They were only a day’s walk from Syapru Besi where, they hoped, Mitesh would be waiting for them. Simon had called the hospital to find out about Sujay and they were relieved to hear he was conscious and recovering well; well enough to call his brother and tell him to go and pick them up. Jess was keen to hear the next part of the saga, so Simon talked as they walked briskly down the mountain on their way back to civilisation.
“So Jack and I were taking turns watching the Kayanis’ place, but we just couldn’t get near it. The best view turned out to be from the fifteenth floor of a filthy apartment block across the lake.”
“Michael said you knew she was in there.”
“Well, we bribed one of the agency cleaners but all he told us was that there was a young girl who fitted the description.”
“But that’s where you got your first glimpse of her?”
“That was a great moment, but we had no idea how to get into the compound. It was even harder than getting into their place in London. We needed them to bring her out.”
“And eventually, they did.”
“She turned up in Lahore with the Kayanis on the campaign trail, so I hot-footed it down there and checked into the same hotel. Found out which suite they were in and made my move.”
“Do I want to know this bit?” She hated to think there had been any more violence, despite what Kayani had done to Leila. She didn’t need to be reminded that although Simon had been heroic in rescuing Leila and protecting her, he was also a trained killer.
“What do you mean?”
“Michael told me you ‘persuaded’ the guard to ‘step aside’.”
“Oh, yeah. No, I just gave him a little tap. Honest. Anyway, you don’t want to feel sorry for Kayani or his goons, they’re not worth it.”
“But how did you get her out?”
“I knocked on the door and shouted room service in my best Urdu. There was one woman in there, and once she realised I wasn’t room service she started to scream, so I had to restrain her and take her phone away. I convinced her she wouldn’t get hurt if she just stepped into the bathroom and locked the door.”
“As easy as that?”
“More or less. I found Leila in one of the bedrooms. I talked to her, told her who I was and that I was taking her home to her mum in England. She didn’t struggle at all. Just took my hand and followed me out.”
“You charmer.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” He put on his hurt expression and she laughed at him. “We took a taxi to the Indian border and mingled with the crowds attending the border ceremony. I put Leila in the front seat to make it look like she was the driver’s daughter and I played the dumb tourist in the back. It was all fairly chaotic but we crossed into India before the shit hit the fan, and ended up in Amritsar, where I have a good local contact.”
Jess remembered Michael mentioning a girl called Juneeta and couldn’t help playing with him.
“What was her name?” she asked innocently.
“Juneeta,” he said without hesitation.
“Okay. And how do you know Juneeta from Amritsar?”
“Now that’s a long story …” Jess smiled to herself. A girlfriend in every country. “But she was fantastic. We had to stay with her for a couple of weeks and she looked after Leila much better than I could have done. I don’t know anything about kids. They frighten me a bit.
“You? Frightened by kids?” She laughed loudly.
They reached the last suspension bridge, a hundred feet above the raging river she and Sujay had crossed on the first day, and she knew they were not far from the town. One last climb and then down all the way; an hour at most. The climb was steep but they were below two thousand metres, and by now she was a seasoned trekker.
***
By three o’clock they were on the bus, and by seven thirty, back in the dust and smoke and filth of Kathmandu. They stopped by the hospital to check on Sujay. They found him in a busy ward with thirty other patients.
“I will go and see Miss Alisha as soon as possible. Before it’s too late.” He still looked weak and was connected to a drip.
“Only when you’re fit again,” said Jess, sitting beside him, holding his hand. “Please give her my love and best wishes.”
“I’m sorry for letting you down, Miss Jess.”
“Oh no, Sujay. I’ll always be grateful for what you did. I promise to come back one day.” She felt awkward making promises she wasn’t sure she could keep, but she felt the need to say something to assuage his discomfort.
“You must bring your family. I would like to meet your girls and for you to see my wife and children.”
“We’d love that.”
Sujay turned to Simon who stood on the other side of the bed.
“Simon. I owe you my life.”
“You’re welcome, buddy. Keep trekking.”
***
By eight thirty they were back at the hotel, Dwarika’s providing the oasis of calm and serenity and luxury she had been craving for days.
She lay in the huge stone bath, submerged in hot soapy water, luxuriating in the heat and the fragrance, and was reminded of her bath at home, Lisa’s bath, which she’d used on her first night at Chalton. She thought of Alisha; scarred and disabled, stricken by terminal illness and virtually alone, and she couldn’t imagine how she would cope in similar circumstances. But Alisha had her Buddhist faith, and despite everything she’d endured, it was the foundation of her existence. It provided all the explanation she needed of life, death and resurrection. Jess hoped that when her time came, she could approach it with the same equanimity.
She wrapped herself in a soft, fluffy dressing gown and called home, pleased to hear the girls were on top form. She told Keira she was flying back the following morning and would be home by teatime. The clothes Sujay had made her leave behind were back in the room when she arrived, so she was able to pick something comfortable to wear for dinner; her favourite pink cashmere sweater over white jeans and black sandals.
Simon was waiting for her in the Fusion Bar. He was wearing an open-necked check shirt, khaki chinos and boat shoes, and he was clean-shaven; the first time she had seen him without stubble. It made him look younger. He stood up as she approached and for a second, they were lost for words. He recovered his composure.
“Gosh. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
She looked away, mildly embarrassed, just like she had done all those years ago, and he saw it. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” She said quickly, looking at him, studying his face.
“I got you a Prosecco.”
They sat down and clinked glasses.
She’d guessed he was in his late forties but she’d never before had the nerve to ask. One sip of Prosecco was all it took to remove her inhibitions.
“I was trying to guess your age.”
“Go on, then,” he said, taking a large swig from his beer.
“You won’t be offended?”
“Probably.” But he was smiling. “Forty-eight. There, put you out of your misery.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, playing with him.
“And I’m guessing you’re about twenty-seven, twenty-eight?”
“Don’t you know never to guess a girl’s age?” They clinked glasses and went to dinner.