The Wedding Drums by Marilyn Rodwell

Author:Marilyn Rodwell [Rodwell, Marilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781911505532
Publisher: Goldcrest Books International Ltd
Published: 2019-06-10T22:00:00+00:00

Rajnath sat on the rock, looking at the boat. Two men were struggling to haul aboard what looked like heavy jute bags. Eventually they loaded the cargo, and a third man joined them. It was time to get on board. He could delay no longer.

The deck rocked as Rajnath walked along, which was comforting in a way as his mind rolled in turmoil wondering what would happen next. He sat between the tightly packed, sourish-smelling jute bags and a familiar figure walked past. The boat set sail, and the bags shifted and squeezed him tight. The man walked past again. This time he was sure it was Farouk. Rajnath hauled himself up hard, almost knocking himself out on the tea chests opposite.

He stood still, breathing in the sea air deeply, to push his breakfast back down in his stomach. The deep green water swirled and rippled around the swaying vessel. He was desperate to see the man’s face and wondered if all was well with him. Another man appeared and asked to see his boarding paper. Rajnath handed him the ticket from his shirt pocket without a word, then picked up his brown canvas bag and headed down the boat. Farouk was sitting on top of a wooden chest.

Rajnath touched the man, but the man didn’t appear to recognise him. He stepped back to get out of the man’s space, feeling foolish to have assumed it was his friend. The wind was strong. He pushed his hair from out of his eyes and squinted to check the man’s face again, before boldly reaching out and lifting the man’s stubbly chin.

‘Farouk?’ he said. ‘Is that you!’

The man turned his head into Rajnath’s grip, and looked him up and down.

‘It’s me – Rajnath. What happened to you? Where have you been all these months? You are you looking so . . . I was worried. Do you have any idea what is going on at home? You remember Granville? Talk to me, Farouk. I just want to know.’

But the man sat like a stone, not a flicker of light from his eyes.

‘You coward!’ Rajnath burst out. ‘You remember that pretty young girl you spoilt and then took away? You begged me to help you, and I was fool enough. I thought you were in love with her. But I should never have trusted you, sonofabitch!’

The man flinched and looked at Rajnath with a wild, mad dog stare.

‘Say something!’ Rajnath yelled, grabbing him by both shoulders. ‘You bastard! You used to be my friend. I trusted you. I thought you had it right, running away from those blasted arranged marriages. I thought that whatever happened, at least you loved the girl enough to stay with her till the end.’

The thin man’s Adam’s apple moved up and down, but he made no sound. He looked weak and vulnerable. Rajnath seized his shirt and hauled him up.

‘Farouk! Say something! Did a jumbie take you over?’

‘I don’t know you,’ was all the reply he got.

Rajnath looked at him, shocked, and let him go.

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