The Road Back

by Liz Harris

  ‘It’s a bit easier remembering the words in Belsize Park than it is in the heat of the moment here.’ She laughed. ‘I totally forgot the word for food.’

  ‘Sal is food, I believe, and zo is eat.’

  ‘Wangyal went out of here shouting for something called a kalden. Have you got any idea what a kalden is?’

  ‘Kalden is who, not what,’ a voice said from the entrance to the house. ‘Me Kalden.’

  She spun round and saw a dark shape outlined in the doorway.

  ‘You speak English!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Not speak very well. Forget much.’

  ‘That’s fantastic, isn’t it, Father?’ she cried, clapping her hands together in glee. ‘Fancy there being someone here who can speak English!’

  ‘Me Kalden, pony-man. Wangyal ask me help you when you in Ladakh. Me help.’

  He stepped into the room.

  She looked up at his face, and she caught her breath.

  Her hands fell to her sides and she took a step towards him. Their eyes met. At exactly the same moment, each smiled at the other.

  Chapter Ten

  They would be wise to rest for the first week, the Major told Patricia as they relaxed on their first evening after they’d eaten the meal that Wangyal had brought them. Although they’d adjusted to the high altitude during their journey to Ladakh, they were obviously both tired and needed to regain their strength. He would tell Kalden that they would not be going anywhere for several days, although they might need him to interpret for them if they found it too difficult to make themselves understood.

  ‘How lucky to find someone here who speaks English,’ she said, swallowing her disappointment at having to wait for a week before they’d see Kalden again and start exploring the area.

  ‘We are indeed fortunate,’ the Major said. He stood up. ‘And now I think we should turn in, Patricia.’

  The following morning, any lingering sense of disappointment faded away as they strolled past the village, staring across the fields to the shimmering plateau and to the majestic, snow-capped peaks that towered above it. When they reached the chorten, they turned round and walked slowly back.

  ‘What a setting!’ she exclaimed, gazing from the mountains to the monastery that was crouching on the rocky slope behind the white lime-washed village houses.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ the Major said, smiling at her. ‘It’s typical of the villages in this area. Now, let us begin our exploration of the village itself.’

  They went into the village through the wide gap in the wall, and started to amble along the path that looked as if it ran through its centre. As they walked, they became aware of a growing buzz of excitement in the air. Some of the villagers came out of their houses, holding out pots and bowls as a way of offering them refreshment. Each time, the Major and Patricia shook their heads and smiled their refusal. The people they passed on the path stopped and stared at them, running their eyes over their clothes, peering curiously at their faces, all the time smiling warmly in welcome.

  ‘We must seem very strange to them,’ the Major remarked as a group of young children ran up, giggled and ran away. ‘I imagine that apart from the occasional missionary, we’re the first Westerners that most of them have ever seen.’

  ‘Judging by the way in which they’re all staring at my legs, it’s also the first time they’ve seen a woman in jeans. But they don’t seem to mind us being here. In fact, they seem really pleased to see us.’

  Their slow progress through the village was made even slower by the Major stopping at regular intervals to instruct Patricia about the aspects of Ladakhi life that they encountered on their way, and by the end of the morning, when it was time to return to the post house for their lunch, there was still much of the village that they hadn’t yet seen.

  When they got back to the post house, they found Wangyal hovering uncertainly there, waiting to serve them a thin, pancake-shaped bread, along with a bowl of soup that had been thickened, they later decided, with unroasted barley flour.

  ‘I think we’ll leave the rest of the village for tomorrow, Patricia,’ the Major said when they’d finished their meal. He got up from the table. ‘I must admit, I’m somewhat tired now, and I think I’ll retire for my afternoon rest. What will you do?’

  ‘I’ll sit outside and read for a while. It’ll be lovely and warm in the sun.’

  Once the Major had settled himself upstairs, Patricia picked up her book, tucked it under her arm, carried a wooden chair out of the house and sat down in front of the vegetable patch. Her book in her lap, she stared for a while at the distant fields and glistening streams, then she opened the novel at her bookmark and started to read. As she turned the page, the sensation of being watched swept over her.

  She looked up sharply, put her book down, got up and went up the path to the track. Standing at the top of the path, she looked in both directions, but there was no one to be seen, nor was there anyone in the fields opposite. Could it have been Kalden, she wondered? But surely he’d have come over and spoken to her?

  Biting her lip, she walked a little way along the track, her steps crunching on the stony ground, loud in the silence of the tranquil afternoon, but the track and the fields were definitely empty. After a few minutes, she turned back, returned to her book and carried on reading without further interruption until her father appeared and suggested that they take a short, late-afternoon walk.

  ‘It’ll be good to have the chance at last to practise the Ladakhi words that we’ve learnt,’ Patricia said as they made their way along the edge of the fields towards the streams. ‘I know we said a bit to the bearers, but not really much more than Ju-le. Obviously Ju-le is a godsend as it means just about everything under the sun – hello, goodbye, good morning, goodnight, please, thank you – but it’ll be nice to use some other words, as well.’

  ‘Indeed,’ her father agreed, and they walked along in silence, drinking in the quiet beauty of an afternoon that was turning to gold in the light of the slowly dying day.

  ‘What are you looking for, Patricia?’ the Major asked suddenly.

  Startled, she glanced at him. ‘Nothing,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m not looking for anything. Why?’

  ‘It’s only that you keep looking back towards the village and you seem to be searching the fields for something.’

  She coloured slightly. ‘I’m just looking at the different views – it’s all so beautiful. And I’m watching the birds.’

  ‘Indeed, I didn’t know that you were interested in ornithology.’ The Major raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m not usually. It’s just that everything here is so … so heightened, if that makes any sense.’

  ‘Yes, it does,’ he said warmly. ‘I know exactly what you mean. We are at one in that. There is something about this country that quite captivates a person.’

  ‘Yes, there is,’ she murmured, and she fixed her eyes firmly on the ground ahead for the rest of their walk, altering her focus only when the Major pointed out an item of interest.

  Much later, curled up under her blanket for the night, she wondered what Kalden had been doing all day.

  The following morning, the Major decided that they would attempt to complete their tour of the village before lunch. They could then go for an afternoon stroll in the area around the village after he’d had his rest.

  Accordingly, they set off immediately after breakfast, walking quickly to the spot where they’d broken off their exploration the day before, and then slowing down. When they turned to go down one of the winding lanes that separated the village houses, a large two-storey house, towering above the buildings on either side, immediately confronted them. The Major stopped and stared up at the frontage of the house.

  ‘Look at that, Patricia! Look at those carvings on the balconies and windows, and all around the doors – they’re unusually ornate, even for Ladakh.’

  Leaving her standing at the top of the lane on her own, he went closer to the house to inspect the desig
ns. While she waited for him to finish, she glanced idly around at the other lanes.

  ‘See, Patricia, the design is constructed mainly around the lotus,’ the Major called over his shoulder, peering at the pattern around the window closest to him. ‘Not that it’s surprising to find the lotus featured, given that it’s the symbol of purity and lies at the heart of Buddhism.’ He took a step back from the house. ‘I really must take a photograph of this window – the craftsmanship that went into it is quite astounding. Come and see for yourself.’

  As he slid his camera from his shoulder, she started to go and join him, when a movement to the side of her caught her eye. She glanced towards it. Kalden was just coming out of one of the lanes, walking in their direction.

  Her face broke into a smile.

  She swept her hair back behind her ears, and turned to face him as he emerged from the shadows cast by an overhanging balcony and stepped into the dazzling rays of the morning sun. He saw her. His steps faltered, and a smile spread slowly across his face. A beautiful man with a golden smile, she thought, flushing slightly, and she found herself walking towards him.

  ‘That such attention is paid to something purely decorative is indicative of Ladakhi values,’ her father’s voice came from behind her.

  ‘Kalden’s here,’ she called, pausing fleetingly and turning to her father, who was trying to capture the whole house in the camera lens. ‘Shall we go and say hello – or, rather, Ju-le?’ She laughed. Without waiting for an answer, she continued walking towards Kalden.

  The Major clicked the camera, put it back in its case and went quickly after her.

  ‘Ju-le, Patricia-le,’ Kalden said as Patricia reached him. ‘You and Major-le see village? Village very good. Yes?’

  Patricia opened her mouth to reply, but the Major had reached her and placed himself at her side. ‘We like your village very much, Kalden,’ he said. ‘It’s everything we could have hoped for. And we’ve been made to feel most welcome by everyone we’ve met.’

  ‘Me very pleased, acho-le. And you, Patricia-le, you like village?’ His dark brown eyes rested on her face.

  ‘Very much, thank you,’ she said self-consciously. She smiled up at him, and he smiled back. Her heart missed a beat. ‘As my father said, everyone’s very kind,’ she added quickly. ‘It’s such a shame that we can’t have a proper conversation with the people we meet, but we can only say a few words in Ladakhi.’

  ‘Patricia is excessively modest on our behalf,’ the Major said stiffly. ‘I’m confident that we’ll prove able to manage more than just a few words.’

  ‘Me help you learning Ladakhi, you help me learning better English. Me forget much English. Is good idea?’ Kalden asked, slightly moving his head to include the Major in his question.

  ‘Yes, it is. It’s a very good idea, isn’t it, Father?’ Her eyes shone.

  ‘Indeed, it is.’ The Major paused. He ran his fingers down the line of his thin moustache. ‘I know I told you that Patricia and I would keep to the village and the area surrounding the village during our first week, Kalden, but I think that perhaps we might feel up to taking a short trip or two in the next few days. Would you agree, Patricia?’

  ‘Yes, I would, Father. I feel very rested now and I’m dying to visit some of the places you’ve written about in your book.’

  The Major looked gratified. ‘In that case, Kalden, may we plan a short expedition – a short trip – for tomorrow, shall we say?’

  Kalden’s smile broadened. ‘That good plan. Ponies ready. Where you like go, acho-le?’

  ‘Somewhere that isn’t too far. We should not be over ambitious at this early stage of our visit. Perhaps we could go along the edge of the River Indus, and get in some walking as well as riding. Would that be suitable for a day’s outing?’

  ‘Is very good plan. We go pretty village near river and we come back. Little temple in village. We leave when sun come up and we back in village before sun fall behind mountains. Me speak Wangyal about food. Is good?’

  ‘That sounds perfect; just the ticket, Kalden, thank you. Now, Patricia, I suggest that we continue with our tour of the village. We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Kalden, at sun up, as you say. Good-day to you.’ And the Major began to walk briskly in the direction of the lane from which Kalden had appeared.

  With a quick smile at Kalden, Patricia started to run after her father. ‘Isn’t it funny hearing them say -le after our names every time that they speak to us? I don’t think I’ll ever get used it. Major-le; Patricia-le.’ She laughed.

  ‘That’s the Ladakhi way of showing respect,’ the Major said, turning into a lane. ‘But we, too, show our respect for the other person by using the appropriate mode of address and by our demeanour.’ He gave a sigh of satisfaction and smiled at her. ‘I would say that, all in all, we’ve made a good start to our stay here, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘It couldn’t have been better, Father.’

  Behind them, Kalden stood in the middle of the path, staring towards the lane down which Patricia had gone, with her hair flying behind her, a stream of gold. Long after she’d disappeared from sight, his eyes were still fixed on the lane.

  The following morning, Kalden came early to the post house and they set off on pony-back across the plateau in the direction of the River Indus, reaching the river at a point where the stream was narrow and sluggish.

  After a short break, they started along the path that followed the river upstream, keeping to the inner edge of the track as it took them higher and higher above the muddy waters of the Indus. At one point, Patricia inadvertently glanced over the side of the path, and felt quite dizzy when she saw the height to which they’d climbed.

  Moments after that, the path curved sharply to the left. They rounded the bend and saw ahead of them a long suspension bridge which was swaying above the deep gorge of the Indus. She stopped her pony and stared in horror at it. Her eyes travelled down to the ravine far below, and she shivered. It was the deepest they’d seen, and the bridge looked more precarious than any other they’d crossed so far. The blood drained from her face.

  Kalden glanced at her. ‘Can take different bridge over river. Better bridge,’ he said hastily.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said the Major brusquely. ‘If this is the best way to our destination, this is the way we shall go. Isn’t that so, Patricia? We’ll show Kalden what the British are made of, will we not?’

  Kalden looked anxiously at her.

  ‘Of course, Father. I’ll be fine, Kalden, really I will.’ She forced a smile. ‘After all, how could I not be? The bridge is covered in prayer flags of every colour, and all those prayers are being carried on the back of the river to the spirits. They’ll see that we’re safe.’

  ‘I see you are safe, Patricia-le,’ he said quietly. ‘You not fear when you with me.’

  Edging his pony over the rocky outcrop that led to the bridge, he dismounted, and indicated that Patricia and the Major should also get down but remain where they were, then he began to walk slowly across the bridge, pulling his pony behind him. When he reached the far side, he tethered the pony, and returned. One at a time, he led the other two ponies over the bridge, and then, standing on the far bank and holding the bridge steady with his hand, he beckoned to the Major to cross to him.

  ‘Do be careful, Father,’ Patricia said, putting her hand on his arm.

  He shrugged off her hand, stepped on to the bridge and walked slowly and evenly to the other side, his eyes fixed straight in front of him.

  ‘It’s much easier than it looks,’ he called back to her, ‘even with my arthritis.’

  Her heart in her mouth, she put a hand on the rope handrail on either side and began to edge her way across the bridge, her eyes on Kalden. When she reached what she thought must be about half way across, she heaved a sigh of relief and glanced over the side of the bridge. She saw the drop beneath her, and froze. Paralysed with fear, she gripped the rope handrails in a panic and shut her eyes, trying to blot from memory the sight
of the gorge below.

  Before the Major had registered her terror, Kalden was on the bridge, walking steadily towards her.

  ‘Patricia-le,’ he said quietly when he reached her side. ‘I here.’ He stepped closer to her and carefully manoeuvred round her. Then he slipped one hand around her waist and put the other next to hers on the rope handrail. ‘You be safe with me. We walk together.’

  She felt the hard muscle of his chest against her back and the strength in the arm around her. Her body relaxed and she let him guide her across the bridge, one step after another, until they reached the path on the other side.

  ‘We there,’ he said as they stepped on to firm land. He looked down at her, and he let his hand fall from her waist.

  ‘Thank you, Kalden,’ she said, her voice shaking with relief, her eyes glistening. ‘Thank you.’ She turned to the Major. ‘I’m sorry, Father,’ she stammered. ‘I’m sorry for being such an idiot and letting you down. I don’t know what came over me. Like you said, it wasn’t that bad.’

  ‘I’m coming to realise that you don’t have the best head for heights, Patricia. That is not your fault and it’s something we couldn’t have known in advance. I sincerely hope, however, that you’ll try to conquer your fear while we’re here. We’re surrounded by mountains and rivers, and we’ll be somewhat restricted if we can’t use the traditional means of getting from one side to the other. Every ravine is threaded by streams, and they have to be crossed and re-crossed.’

  ‘I’ll try, Father. I’m sure I’ll be all right in future.’ She tried to look reassuringly at them both. ‘I’m sure I will.’

  ‘We go now,’ Kalden said. ‘We sit soon, Patricia-le. Is good?’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, looking up into eyes that were warm with sympathy and understanding.

  Before long, the ground opened out into a fertile tract that ran down to the Indus and reached the water in an abundance of pink roses. As soon as she was close to the river, she slid off her pony and ran down to the water’s edge. Crouching on the ground, she inhaled the scent of the roses.