The Truth by Michael Palin

The Truth by Michael Palin

Author:Michael Palin
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2011-12-31T16:00:00+00:00


SEVEN

Mabbut was happy. Not just with the events of the day, but also because there had been no more mention of putting him on a train back to Bhubaneswar – at least, not yet. For a second night he found himself in Melville’s camp. It was set up at the base of a smoothly eroded granite outcrop whose quartz crystals sparkled in the glow of the setting sun.

Kumar and the boys busied themselves with a generator which coughed and spluttered into life. In his tent Mabbut took out his phone and found two text messages from Ron Latham, which he ignored, and one from Krystyna, leaving only her name. There was just enough battery left for a single call. He checked the coast was clear, then tapped in her number. There was a long pause. He was about to hang up when the connection clicked in.

“It’s me.”

She seemed to be expecting him.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in India.”

“Are vou safe?”

“Yes, of course I am. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Your agent rang me. Then a man who spoke like a recorded message.”

“Ron Latham? He rang you?”

“He kept asking if you’d called. Why is he chasing you?”

“He’s paying me, that’s why.”

He could almost hear the sound of her ears pricking up.

“Should I tell him you called?”

“No, Krys. Don’t have anything to do with him, he’ll never leave you alone.”

“Is he going to make you rich?”

“Would that make a difference?”

“It would make a difference to you.”

It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for.

“Where’s Rex?”

But the phone went dead. No more charge.

“Fuck!”

“Everything all right?”

A shaggy grey head peered round the flap. It was Melville.

“We’re eating soon.”

“Oh, thanks. I’ll join you.”

Melville pointed at the phone.

“You want that thing charged?”

“Sometimes I think I prefer it this way,” said Mabbut, trying to make light of the situation.

“Couldn’t agree more. Only use mine for working.”

Mabbut handed the phone to Melville.

“When you’re ready, then. Kumar’s cooking. Not to be missed.”

Outside a fire had been lit and Mahesh and Kinesh were hunkered down around the portable table. Cobra beers were opened and laptops and mobiles set up. All three men were engrossed in their work, which consisted mainly of long phone conversations, almost entirely in Hindi. Occasionally Kumar would be called away from the fire and another language was spoken.

Feeling rather like a spare part in the midst of all this activity, Mabbut wandered to the edge of the camp. The sun dipped below the horizon and night came almost instantly. He walked a little farther, outside the ring of light around the camp, and sniffed the air. It was very dry here and the smells he picked up were reminiscent of fire, of burnt things. A breeze blew up and he could hear the creaking of a tree branch. He squatted down, ferreting around in the dust until he found a stone whose weight and smoothness pleased him. Turning it over in his hand, he tried to concentrate his mind on what had once been his life. Krystyna sitting with him at the kitchen table, shaking her head at his outrage over something he’d read in the newspaper.



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