Читаем Shantaram полностью

‘What are the women like, in Australia?’ she asked, running her hand through my short, blonde hair.

I laughed, and she punched me in the ribs.

‘I mean it! Tell me what they’re like.’

‘Well, they’re beautiful,’ I said, looking at her beautiful face. ‘There’s a lot of beautiful women in Australia. And they like to talk, and they like to party-they’re pretty wild. And they’re very direct. They hate bullshit. There’s nothing like an Australian woman for taking the piss out of you.’

‘Taking your piss?’

‘Taking the piss,’ I laughed. ‘Letting the air out of your chest, you know, ridiculing you, stopping you from getting too many big ideas about yourself. They’re great at it. And if they stick a pin in you, to let a bit of hot air out, you can be pretty certain you had it coming.’

She lay back on the sand, with her hands clasped behind her head.

‘I think Australians are very crazy,’ she said. And I would like very much to go there.’

And it should’ve been as happy, it should’ve been as easy, it should’ve been as good for ever as it was in those Goan days and nights of love. We should’ve built a life from the stars and the sea and the sand. And I should’ve listened to her-she told me almost nothing, but she did give me clues, and I know now that she put signs in her words and expressions that were as clear as the constellations over our heads. But I didn’t listen. It’s a fact of being in love that we often pay no attention whatsoever to the substance of what a lover says, while being intoxicated to ecstasy by the way it’s said. I was in love with her eyes, but I didn’t read them. I loved her voice, but I didn’t really hear the fear and the anguish in it.

And when the last night came, and went, and I woke at dawn to pre-pare for the trip back to Bombay, I found her standing at the doorway, staring at the great shimmering pearl of the sea.

‘Don’t go back,’ she said as I put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck.

‘What?’ I laughed.

‘Don’t go back to Bombay.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t want you to.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Just what I said-I don’t want you to go.’

I laughed, because I thought it had to be a joke.

‘Okay’ I said, smiling and waiting for the punch line. ‘So, why don’t you want me to go?’

‘Do I have to have a reason?’ she demanded.

‘Well … yeah.’

‘It just so happens, I do have reasons. But I’m not going to tell you.’

‘You’re not?’

‘No. I don’t think I should have to. If I tell you I’ve got reasons, it should be enough-if you love me, like you say you do.’

Her manner was so vehement, and the stand she was taking so inflexible and unexpected, that I was too surprised to be angry.

‘Okay, okay,’ I said reasonably, ‘let’s try this again. I have to go back to Bombay. So, why don’t you come with me, and then we’ll be together, for ever and ever, amen.’

‘I won’t go back,’ she said flatly.

‘Why the hell not?’

‘I can’t… I just don’t want to, and I don’t want you to, either.’

‘Well, I don’t see the problem. I can do what I have to do in Bombay, and you can wait here. I’ll come back when it’s all done.’

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she repeated in that same monotone.

‘Come on, Karla. I have to go back.’

‘No, you don’t.’

My smile curled into a frown.

‘Yes, I do. I promised Ulla I’d be back in ten days. She’s still in trouble. You know that.’

‘Ulla can look after herself,’ she hissed, still refusing to turn and look at me.

‘Are you jealous of Ulla?’ I asked, grinning, as I reached out to stroke her hair.

‘Oh, don’t be stupid!’ she snapped. She turned, and there was fury in her eyes. ‘I like Ulla, but I’m telling you she can take care of herself.’

‘Take it easy. What’s the matter? You knew I was going back. We’ve talked about this. I’m getting into the passport business. You know how important that is for me.’

‘I’ll get you a passport. I’ll get you five passports!’

My stubbornness began to rouse itself.

‘I don’t want you to get me a passport. I want to learn how to make them and change them myself. I want to learn it all-everything I can. They’re going to teach me how to fix passports, and forge them. If I learn that, I’ll be free. And I want to be free, Karla. Free. That’s what I want.’

‘Why should you be any different?’ she demanded.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nobody gets what they want,’ she said, ‘Nobody does. Nobody.’

Her fury dimmed into something worse, something I’d never seen in her: a resigned and defeated sorrow. I knew it was a sin to put such a feeling in such a woman, in any woman. And I knew, watching her little smile fade and die, that sooner or later I would pay for it.

I spoke to her softly, slowly, trying to win her agreement.

‘I sent Ulla to my friend Abdullah’s. He’s looking after her. I can’t just leave her there. I have to go back.’

‘I won’t be here, when you look for me next time,’ she said, turning to lean against the doorway once more.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Just what I said.’

‘Is that some kind of threat? Is that an ultimatum?’