Jess and Simon sat on a goatskin rug on the floor as Alisha poured boiling water from a blackened kettle into three tin cups before setting it back down on the open fireplace.
“Thank you,” said Jess, and Simon nodded his thanks as they took the cups. Alisha crossed her legs and dropped to a seated position opposite Jess, with Simon at right angles, looking uncomfortable and confused, head switching from to the other and back again.
“I’m sorry I was not able to speak with you at my father’s funeral. If I had, perhaps you would not have had to make such a long journey. But I am very pleased you did.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jess. “Did you see me there? Did you have any idea who I was?”
“I saw a young woman with two small children. I asked Michael who they were and he was reluctant to explain fully, other than to tell me your name and to say that my father had made ‘other arrangements’. I trust the little girls are not my half-sisters?” The question was direct and personal, but her smile so open and honest, there could be no possibility of misunderstanding or giving offence. However, Jess couldn’t stop herself. She rushed to Peter’s defence.
“God, no!” Then she realised she may have overreacted. “I mean, I was already pregnant when I met Peter. He helped me.” She was aware Simon was looking at her and she turned her head to see surprise and confusion. He couldn’t have known they’d be identical and now she’d have even more explaining to do.
“I wouldn’t be unhappy if they were, Jess,” continued Alisha, and Jess lowered her head, feeling some guilt and not a little shame.
Jess wrestled with her thoughts. She felt she owed Alisha an explanation even though Alisha had not yet given any sign she was inquisitive or looking for answers. And she soon realised that it was she who needed answers. That was why she had come, after all.
“I don’t know where to start,” she said sadly, suddenly tongue-tied. She had rehearsed this conversation from the moment she’d made the decision to come to Nepal, and now, none of it seemed relevant.
“We have time. I have no classes today so we can talk for as long as you need to find the things you are looking for.”
“Classes? Are you still a teacher?”
“Yes. I teach the children English.”
“No one in the town seemed to know who you were,” said Simon, looking puzzled. “It’s a miracle we even found you.”
“I asked them not to help you, not to help anyone. If anyone came looking for me they should make no effort to direct them. I didn’t ask them to lie; just to remain quiet.”
“But why?”
“Because I thought there might be people who would want to use it for their own selfish purposes.”
“Is that what you think about me?”
“No, Jess. I knew that good people would be able to find me themselves, or be guided here by good people.” She turned her head towards Simon, the curiosity evident.
“Sujay was the one who brought me, but he got hurt. He had to go back. Simon here was on hand to take over.” She didn’t want to go into any detail. She didn’t want to relive the nightmare of the attack.
“Sujay is a good person. I pray he recovers soon. He was the one who helped me remember who I really was.”
“And who were you really?” Jess couldn’t help the flicker of accusation creeping into her voice. Alisha was so calm and so measured and so totally disconnected it was unnerving. Worst of all, she seemed utterly dispassionate, especially so soon after Peter’s death.
“Perhaps we might walk?”
Jess turned to Simon.
“Is that okay?”
“Fine by me. I imagine you two have a lot to talk about. I’ll just hang around here.”
Alisha got to her feet with the aid of her walking stick but Jess could see it was a struggle, and although Alisha tried to remain impassive, Jess could tell she was in pain. Jess jumped up and followed her out onto the porch and into the mid-morning sunshine.
“I think your friend Simon was quite surprised to see us together. We could be twin sisters.”
“Yes, I think it came as a shock to us all.”
“You knew?”
“Not initially. I saw a photograph of you and Janica. Peter had hidden it away.”
“And what did you think?”
“I finally understood why he’d been acting so strangely. I wasn’t sure why he was so keen to help me, and at the time I didn’t know anything about him or you. He hadn’t told me you were missing. I don’t think he wanted to believe it. He just said, you were ‘away’.”
“Simon is your husband?”
“Oh no. I only met him a few days ago. I’m not married.”
“But you have two small children?”
“Three.”
“Goodness! You have three small children but no husband?” Jess looked at her and felt a sudden prick of resentment at the implied reproach. She hadn’t come all this way for a lecture in morality. But why would anyone not be surprised? Sujay was. And anyway, she had misinterpreted Alisha’s reaction. “That must be very hard for you.” The smile said it all. It was a smile that saw the good in everything; sympathised with and forgave everything and everyone and conveyed nothing other than concern for her well-being. Jess wanted to explain how it had all happened, but it was too complicated and it would take too long. She hadn’t come to explain herself; she’d come to listen.
Alisha stepped carefully down from the porch onto the ground, the stick in her right hand supporting a right leg that was stiff and awkward. Alisha limped while Jess walked slowly towards the stream and Jess felt the warmth of the sun on her head. She slipped off her jacket, throwing it over one shoulder, her finger crooked in the tab.
“We all thought you had died in the earthquake.”
“Lisa died. Alisha was born.”
“Is that what you believe?”
“Not literally, no. But the events of that day shaped us all, in one way or another. Changed things forever. Just as your being here has changed things.” They reached the stream. Alisha crossed one leg over the other and lowered herself to the ground. Jess sat next to her, the eagle circling high, watching.
“I first learnt about the Buddha when I was at university. It did no more than intrigue me at the time and I would probably never have pursued it had I not lost someone very dear to me.” Alisha maintained the smile but Jess could see it was different. She saw the depth of sadness wash over her; for all her apparent lack of emotion, Alisha was clearly still tormented by the loss of her mother. The contrast with her attitude to Peter was stark.
“I behaved badly towards my father and he got very angry. I see now that he wasn’t angry with me, he was angry with himself. But the truth is, I refused to allow myself to be consoled. You know, Buddhists believe that the level of suffering we experience is a consequence of having behaved badly in a former life. I thought I was being punished for something I had done. I was looking for answers and for a way to repent my sins, although I had no way of knowing what those sins might have been. Through understanding the Dharma – that’s the teachings of the Buddha – I learnt that the only way to break the endless cycle of rebirth, the perpetual suffering and dissatisfaction each new life brings, was to follow the Great Path.”
Jess watched and listened in fascination as Alisha spoke in her gentle, rational and unemotional way but in terms she couldn’t possibly understand. She wanted to interrupt her, to probe her with questions, challenge the self-indulgent delusions that seemed to have caused so much heartache to her father. But part of her recognised that Alisha had gone in search of an inner peace and, on the face of it, seemed to have found it. She felt the stirrings of admiration and not a little envy, and she wanted to hear more.
“Janica was the most beautiful person. She had grace and poise and tolerance in abundance. She was only twenty-one when I was born and I grew up alongside her, never separated. My father was often away during the first few years of my life, so when he did come home I saw this much older, rather severe-looking man in an imposing uniform, and he seemed like a stranger, or at best, a family acquaintance. Even at a very early age I think I may have resented him coming back, disrupting our idyllic existence, and we never truly bonded; not like I did with Janica, whom I regarded more as a big sister. And when I got older, I understood the significance of the age difference. I learnt that my father had been married before and I resented the fact that he had not waited for Janica, that he could have possibly given his heart to another. It added to the impression that he was not one of us, that he was separate.
“I was still very young then and it got better when he retired. I was fourteen when we moved to Chalton, and he seemed to soften and become more approachable. He was never one for physical contact, not one to pick me up and cuddle me, but I don’t think I ever needed anyone other than Janica.”
Alisha paused. Her gentle smile had not wavered throughout, her reminiscences, fond and genuine, but Jess could see she was gathering her strength, summoning up her energy and self-control.
“Janica became ill. We didn’t realise it for a long time but she grew increasingly tired, and while she had always been slim, she lost weight, her beautiful skin developed marks and blotches, and streaks of grey began to appear in her hair. She never complained but when we eventually persuaded her to seek help, her leukaemia was well advanced. I watched her die a slow and agonising death, and all the while, my father remained rock solid, seemingly unmoved, incapable of showing any emotion as we just watched her slip away. I know now he was just trying to support us, remain optimistic despite the evidence and the certainty we all had that she would die, but it pushed us even further apart. I had to get away. Be alone for a while.
“I began to find the answers when I came to Nepal. It took a while, but I read the teachings and they gave me comfort, seemed to make everything clearer. I did speak to my father, on and off, just to tell him where I was, what I was doing and that I was fine, and despite the distance between us, or perhaps because of it, our relationship grew. The truth was, I was beginning to make peace with myself and I was able to look at him in a new light, understand that I was not alone in my suffering; we simply dealt with it in a different way. One of the guiding principles of the Mahayana strand of Buddhism is the quest to find happiness and contentment for others as well as yourself. I was coming to the conclusion that here was where I wanted to be, where I needed to be. It might all have been so different.”
“Do you think you would have gone back to England if you hadn’t been in Langtang?”
“I imagine I would have gone to visit.”
Jess nodded in understanding. Lisa had found a new life for herself. Notwithstanding the terrible events at Langtang, Peter had probably lost his daughter anyway but in a way he might have been able to accept. He would never have stood in the way of Lisa’s happiness, never have put his own interests ahead of hers, and if only he had known she was alive, he would have been saddened that they remained apart, but in the end, accepting and content.
“He blamed himself, and he never stopped blaming himself, right up to the day he died,” said Jess.
“Then we definitely had something in common.”
Jess could tell that, despite Alisha’s composure and her enigmatic smile, Lisa was hurting,
“Is that why you came back?”
“Sujay spent two weeks with me here in Chumtang. He told me a story of a dashing army officer who had once gone in search of someone he loved, even though he knew it was hopeless. He described him to me and told me what he had said and where he had come from, and once the seeds had been sown, the memory came flooding back. I wanted to see him.”
“But he died before you could re-establish contact.” Jess remembered the day in the garden, the last day of Peter’s life, when he got the news about Leila. And at the same time, Lisa was making her way back into his life. He just didn’t know it. No one knew. “And then you came back anyway?”
“I had to say goodbye. I had to say sorry.”
“He would never have accepted any apology. You could do no wrong in his mind.”
“But instead of me, he had you.”
Yes, me and my problems.
“Not instead, Alisha.”
“But you brought him happiness in his final days.”
Jess had never considered this before. She supposed Peter must have been content. Even when they found out she was pregnant he’d been kind and supportive; her condition had never been an issue for him. She always thought that, for him, having her there was better than having no one at all. But then she didn’t know that he’d paid off all her debts, wiped the slate clean, nor that he’d set in train the operation to find Leila. All this consideration for her, never explicit, never mentioned, just a determination to help, to put things right, that was the sort of man Peter Jeffries was; a man who never sought recognition, or affection or devotion from anyone and expected no more or less from others.
“I think so. But I still owe him a debt of gratitude I can never repay.”
“Perhaps you already did?”
They sat quietly in contemplation, side by side, at the edge of the stream carrying the crystalline waters down the valley. The sky was a deep blue with only fragments of cloud swirling around the snow-capped peaks of the mountains. Jess felt an inner calm, a release from the myriad thoughts that had tormented her, finding that however things might appear, the truth was never simple.
“Would you like to join me in meditation?” asked Alisha without turning her head, and Jess saw her eyes were closed, her expression serene, her arms resting on her crossed legs, the way they had been when she first saw her.
“I don’t know how.”
“I will teach you. It will help you get to know your own mind. The Buddha says the untrained mind is like an angry elephant, trampling over the happiness in your life, causing untold destruction and mayhem. Meditation can expand your awareness and so purify your mind.” Jess copied Alisha’s posture and closed her eyes. “Don’t try and empty your mind. You’ll find it impossible to think of nothing. Allow it to wander and allow your other senses to guide you.”
Jess closed her eyes. After a while, the sounds around her slowly amplified to take up the space vacated by sight. She heard the wind whistling through the mountain peaks, distant and eerie yet beautiful and calming, the rush of clear water pure and life-giving, and in her mind she could see the eagle, perpetually circling, searching, watching. She saw her children, Leila and Sophie and Lucy, conceived through exploitation, ugliness and hatred, yet beautiful, laughing and smiling and loving, and the bitterness she had once felt gradually receded, replaced by gratitude for their being.
She saw Peter on the ridge, searching in vain for his own version of peace and then finding it by watching over her and bringing her a stability and peace she had never known before. And through the eyes of the eagle, she saw herself sitting on the ground, tiny and insignificant, surrounded by giants, vulnerable and defenceless in the face of the infinite forces of nature, yet susceptible only to the harm she might bring on herself through her own misguided mind.
She opened her eyes and turned her head. Alisha was looking at her, smiling in her own inimitable way. Loving, compassionate and considerate; the search of happiness and contentment for others a prerequisite for finding it for herself.
“How long have we been sitting here?” she asked, checking her fake Gucci and then feeling embarrassed at how quickly she had lapsed, reverted to the real world.
“Are you worried about time?”
“Simon might be getting concerned.”
“Let’s go back and have some food.”
Simon was nowhere to be seen when Alisha and Jess arrived back at the house. Instead, there was a note pinned to the front door: “Gone back to the hotel, catch up later. S.”
“I’ll make us some lunch.”
They sat cross-legged on the floor, ate fruit and rice with their hands and they talked. Jess talked about her life as a teenager, about her troubles at home and her marriage to Mo, his disappearance with Leila leaving her destitute and traumatised; her decision to abandon Jess and her renaissance as Alice, only to find her hopes of a better life quickly dashed and, just as she was about to end it all, her chance meeting with Peter.
“We loved that boat,” said Alisha. “He used to take us out on day trips in the warm weather and we had picnics on the riverbank. What happened to it?”
“I … we still have it. It’s moored in its usual place but it hasn’t been out for a long while. I’m not sure I could manage it.” Jess was suddenly reminded that the boat and everything else Peter had ever owned was in her name now. She didn’t know why she felt so deeply ashamed and unworthy, but she did.
She looked around her. Alisha’s world comprised nothing more than the bare essentials of life. A range with open fire, a few blackened pots and pans, a bamboo basket containing fruit and vegetables and a small table with various jars and bottles. Cut into one wall was a niche housing a small Buddha, some fading flowers and a smouldering incense stick. A shelf held a number of books, mostly in a foreign language, and next to it, set against the wall, a narrow bed covered in blankets and goatskin. The only decoration was a large, colourful poster that was fixed to the wall above the bed, and Alisha saw it held her attention.
“That’s the Wheel of Life. It illustrates the connection between those elements of a deluded mind which keep you in a permanent cycle of suffering and dissatisfaction. We believe that the things you experience in life are not pre-determined; they are a product of and caused by the delusions in your own mind. Our search for enlightenment, once found, will eventually lead us out of the endless cycle.”
“There is no such thing as fate,” said Jess absently, the phrase coming to her in an instant.
“I’ll make you a Buddhist yet!”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for it.” They both laughed. “I’m not sure I can devote my life to any faith.”
“It’s not a faith, Jess. It’s just a set of principles. The Buddha said that if some of his principles and teachings don’t work for you, that’s fine; follow the ones that do.” Jess nodded although she felt she had a long way to go before even partly understanding. “Anyway, I would never preach to you. No one can make you a Buddhist other than yourself. You will know if and when it’s right for you.”
Alisha’s words filled Jess with a warmth and humility that raised her spirits and lifted her self-esteem. In her short time with Peter’s daughter many things had become clear in her mind, and she felt vindicated in having made the decision to find her. But she was reminded there was another purpose in her coming and time was running out. It seemed incongruous, here in a place where time and space seemed to have no relevance, that she should be looking at her watch, but her own world was waiting for her and it was a long way away.
She hunted around for the words. It seemed crude and vulgar to discuss matters of wealth, here in this place, with this woman who had nothing when she had everything. It risked debasing their relationship, defiling the bond she hoped they had so quickly formed.
“I wanted to ask you …” she said hesitantly. “You came to say your goodbyes to Peter and then left. You came straight back here to resume your life alone in this remote corner of the world.”
“I am not alone.” Alisha looked puzzled at the assertion.
“I mean, you asked no questions about me, you simply disappeared again like you did the first time, and you choose to continue living here, like this.” It wasn’t coming out the way she wanted. It was beginning to sound like criticism and it wasn’t what she meant. She needed to be brave. “Peter left everything in his will to me and my children.”
“I know,” said Alisha, as inscrutable as before.
“It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to you.” Jess looked in the mirror that was Alisha, consumed with guilt for something she knew was not of her making, craving understanding and forgiveness for unwittingly purloining the birthright of another and conscious that in doing so she was putting her own family at risk. Alisha looked in the mirror that was Jess and the smiling countenance never once faded or flickered.
“Look around you, Jess. Not just here, but everywhere. I have no need for material possessions, nor, I believe, do you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. We reject the relentless pursuit of wealth, the insatiable desire to acquire physical objects; objects that delude us into thinking they will enrich our lives and make us happier, when in reality they only make things worse, creating further dissatisfaction and misery, thereby perpetuating the cycle. And so it continues. The Wheel of Life.” She indicated the poster on the wall. “I am one of the lucky ones. I found another way. I found a way to break out of the Wheel of Life. I have not managed it yet, and I may not manage it in this life. But I expect to do it in the next. You may not realise it, but you are halfway there yourself.” Jess looked up at her alter ego. Alisha was right, in one sense.
“You are willing to forsake that which countless others would sell their souls to own; not because you feel unworthy, although I have no doubt those feelings play some part, but because deep down you know there are far more important things in life. You did something I was not able to do. You supported my father through some of the darkest moments of his life, and you gave him a reason to live. You gave him someone to whom he could finally show his love and he did it in the only way he knew how: selflessly and unconditionally. There is no shame in accepting his gift. I know you will use it for the good of others.”
Jess sat quietly, absorbing words she had never expected to hear. She had come to challenge Lisa, understand how she could have been so cruel to a wonderful man, her father, and let her know the pain she had caused. She had come to defend herself from any accusation, presumed or otherwise, that she had taken advantage of an old man’s vulnerability. She had come to demonstrate her fierce independence, her reliance on no one and her determination to look after her own, regardless of what that might take. And she had come ready to hand it all back, renounce the pretender’s rights in favour of the real heir, the real daughter.
Instead, Alisha had presented her with a new version of the truth; a truth that portrayed Peter as the main beneficiary of their chance encounter. He had been the one in need, and she, the one who fulfilled it. She was the one who had suffered the trauma of abuse and neglect throughout her life, despite which she had placed her trust in a man who, destroyed by self-inflicted, misplaced guilt and nearing the end of his own, had been given one last chance to make amends.
“Shall I make some tea?”
Without waiting for an answer, Alisha struggled to her feet, hobbled over to the stove and placed the heavy, blackened kettle into position. She reached underneath and pulled out a couple of logs and placed them carefully on the glowing embers. They ignited instantly.
There was a soft tap on the door. It opened and Simon’s head appeared.
“I’m just making tea, Simon.”
“Excellent!” he replied. Jess and Alisha looked at each other and, to his evident surprise and discomfort, they both burst out laughing.