Jalan Jalan (39 page)

‘Not really sure.'

‘What is it with you? What's your story?'

The sounds of the hot night are all around: the insects rubbing knees in the grass along the side of the road, traffic going along just outside the housing compound and somewhere a dog barking.

‘It's a long and strange one, Julie, and I think it ends in madness.'

‘You're not mad.'

‘No?'

‘Not completely. I'm mad, so I can tell.' She puts on a little hysteric laugh. ‘So tell me.'

‘I came here because my girlfriend died. And I'm going back because I think now she hasn't.'

‘Aha. I take it back. You are mad.'

‘I have memories I never had before, but I also have memories that I've always had. Memories of her death. And now also memories of her alive. Alive when she is dead.'

‘You been taking drugs I've never heard of?'

We arrive at her house and sit on the white wall that encloses it. A mango tree hangs over us, the full moon's light falling through its leaves and dappling us in its glow.

‘Nope. But I have been seeing witch doctors.' I tell Julie about the beach, about Walnut, about Laura, about everything. I wonder why I choose now to tell her, and why her. Perhaps it's just that I will never see her again, and I want her, them, my friends, to know what I was about. To know that something magical, or something tragic, has happened in Medan and they have been a part of it.

We light more cigarettes and look to the sky.

‘A lot of those stars are dead now. But we can still see them,' she says. ‘And I've got to tell you, Newbie. I think your Laura's dead, but maybe she's still shining away for the moment inside you somewhere. It's just so hard for you to conceive that. In the same way we can't conceive the size of space and that some of that up there doesn't exist anymore. You can't conceive she's gone because she's so alive in your mind. You think she's still there.'

‘I'm nuts, then.'

‘Not necessarily. Just heartbroken and hopeful.'

‘Anyway, I'm going back and staying hopeful until the last moment.'

‘Hokey dokey. Respect that. It won't happen, though, ‘cos it's too weird, but weird shit happens, so perhaps it might.' She laughs.

‘Talking of weird shit, what about you and Marty then?'

‘Best sex of my life.'

‘And you're ignoring him.'

‘Oh yes. Because how fucking dare he. How dare he be so fucking good and nice and loving.'

I let the silence be my question.

‘I'm scared is what.'

‘He's nuts about you.'

‘I know.'

‘So give him a chance. Stop being hard on yourself for whatever ghosts are bugging you.'

She sucks long and hard on her cigarette and then taps out a quick succession of Morse code on her knee with her fingers.

‘Just ‘cos you told me your story, doesn't mean I'm going to tell you mine.'

‘I don't want to hear it. But Marty does.'

‘Don't fuck with my mind, Newbie. I was actually planning on shagging you tonight to get back at him for being so bloody, so bloody…' she sweeps her hair back and looks to the moon for her words, ‘magnificent.'

‘Wow. Big word.'

‘Big man.' She laughs and I join her. ‘I don't want to fuck him up.'

‘Then don't. Easy.'

‘Oh, you just have to mess with all of us, don't you? Like it's some mission you're on before you go.'

She kisses me on the cheek, hops off the wall and slaps her thigh a few times.

‘Right. Cheers, Newbie. Good luck with the ghost.'

‘Thanks, Julie.' I slide off the wall. ‘Just go grab him. No luck needed. He's a good bloke.'

‘I'm a screwed-up woman. My story would blow his head off.'

‘He's that in love with you, his head's already mush.'

‘That's true. Right then. Bye. Take care.' She throws her arms around me and holds me tight, clamping my arms to my side so I can't hug back. Then a big wet kiss to my cheek and I'm released to the night. ‘Thanks.'

I watch her walk up the short path to her house, fumble keys into the lock and mutter to herself, then she turns, purses her lips and blows a kiss and a wink and she's gone.

I stand alone in the street, my farewells all done but one. The stars above taunt me into a guessing game of which of them are still there and which have gone. Forever. But they all shine so bright, I can't believe any of them are dead.

I watch the ceiling, lying naked and wanting sleep, my sheet crumpled on the floor. But all I can do is count the days of this month. Over and over. Checking, double-checking. My flight is today. Today is July thirtieth. It says so on my ticket. July thirtieth. I arrive in England on July thirtieth, at about five in the afternoon. My head calculates time differences, flying times, double-checking today. Rolling the number and month around and around in my skull. July thirtieth in England. Today is the day I find out. Today I'll be mad or blessed. Today is the day I live. Or I die.

A new moment is born into my brain.

July thirtieth.

‘July thirtieth?' I ask.

‘Yep. I'll email you on July thirtieth to tell you when I'll come back.'

‘July thirtieth.'

‘Yes.' Her hand moves down over my stomach, which trembles, then down under the cover where it rests on me.

‘Try not to let too many other hands do this.'

‘Don't worry. I won't.' The warmth from her palm spreads across the area.

‘But one slight flaw is that you don't know how to use email,' she says.

‘I'll learn. Just while it's popular and cheaper than letters. We'll all be back to pen and paper in a few years. And as for those mobile phone bricks, I'll definitely never have one of those, so don't bother setting that up for me. Just a fad for the new century.'

‘OK. So no mobiles, I'm with you on that. But you don't have an email address.'

‘Oh. That's a point.'

‘And I thought you were a clever boy.'

‘Always cleverer than you, little girl.'

Her hand squeezes and I yelp.

‘Don't be a condescending Ice-Cream Boy.' She doesn't loosen the grip.

‘Please. Stop. I'm sorry.'

‘Really?'

‘Really. Aaah. Thank you.'

‘[email protected]. All one word.'

I raise my eyebrows at her.

‘Your new email. It'll be up and running in about eight and a half months. Password will be Mivvi6969.'

‘Eh?'

‘I'll open you an account just before I come back. An account just for me to contact you when I'm ready. Just check it on July thirtieth.'

‘You're nuts.'

‘Very possibly.' She squeezes between my legs again. ‘Your nuts.'

‘Ha ha.'

‘What's the password?'

‘Mivvi6969?'

‘Correct. Figured even you could remember that one.'

‘Cheeky.'

My hand reaches down her back and gently slaps her beautifully cool rear.

‘Mmm mm.'

‘You drive me mad.'

She takes my hand and holds it against her skin.

‘Why not set it up earlier?' I say, seeing a way of staying in touch and keeping an eye on her.

‘Nope. It'll be ready for July thirtieth. That's the only contact you're getting. I don't want you writing to me and I don't want to be tempted to write to you. And I'm not telling you my address.'

‘You've thought of it all.' I shake my head, ‘Fuck, Laura. I know you'll come back to me, but it's going to be the most painful few months of my life.'

She leans up and kisses me, her hand sliding back under the covers.

‘You'll enjoy it too. A little holiday from your Laura. Just make sure you're there when I get back.'

‘You know I'll be there. No matter what.'

‘I know. And so will I. Nothing will stop me. Nothing.'

TIME TRAVEL

I
'll
miss these early mornings. Uninterrupted blue sky tinged by white. The heat of the day not yet smothering the city. The sound of the call to prayer from first light still echoing around my mind.

I close the front door as gently as possible behind me, hoping not to wake Kim. We've said our goodbyes and there is no need to repeat them.

I stand by the gate feeling the sun waking up on my face. My backpack leans against the tree and together we wait for Charles. A small bird flits around within my ribcage.

The sound of an engine rides the air. The Range Rover crawls along the road. Charles is sitting behind the wheel, window down, cigarette and sunglasses stuck to his face.

‘Good morning.' The cigarette bobs up and down in his mouth.

‘Morning.' Backpack hoisted over my shoulder, I open the gate and then close it gently behind me. Kim's window is open behind the mosquito mesh and I decide to say one more farewell after all.

‘Take it easy, Kim.'

‘Fuuuuccck. You woke me, man.' The voice comes from the darkness within. I hear a lighter click and then, ‘Have a good
jalan
home, man. A good
jalan
fucking
jalan
.'

I throw my bag in the back of the car and climb in next to Charles.

Charles sits in silence, lighting another cigarette with its predecessor as we drive out of the compound and weave our way across the city to the airport. I see deepened lines around his eyes at the edge of his sunglasses. His jaw is clenched and white knuckles grip the steering wheel. He doesn't speak. Whatever is held in his mind doesn't know how to get out. There is some sort of energy sparking off his body. I'm not sure if it's positive or negative.

Yellow buses and
becaks
are overtaken on both sides. The car slews about like a skateboard on a slalom.

I swallow and ask Charles if he is alright.

He clears his throat twice before speaking.

‘I told you that some things cannot be changed. I don't want some things changed.'

I take a deep breath but say nothing. He also stays silent for a moment, while his words are put carefully together.

‘But you try to change them.' Knuckles go whiter.

I wonder if the steering wheel will snap.

‘I am angry.'

I look ahead at the road to check we are heading to the airport. I have no idea. Perhaps I have badly misread Charles and done the wrong thing. Perhaps he now has other plans for me.

‘I am angry because I know I should have made that phone call a long time ago. The phone call you made.' His hand leaves the steering wheel, squeezes my thigh, slaps it and returns to the wheel. ‘Thank you.'

The tightness in my stomach loosens. ‘Have you heard something?'

‘She called me last night. It was very difficult. But she called and we have spoken about things. About the children. About possibilities for the future.' Charles removes his sunglasses and rubs his eyes. ‘She told me you called her. She told me you were worried about the children and about me.' Sunglasses replaced on face. ‘Thank you for doing something I was too scared to do.'

I lean back against my door and smile. I look at this man who does so many questionable things, but yet is as fragile and scared as the rest of us. He deals drugs, has prostitutes in his club, turns a blind eye to promiscuity, but he is also a loving father, husband and friend. It might be morally wrong for him to be all that together, but that is what he is. And what do I really know about morals?

‘I can't judge you, Charles. I don't want to. Not when you come from a world so different to mine. And who am I to judge anyone? All I know, wrong or right, is that I like you. And you have great children.' I look from the window. The city passes by for the last time. ‘I really just wanted to help all of you. Fitri and Benny as much as, if not more, than you.'

‘They will be seeing their mother and sister soon. Su-Chin won't come here, but I will be taking them to Singapore next month. I haven't told them yet.'

I wish I could be there when Fitri hears this, hugging her dad, then me. Her face lighting up and the corners of her mouth twitching with near laughter at the news. I'd like to see this very much. But I'd like to see Laura more. More than anything. As I think of her I wait in case she has anything to say. But no. She has stopped haunting my mind. Please, please, please let that be because she's walking around the square in Prague, taking the city in for one last time before she boards her bus to come home. Or maybe she is already on the bus. Maybe she's already home.