“Tau!” Jack shouted towards a man stood at the bar. Tau turned and beamed at them.
“Tau, you gotta meet this guy we’ve found,” Jack said, his voice straining against the music. Leo watched as Tau shook Jack’s hand in an unusual way. “Tau, this is Leo, Leo needs your help – but first we need beer!”
Tau looked at Leo and offered him the same handshake, holding his arm vertically and cupping his fingers.
“Whatever I can do, man,” Tau said in the sort of English people learn by watching American gangster movies. “First though, beer! You gotta meet Torro!”
As Tau guided them towards the bar, Leo started to scan the room for Allissa.
Jack, Jem and Tau were talking with animated expressions at the bar. Tau waved a colourful note above their heads at the waiter.
“Man, that night was so good…”
Leo only heard fragments of their conversations as he gazed into the darkness.
“I’m going to remember that forever…”
“Your face was incredible…”
“What was that girl’s name?”
Leo looked back towards them, having checked every corner of the room. There was no one matching the image he remembered of Allissa.
Tau was acting some part of the remembered night when the bar man approached. He recognised Tau with a handshake but didn’t smile.
“Guys, this is Torro,” Tau said, pulling Leo into their circle. Torro shook hands with the others as Tau gave him instructions in what Leo assumed was Nepalese.
“Torro don’t speak English,” Tau explained, having to shout. “He’s lived in Kathmandu for over thirty years though. Almost long enough to be one of the originals.” Seeing the need for explanation, Tau continued. “Kathmandu has always been a place where people come to drop out. It’s got some of the best dope in the world. In the seventies it was one of the destinations of the hippy trail across Asia. Loads of people used to travel through here and get lost for a week or so. And Torro was one of those, but he just never left.”
Torro returned with four bottles in one hand, and five oily shot glasses in the other. He was a big man, wide and tall, long hair, bearded, one half of his mouth slanted to give him the look of a constant frown.
The beers were distributed. Torro pulled a bottle from the back bar, poured out five shots and said something to Tau.
“First one to swallow pays,” Tau said, pouring the shot into his mouth and washing it around his teeth. Torro did the same, sharp eyes following the other three. Jack joined. Jem did hers. Leo was last.
The chemical taste of alcohol burned his mouth. Two seconds. Leo had never been a big drinker. He’d taken shots before but never particularly enjoyed them. Five seconds. Leo watched the others, copying their swilling of the rancid drink. Eight seconds. Nine seconds. The liquid tasted like acid. Ten seconds. Leo was still going. He looked across at Jack’s grimace, Jem’s upturned smile, Torro’s cool, unblinking eyes. Fifteen seconds.
“Urrrrgggh!” Jack shouted, pouring a third of the bottle of beer into his mouth. Jem did the same a moment later.
“Ahhhh, man, drinks on you!” Tau said, slapping Jack on the back.
Leo hadn’t lost. He was impressed. Torro regarded him with unsmiling, cool eyes which may have been impressed too.
Losing focus on the people that stood around him, Leo noticed for the first time the eyes that looked back at him from the wall behind Torro. Stuck around the bar between faded band posters were dozens of yellowing photographs. Small and expressionless, like those used for passports or visa applications. Turning, Leo saw that they were everywhere, covering every available space. There must have been hundreds of them around the bar. Each white square contained a moment of official servitude as the person lost all expression for the flash of the photo-booth. They must have been people who visited Kathmandu, came to the bar, and left their photo before moving on. Now living in distant places, trapped in the cycle of work and leisure, family and friends, did they ever think about the photo of their younger self still gazing down over the drinkers in Torro’s Bar, Kathmandu?
The night ran like liquid from the glass, seeming to burn as it did. Drinks after drinks were poured.
Jack and Jem spent most of the time talking closely, leaving Leo to tell Tau of his search for Allissa.
“We can sort that,” Tau said, confidently. “What do you know about this chick, then?”
“There’s something interesting about her family,” Leo explained. “She’s got a half-brother and sister. I think she feels a bit like the odd one out. That may have something to do with this.”
“Was she travelling alone?”
“As far as I know. She left on her own, but she’s been away for two years now, so she could be anywhere. I think people would remember her.”
“Okay,” Tau said, decisively. “What’s your feeling? Is she in the city or has she moved on?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m assuming she’s still here until I know more.”
Tau paused for a moment, looking as though he was running places through his mind.
“That gives us a few options. Let’s talk in more detail tomorrow and make a plan,” Tau said. “Now we drink!” He banged on the bar and Torro lumbered over.
“Hey, man!” Tau greeted a young man who approached the bar, dressed smartly in a large collared orange shirt and trousers.
Leo continued to scan the pictures on the nearby walls; nameless faces looked back.
“How’s things?” Tau said, exchanging a handshake.
Around the bar, sweaty bodies moved to the beat of the music. One song faded and the next began. Leo smiled at the irony, ‘London Calling’ by the Clash. He wondered what Allissa’s calling in Kathmandu had been. Was she still here? And if not, where had she gone?
Looking around, Leo realised he couldn’t see Jack and Jem. While talking to Tau he’d assumed they’d cornered themselves for a bit of privacy, but now, straining his eyes in the darkness, he couldn’t see them at all. In the seat where they’d been, a man sat on his own, looking from his phone to the people in the busy bar, the light washing his face in blue.
Where were Jack and Jem? How would Leo get back to his hotel without them? He hadn’t paid attention on the walk here, assuming they’d walk home together. The city was a labyrinth of roads that all looked the same.
Tightness grew in his chest.
The music thumped.
Leo remembered how quickly Jack and Jem had forgotten about Kaitlyn – someone they’d spent weeks with.
Noise. Heat. His chest grew tighter.
Focus on breathing.
In.
Out.
A cool hand touched his arm.
“You alright, lad?” Jack said, pushing his way through the crowd from the door. “You looked like you were gunna go, then. It’s a bit mad in ‘ere to be fair, eh!”
“Yeah, fine,” Leo said, trying to focus on the bar around him. “This is potent,” he said holding up the bottle.
“Yeah, we’re feeling the same. Just went outside to cool down for a bit. We’re gunna shoot off now, Jem’s last night an all, do you wanna walk back to the hotel with us? Or stay with this mad one?” Jack pointed at Tau, absorbed in conversation.
“Nah, I’ll come with you.”
Jack tapped Tau on the shoulder. “We’re off, Jem’s flying tomorrow.”
“I’ll come say goodbye.”
Outside the air was cooler, but still not refreshing. Although the traffic had dwindled, the smell of the choking exhausts lingered.
Tau was first over to Jem, hugging her close before disappearing back inside.
“Let’s go,” Jem said, taking a deep breath and turning to Jack. “We’re on the clock tonight.”
Jack put his arm on the base of Jem’s back and kissed her once on the neck.
As Leo watched them start to walk off, living in the moment of their holiday romance, he thought of the photos on the walls of Torro’s bar again. They we
re the faded ghosts of past good times.
Tomorrow, Jem would be one of them. Just a memory. Leo knew a thing or two about memories. He knew that however much you wanted it to stay fresh in your mind, it would fade and yellow with age, like the pictures on the wall of the bar. That’s the way memories worked – they were the past, and once something was in the past you could never get it back, however much you wanted it.
Chapter 43
The restaurant was busy. Travellers continued to find their way to the door identified only by the bare bulb.
Look for the light, you’ve got to look for the light.
It had never been advertised, the location was not properly known, but the legend of the Himalayan Lamb passed from tourist to tourist in the hostels and bars of the mountain city.
Over the years, the restaurant had received much critical acclaim, once making it into a guide book. “You’ve not been to Kathmandu unless you’ve eaten there,” the listing said, giving vague directions about how to find it in the warren of crisscrossing passages. In truth, it would be impossible to find during the day, or when the bulb was not illuminated, which added to the elusive excitement travellers lapped up.
In the corner of the dark room a couple sat, their loud New York accents carrying on the spiced air. They’d not noticed the waiter with the oily smile watching them from the darkness. They’d not noticed him flick the switch on the wall, turning the light off, making the restaurant impossible to find. Nor would they notice his smile when, after the restaurant had emptied, he offered them the smoke.
Chapter 44
Storms rolled around Kathmandu during the night, but none managed to break into the city. Sooner or later they would crack the anticipation which hung thick and heavy in the air. It left a bad taste in the mouth – electricity, dust and precipitation.
Leo lay awake in his hotel room listening to thunder crash and tumble. He hoped no one would be hurt on the mountain passes as the storms relentlessly pushed themselves through.
After getting back from the bar he’d showered, changed, and gone to bed. He hadn’t realised how much he’d drank until he lay down. The walls seemed to move and sway with his thoughts. The rattle of the ceiling fan amplified to such a volume that he wondered how anyone in the building could sleep.
In frustration, Leo tried to work out what time it was in Brighton right now. But the concept of time and travel tied him in cognitive knots and all he ended up thinking about was Mya.
He should have said no, you can’t always have it your way. She shouldn’t have expected that of him and put him in that situation. He was angry, sad and tired. At her, at himself, at being in this hotel on his own in a strange city. At Torro’s unusual citrus shot that he could still taste on his breath. At the world for taking away things that were good, and pure, and honest. At the fact that he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly two days.
Finally, the tiredness took over and Leo succumbed to the disturbed, dusty sleep of the mountain city.
Leo woke after what seemed like a heartbeat. Light piled in through the half-open curtains. His eyes adjusted as his brain registered conformation on his location, searched without movement for any injuries and scanned the final memories of the night before. He wasn’t used to drinking that much.
Confident that he’d remembered everything, he wasn’t hurt, and he was in his hotel room, Leo sat up. In those first moments of wakefulness he knew that people would believe anything. The disorientation that came after sleep was absolute and debilitating. He remembered one morning at university being woken by a housemate saying it was 7 A.M and he was late for his part-time job. He didn’t realise it was actually 2 A.M. until he came downstairs in his work uniform to find the housemate and five other friends waiting in laughter.
A bright, undisturbed beam divided the hotel room, through which shot a million grains of fine dust. Dust that everyone in Kathmandu was breathing. Leo coughed and the particles split in all directions for a few seconds before returning to their previous speed.
He and Tau had swapped numbers. Leo had hoped they would be able to get started that morning, but perhaps with the way he felt now it would be better to wait until the afternoon.
He reached for his phone on the bedside table. Recognising his finger, it unlocked automatically.
Two texts, the first from Stockwell: You’re in Kathmandu now, I expect to hear news soon.
The second from Tau: Dude, I’ll be at your hotel in thirty minutes.
It was sent at twelve-thirty, twenty minutes ago.
Leo breathed deeply – how had Tau managed that? He was still going in the bar when Leo left last night. He must be a machine.
Fifteen minutes later, Leo ran down the stairs to the hotel foyer two at a time. He didn’t want to keep Tau waiting; finding him was a step forward in the investigation and he needed all the help he could get.
Tau rose from one of the bedraggled sofas at the far side of the gloomy foyer as Leo arrived. The way he stood and held his gaze gave Leo an impression of confidence and reliability. His dark brown leather shoes were tinted Kathmandu orange, blue faded jeans and a baggy t-shirt with a western logo printed on it showed an understanding of both the city they were in, and the world Leo knew. Leo felt reassured by him.
“How’d you find Torro’s then?” Tau asked as some form of greeting and held a hand out for his trademark handshake. Leo took it, and let his breath go slowly as an answer.
“It was fine while I was there… when I got back here was the problem.”
“Yeah, you look like you’re in trouble, dude!” said Tau. “Let’s get some coffee and we’ll make a plan. Have you brought the stuff you have on this girl?” Tau nodded towards Leo’s empty hands.
Three minutes later, Leo came down the stairs a second time with the folder of information he had collected on Allissa and the Stockwell family. Tau was waiting by the door. The world outside looked bright and chaotic as Leo followed Tau out into it.
They walked side by side for a few minutes, talking idly. Leo had to concentrate hard on walking in the gap between the buildings and the searing traffic. They had to avoid rubbish, abandoned vehicles, drainage ditches and, twice, goats tied to the side of the buildings, bleating angrily as they passed.
Tau chose a café and they sat on a large wooden table at the window. The place was air-conditioned and quiet.
“I reckon you need to eat,” Tau said, flicking Leo a menu.
Leo was about to argue when he realised Tau was right. Travelling with Mya, breakfast had always been the issue. Later in the day he could eat anything, but first thing spicy food just didn’t hit the spot. Scanning the menu, Leo had a craving for the cheese on toast he would have at home, that little bit of familiarity in a world of new. He held no hope for the brown sauce, but surely they should be able to manage the toasted cheese.
Tau ordered eggs and Leo tried to explain to the waitress the phenomenon of cheese on toast – what it was, how to make it and at what point it was ready. Tau was already coming into his own, offering some words of translation that the waitress hadn’t understood. They both ordered large coffees. The caffeine would be necessary to get on with the day. Nepali coffee, Tau explained, was served dark and bitter without milk.
The coffee arrived quickly, followed minutes later by the food. It wasn’t until faced with the prospect of eating that Leo realised how hungry he was – his body clock was still running to an unknown time.
Tau’s eggs were put in front of him. They were the yellow colour that eggs seem to be in Asia and would doubtlessly taste slightly spicy. The sight made Leo even more hungry. The cheese on toast was going to be good. Moments later, the waitress put a plate down in front of Leo: two bits of cold toast and a block of cheese. Leo exhaled the disappointment. Today was going to be challenging, he could tell.
When the caffeine started to buzz, they turned to the business at hand.
“Show me what we’ve got,” Tau said, rubbing his hands together.
Leo opened the folder.
“Allissa Stockwell,” Leo said, producing the photo that he thought would be her greatest likeness, the one from the beach.
“She’s a pretty girl,” Tau said, reaching out for the photo and examining it closely.
“She is,” Leo agreed. “It was her father, Blake Stockwell, a politician, who asked me to find her.” He passed over the photo of the Stockwell family.
“She’s Stockwell’s daughter, but to a different mother, I think,” Leo said, pre-empting Tau’s questioning look to the ruddy pinked faces of the rest of the Stockwell family. “But there’s nothing known about who her mother is, or at least I can’t find it. Allissa just starts to appear in the family when she’s about five. She keeps a low profile generally, but was brought up in the same way as the others.”
Tau placed the photo down in line with the other on the table.
“How old is she now?” Tau asked.
“Just turned 28 a few weeks ago.”
“Tell me about Allissa. What’s the story?” Tau asked.
“She went to a grammar school local to their home in Hampshire, the same one the Stockwell family has gone to for generations. She did well, no problems. She went on to university, studied law at Cambridge, which is…” Leo started to explain but Tau’s expression told him he knew about the British education system already.
“She was supposed to follow her mother, her stepmother I suppose, into law. Got a place at a good firm. It was basically all sorted out for her. Then one day she just goes. No word to the family or anything, just disappears. A few weeks later she contacts to say she’s gone travelling. She’s fine, doesn’t know when she’ll be back.” Leo shivered as the air-conditioner’s stream of cold air clipped the back of his neck.
“And she didn’t come back?” Tau asked, looking up at him.
“Yeah, that’s exactly it. At first, they thought she’d just decided to stay away a while. I don’t think they were concerned. Wealthy girl, she could go anywhere she wanted. Then, after a couple more weeks, they started to worry.” Leo had a sip of his coffee – it was working, although he still wasn’t sure what time of day it really was.
Kathmandu Page 10
