The Seven Steps to Closure

by Donna Joy Usher

  Finally we were back in the car and on our way to the hotel.

  ‘Do you mind if we hang out this afternoon while I work?’ he asked me.

  ‘Of course not.’ I patted my bag, which contained postcards of the Taj Mahal. ‘I’ve got some writing of my own to do.’

  Dearest Elaine,

  Today I saw the Taj Mahal can you believe it. Photos don’t do it justice. I am having a great time with Matt, (not that kind of good time unfortunately.) But today at the Taj the tour guide made us kiss for a photo. He thought we were married you see – long story, and the feel of …..cont. on Nat’s card.

  Dearest Nat and Ricardo,

  ….cont. from Elaine’s card – his body pressing against mine was enough to make me delirious for the rest of the day. No Nat, it wasn’t a good thing, just a pretend thing. Matt kissed me at the Taj Mahal, but for a photo, not because he wanted to. One thing I have learnt in India is that …..cont. on Dinah’s card

  Dearest Dinah and Gloria,

  ……cont. from Nat’s card – beggars can’t be choosers, so I guess I’ll just have to be happy with that one night in heaven. Hi guys, saw the Taj Mahal today. You were right Dinah, it’s unbelievable. Hope you guys are all well and not missing me too much. Seems like I’ve been gone ages. Lots of Love, Tara. Xxxxx P.S. Love to BB.

  Dearest Lil and Martin, all the girls and the foetus,

  I am having a really great time in India. Wait till you see what I’ve bought you Lil. Today we caught the train to Agra and saw the Taj Mahal. It really is a very spiritual place. All the more so for me cause I got to kiss Matt. Only for a photo for the guide who thought we were married unfortunately. You guys would love it and maybe one day, if you’re nice to me, I’ll babysit and you can come and see it. Miss you all. Tara Xxxx

  I made sure I hid those cards before I started the one to Mum and Dad.

  Dearest Mum and Dad,

  Today I saw the Taj Mahal. Can you believe it? It is even more beautiful than it looks on television. We are having a great time and are staying in Agra for the night and then tomorrow continuing to a fort that is on the way to Rajasthan. We’ll be there for a couple of nights. Love to all the animals and big kisses to you both. Miss you. Tara. Xxxx Xxxx

  * * *

  We had dinner at the hotel and collapsed ridiculously early. The last thing I remembered, while drifting off to sleep, was hoping that I wasn’t going to talk or snore. I woke before Matt and for the first time had the luxury of watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful lying there, his hair all tousled. It made me want to reach out and run my hands through it.

  I had been staring at his face for a while when all of a sudden his eyes popped open. Just like that. One minute he was asleep and the next wide-awake. It gave me such a fright that I leaped out of bed yelled, ‘I bags the shower,’ and bolted for the bathroom.

  Shit. I sat on the toilet with my head in my hands while I waited for the hot water to come through. I hoped he didn’t think I’d been watching him – which I had, I know – but I didn’t want him thinking I was some creepy stalker. He might decide to leave me behind if he thought I spent the whole night watching him. I was starting to feel a little like Gollum.

  ‘My precious,’ I whispered softly to myself.

  I took my time in the shower partly because it felt so damn good, and partly because I was too embarrassed to face Matt. Eventually I realised I couldn’t stay in there forever, so I held my head high, stuck what I hoped was not a too fake a smile on my face, and re-entered the bedroom.

  Matt was nowhere to be seen. Oh crap. A quick examination showed me that his bag was still present. That was something – at least he hadn’t done a runner. I dried my hair, packed my things and was sitting in the bay window admiring the view, when he finally returned.

  ‘No room service this morning,’ he said. ‘I had to go out for coffee.’

  A quick look at his face revealed no hidden agendas, no concern for his own well-being, and indeed only the normal relaxed happy Matt I had come to know. I let out an internal sigh of relief.

  ‘Smells good,’ I said, picking up one of the cups.

  ‘Curry puff?’ He handed me a brown paper bag.

  ‘Yummy.’

  ‘The driver should be here in about thirty minutes to take us to the fort. It’s meant to be a long drive so we may want to grab some nibbles.’

  ‘I’ll go and get that sorted while you have a shower,’ I offered.

  ‘That’d be great, thanks.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ I said, saluting him with my curry puff.

  Six hours later we were still driving. We had already consumed the chips, nuts and fruit that I had bought and I was starting to get hungry. I was also starting to have a sneaky suspicion that the driver might be lost. He had at one point pulled over and spoken to some locals. I was guessing he had asked for directions.

  It was, however, interesting watching the landscape changing around us. Monkeys were starting to pop up on the side of the road; hanging around, cleaning and grooming each other. And the women were becoming more exotic. I watched as a group of them with huge baskets resting effortlessly on their heads, walked towards us. Their faces were draped with brightly coloured, gauzy material, which billowed around them, swaying in the light breeze. Matt told me it meant they were unmarried.

  I was watching some monkeys play in the trees when I noticed the barricades stretched across the road in front of us. As the driver slowed, a group of young men rushed out from behind a building and surrounded the car.

  ‘Fuck,’ I said eloquently.

  ‘That about sums it up,’ Matt replied.

  The driver wound down his window while the men yelled and gestured towards us. I made myself as small as possible, squashing into the corner of the car. Matt looked concerned but calm. This was the man who had run into a burning building to save orphans, he probably saw things like this all the time – but I was terrified. Visions of us being dragged out of the car and shot in the head danced before my eyes. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate.

  And then Matt held his mobile phone out for the youths to see. ‘Policie,’ he said calmly. He waved his hand from side to side so they could all see his finger on the call button and said it again. ‘Policie.’

  I could see them looking at him and the phone and then at each other. They started talking amongst themselves and I tried to look braver – but I have a feeling I looked like I wanted to puke, which was pretty much how I felt. Slowly they backed away from the car and moved part of the barricade.

  ‘Fuck,’ I said again, as we drove through the gap.

  Matt looked at me in concern. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  I tried to answer but couldn’t because I was clenching my teeth together so hard I couldn’t move my jaw. He smiled reassuringly and, reaching over, took my hand. I gripped it tightly and took a deep breath. We continued like that for a while, not talking, just holding hands and watching the landscape slip by.

  One hour later we finally arrived at the Hill Fort Kresoli; an old fort that had been transformed into a hotel. I had by this time managed to unclench my teeth and let Matt have his hand back. I had seen him surreptitiously massaging his knuckles after I had finally released it.

  It was starting to get dark and I was hungry, tired and a little disgruntled. I was sure we had driven past the same hill at least three times before the driver, at Matt’s insistence, finally stopped and asked for directions. I suspected we were really only about four hours from Agra, not the seven it had taken to get there.

  A porter showed us to our room and it wasn’t till we both put our bags on the same bed that we realised there was, indeed, only one bed in the room.

  ‘Hmmmm,’ I said, looking at Matt.

  Matt just smiled and went back to reception to ask for a room change. A few minutes later, he was back. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ he asked me.

  ‘The good news,’ I answered from the doorway to
the bathroom.

  ‘They have cold beer here.’

  ‘Excellent. And the bad news is…..?’

  ‘No other rooms available.’

  I nodded my head thoughtfully. ‘But they definitely have cold beer?’ I asked.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well, I guess we’ll live.’

  ‘How about I go and get us a table outside,’ he said, picking up his camera, ‘and you take your time and have a shower. I’ll have a cold beer waiting for you when you’re ready.’

  ‘It better be cold,’ I said, smiling brightly as I headed back into the bathroom.

  I locked the door and looked at myself in the mirror. ‘Good Lord,’ I said to my reflection. I was a mass of confused emotions. Nervous, but also slightly excited, which only made me feel guilty – like I was some sort of letch trying to take advantage of the poor guy.

  Jeez, he had just wanted to come to India to write an article and now he had to lug me around with him. Meanwhile, here I was lusting after him and no doubt making it all very inconvenient and uncomfortable for him. Plus we’d already had sex, which made it just that little bit more awkward. I mean he had seen my tits. Seen them, held them, licked them, kissed them. You named it he had pretty much done it to my breasts. And well the things he had done to my hooha, they made me blush just thinking about them. And thinking about them was not going to do me any good.

  ‘Pull yourself together,’ I told my reflection, which stuck its tongue out in response.

  Did I take a bit more care over my make-up? Did I spend more time selecting my outfit for dinner? Did I make sure my hair was just right before I went outside? Damn right I did. I might have decided to behave myself, but it didn’t mean I wanted him to find me undesirable. A girl can only try after all.

  I emerged from our room into a fairy wonderland. The rambling gardens of the fort had been transformed with little lights while I had showered. Tables and chairs were scattered throughout the garden, giving the guests privacy within the magical setting. I stood admiring the effect and then noticed Matt at a little table for two. True to his word, he had a beer waiting for me.

  ‘I hope that’s cold,’ I said to him.

  ‘Frosty,’ he informed me.

  ‘Did you get some good photos?’ I said once I had seated and sampled the beer. It was, indeed, very cold.

  ‘A couple; I caught the last of the sunset from the top of the Fort, but I’m having trouble getting my focal field with all these lights.’ He picked up his camera, took a photo of me, and then looked at the result. ‘Nope,’ he said and sat the camera back down.

  God, I wanted to see that photo so badly. I felt that whatever was on that camera was what he saw when he looked at me. But I couldn’t ask – he had just said that the focal field was all wrong so it would probably be blurry.

  I relaxed back into my chair, aiming for nonchalance. ‘Here’s to dodging bullets,’ I said, raising my glass to him. I immediately felt stupid because it occurred to me that that was a line from Mrs and Mrs Smith, and while he could very well be a John Smith, here under cover to assassinate the Indian Prime Minister, I was certainly no Jane Smith. But bless him he just raised his glass, looked me in the eye, gave me his cute little smile, and said, ‘To dodging bullets.’

  ‘What’s for dinner?’ I asked, after I had taken a long slurp.

  ‘Buffet.’ He nodded his head to a long line of platters where a cluster of Indian men were busy.

  ‘Yummy,’ I said. ‘I love buffet. Although I always eat too much, and then I have to sleep on my back.’

  ‘Why do you have to sleep on your back?’

  ‘If I eat too much I get a pain when I lie on my side.’ And then I remembered that I would be sleeping on my back right next to him and I desperately wanted to change the subject, but be buggered if I could think of anything else to talk about.

  ‘Nice night,’ I said, looking around the garden. I could see stars twinkling through the leaves. Hearing the click of a camera I looked back at Matt who was examining the settings again.

  ‘Still no luck?’ I nodded at the camera.

  ‘Nahhh.’ Shaking his head he placed the camera on the table, leaving me wondering exactly what he had taken a photo of. The lights? The buffet? Me? I guess I would never know.

  ‘That was an interesting day,’ Matt said as we ate dinner.

  ‘I nearly shat myself when the try hard bandits surrounded the car,’ I admitted, taking a sip of my beer.

  Matt burst out laughing. ‘Try hard bandits,’ he finally said, wiping tears out of his eyes, ‘permission to use that in my story.’

  ‘Permission granted,’ I said magnanimously.

  In the end, dinner was more relaxed than I had thought. I was worried it would be awkward as we both thought about the sleeping arrangements. I was prepared to fake a huge yawn and “turn in early” so that I could pretend to be sleeping when he finally hopped in beside me. I would, however, be wide-awake, aware of his every movement, hoping just hoping that he might reach for me, but knowing damn well that he wouldn’t.

  The buffet had been cleared away and we had lingered in the garden far past the other diners. ‘Need to wee,’ I said standing.

  ‘Wee Willy Winkle?’ he asked.

  ‘No, just wee,’ I said smiling.

  ‘Yeah we had better turn in. Do you want me to get us some tea.’

  ‘That would be great.’

  We drank our tea sitting on the bed and then Matt headed for the shower, at which point I took the opportunity to jump in my side of the bed and plump up the pillows. I sighed with the luxury of lying down and before long was giving way to the overwhelming tiredness that had descended upon me. I was thankfully asleep before Matt finished in the bathroom.

  I woke in the middle of the night, lying flat on my back, holding Matt’s hand. I could hear him breathing deeply, and told myself that I wasn’t letting go because I didn’t want to wake him. But I knew that it was really because I liked the feel of it way too much. As I slipped back into sleep I wondered who had reached out for whose hand. I guessed it was just one more question to which I would never know the answer.

  * * *

  The sun was cascading over the bed when I was woken by the sound of the door closing.

  ‘I hope he’s gone for coffee,’ I said to the ceiling, before bouncing out of bed and into the shower. I washed my hair and dressed, humming to myself as I went. It was as I was giving my teeth a quick scrub to relieve any morning breath that I did it. I rinsed my mouth with tap water. I realised as soon as it was in my mouth what I had done and spat the water straight out. Then I dashed to the bedside table, being very careful not to swallow any saliva as I went, grabbed my bottle of water and swished some around before spitting it out again. I ravaged frantically through my toiletry bag finally emerging triumphantly with my Betadine throat gargle which I gargled.

  Matt must have entered during my gargling because I didn’t hear him until he popped his head into the bathroom to ask me if I was all right. He gave me such a fright that I swallowed some of the Betadine. The rest I spurted all over the bathroom wall while I retched convulsively from the foul taste.

  Once I had myself under control, I said to him, ‘Fine thanks, why?

  ‘All that gargling and swishing, I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.’

  ‘I rinsed my mouth with tap water,’ I admitted, embarrassed by my own stupidity.

  Matt screwed his face up. ‘Good luck with that,’ he said. ‘Here, this coffee will kill anything.’

  ‘I can only hope.’

  We moved out to the garden, which was dripping with flowers, and settled down to breakfast. Then we spent the day exploring the fort and the small village that lay in its shadow. I took photos of Matt as he played cricket with the children. We ate lunch in the cool of the garden and snoozed in the deck chairs. I wandered the rambling ruins, exploring its nooks and crannies until I found the roof top terrace where I sat, admiring the view.

&nbs
p; I felt good until pre-dinner drinks, when my stomach started to feel squirmy and I realised the smell of the cooking food did nothing for me. I pressed on with my beer trying to ignore what my body was telling me.

  ‘Not hungry?’ Matt asked when I put my fork down with food still on my plate. It must have been an unusual sight for him having watched me stuff my face at every opportunity.

  ‘I’m feeling a little off,’ I admitted.

  ‘Uhohhhh, not enough betadine?’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  An hour later my stomach commenced audible gurgles. Matt looked at me with his eyebrows elevated after one particularly loud grumble.

  ‘I know,’ I said, ‘it’s not going to be pretty.’

  We had retired to our room by the time the full onset occurred. I went to the toilet a few times with no result and started to feel more confident.

  ‘Maybe it will self-resolve,’ I said to Matt, the third time I emerged from the bathroom.

  He looked at my pasty, sweaty face and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t like your chances.’

  The words were just out of his mouth when my intestines started making sounds indicative of liquid travelling at high speed while negotiating tight bends. I gasped at the sudden pain accompanying the noise.

  ‘Uggggh ohhh,’ I said as I raced back to the toilet.

  I made it just before the liquid exploded from me. The noise was impressive and if I had been at home by myself I would have been quite proud of it. As it was, I cringed with embarrassment. Maybe he hadn’t heard it.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he called out.

  Well so much for my maybe-he-didn’t-hear-it theory. He was probably ringing reception right now to see if another room had become available. That, unfortunately, was when the real fun began. My body had turned into a spray-painting machine and it wasn’t about to stop. I felt the waves of excruciating pain preluding each burst. After about 5 minutes I was past all shame, leaning over my knees, panting with exhaustion.