letters it disappeared.
I was part of it. I was there in Zanzibar.
Ramesh, when you pulled the trigger and shot Okello, my finger was next to yours on the trigger.
Kirsty, when you held your son in your arms mine were alongside them.
Sentimental slush.
But when you count hours, sentiment is a pain killer.
I know you both so well. I love you . . . and that big ape Cady, and Lani — something treasured.
Why did you come so late?
My own fault. You were always there. I was blind.
Thank God you came and opened my eyes.
I know you well.
Kirsty, you write that Garret will go to college. He is provided for. You are vague about your own future.
Ramesh, you write about your coming voyage — the pleasure of being alone on Manasa. You can fool the world but not a man leaving it.
The party at the Northolme. The night before you left. I watched you. I like to think that you didn’t realise it yourselves. But I saw it. You were in love.
So this is my dream:
Kirsty, you will see your son, unfettered, make his way in life. And you will have your own.
Ramesh, a voyage must have an end — or a meaning. You love each other.
But the pain killer has substance.
I don’t apologise for interfering. I sent Kirsty the airline ticket to Cyprus.
With this letter is another one from my lawyer.
I have left you my bungalow on Mahé and some investments which provide what my lawyer calls a comfortable living.
My wish is that you turn Manasa around and go back.
Kirsty, you write of the beauty and fascination of Aldabra. Explore it. And a new life. Ramesh, explore it with her.
P.S. The stupid baggy shorts are in the bottom left hand drawer.
Table of Contents
Book One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Book Two
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Book Three
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Blood Ties Page 28