Downtime - Marc Platt [15]
She had sat up late, listening to Charles relate stones of his trips to Russia, Australia, New Guinea and South America. He seemed to relish juxtaposing the beauty and grotesquerie of each culture; to him it was all the ravishing cruelty of nature against artifice. He had only to point to the tiny houses nestling on the roots of the mountains for her to see how arrogant and puny humans were.
When he asked about her, she steered the conversation away from travel. A famous explorer like Charles would never believe some of the bizarre places she had visited.
She had gone to bed unable to sleep, her head racing with thoughts of the dashing adventurer Charles Bryce. Somehow he seemed as unworldly and out of time as she felt. A fellow outcast forced, as she was, to wander the ways of the world.
Finally, exhausted by her fantasies, she had slipped into oblivion and out of her body.
When she emerged from the lodge, Charles was a little way up the street, joking with a young Sherpa in a green hat and pointing away to the road that led north. A couple of other Sherpa sat nearby on a pile of logs. One of them, a girl in a red gingham scarf, was spinning a prayer wheel.
Charles turned to meet Victoria and his face immediately clouded with concern. ‘Your guides haven’t arrived yet,’ he said.
She faltered. ‘Oh, no. Now what do I do? The travel firm told me that everything would be organized.’
He fixed her with a very serious frown. ‘You could always set off on your own. I’m sure they’d catch you up.’
She heard herself say, ‘Do you think so?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m sure Eric’ll find you a map.’
She glanced across the street to the teahouse and saw Eric leaning against the door. He shook his head glumly and ambled unsteadily off up the street.
Charles burst into a fit of laughter.
‘Oh, you,’ she said and tried to feign amusement.
He grinned and squeezed her arm again. ‘Don’t worry. You really mustn’t take everything so very seriously.’ He pointed to the Sherpa in the green hat. ‘This is Tundu. He’s been my guide on several expeditions and I’d trust him anywhere. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you trust him, then he’ll trust you too. And that’s important round here. He already knows the way to Det-sen – if that’s really where you insist on going, although I can think of a dozen more interesting, more touristy monasteries with decent roads and souvenir shops.’
She sighed. ‘No, Charles. It must be Det-sen. I’m sorry, I can’t explain.’
‘All right,’ he shrugged and exchanged a glance with the young Sherpa. ‘Tundu’s ready and waiting.’
She was starting to feel trapped and now she was going to offend him too. ‘No. No really, Charles. I just can’t afford this.
It’s very kind of you, but I’ve already paid for the other guide.’
His tone changed, almost became angry. ‘I insist, Victoria.
This other group’s let you down. And I’m dealing with the payments. No arguments, all right? You can trust Tundu with your life. I have – more than once. But don’t dare think for one minute that a silly little girl like you can go backpacking round the Himalayas on your own.’ He was squeezing her arm tighter and tighter. ‘You must be crazy doing all this. You know I’m right.’
For a moment, she thought she was going to hit him. Then he let go of her arm and smiled again, but not at her. He smiled at the Sherpa Tundu, who was grinning back from under his green hat. She could see that there was a deep bond between them, more than just a reliance.
‘When you like to leave, miss?’ Tundu said. ‘Soon, I think.
My sister will carry your packs.’ He indicated the Sherpani with the prayer wheel.
‘It’ll take you a good seven days’ trek to reach Det-sen,’
said Charles.
‘I don’t know,’ Victoria said. ‘I need to think.’
Tundu pulled off his hat and scratched his head. ‘You trust Mr Bryce, miss. I saved his life twice. Only do that for people I like.’
‘Twice?’ she said.
‘Three times, actually,’ muttered Charles.
‘When we go shooting for dzu-teh,’ added the sherpa.
‘You mean Yeti?’ Victoria exclaimed. ‘You didn’t tell me that you were