‘Ummm Tara.’ I heard Matt at the door.
‘Don’t come in,’ I squealed in horror. ‘Unless you have goggles and a gas mask,’ I amended.
As he chuckled, my bottom let out a foghorn like blast. I put my head in my hands. Oh, the shame.
‘I was just wondering if you wanted your book. It might help with the pain,’ he said.
God bless his little cotton socks, he’d obviously been in this predicament before. I gasped, tears forming in my eyes, as my intestines completed another complex, gymnastic move. I could hear the commentator’s voice in my head, With a difficulty score of 5.6, she’s going to perform a triple back flip with a half twist. ‘How long is this going to last?’ I asked.
‘A while yet. Do you feel like you want to vomit?’
‘No.’
‘Well that’s something. It’s usually best to hop in the shower when both ends go.’
I laughed weakly at the mental vision. ‘So does this happen to you often?’
‘It used to, but I think I’ve built up a tolerance. I’m impressed you’ve made it this far.’
I tried to feel pleased that he was impressed, but right at that moment my body let out a noise that sounded like my ass had ripped in half. I yelped in surprise and could hear Matt laughing on the other side of the door.
‘Maybe you should go outside for a while,’ I suggested hopefully.
‘I tell you what. I’ll open the door just a tiny bit and slide your book to you and then I’ll turn the T.V. up really loud.’
‘Okay. Just don’t breathe in when you open the door.’
‘Believe me, I’ll be trying very hard not to.’
The door inched open just far enough for my book to be passed in and then with a flick of his wrist he slid it across the floor to me.
‘Did you get it?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I lied, looking at the book sitting a good metre from me. The last thing I wanted was him offering to come in and actually hand it to me. God knows he was nice enough to give it a shot.
‘Thanks,’ I said, reaching out my foot towards it. I heard the television turn on in the bedroom. ‘Louder,’ I yelled, still eyeing off the book. In the end, I managed to snare it with one end of a towel and drag it towards me.
The reading helped take my mind off the intestinal spasming, but occasionally the pain was all-consuming. During those moments, I rested my head on the wall next to me while I tried not to pass out.
Eventually I could stand up and move around without fear of spraying the walls. I flushed and then viewed the remaining mess in the bowl. That would never do. I flushed again and scrounged around under the sink looking for a toilet brush, breathing a sigh of relief when I found one. After I had finished cleaning, I jumped in the shower, relishing the feel of the warm water on my body. My poor stomach was still tender and I had pain radiating into my back.
When I finally emerged sheepishly into the bedroom, Matt was fast asleep with the light on and the TV blasting. His laptop lay open next to him. I turned off the television, closed down his computer making sure I saved everything and climbed in next to him. He stirred as I turned off the light and I felt him reach across the bed to me.
‘You all right now?’ he asked, touching my shoulder.
‘Better thanks, I think I’m done.’
‘I put a new bottle of water on your bedside table. Make sure you drink it during the night.’
‘Thanks.’ I took a bit of a slurp from the bottle and then nuzzled thankfully into my pillow. It felt great to be lying down. I was so exhausted I passed out straight away and for once slept the dreamless sleep of the dead.
* * *
I was feeling a bit better when Matt woke me. ‘Sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I let you sleep as long as I could but the driver’s been here for a while.’
‘Ohh,’ I said, sitting up in bed.
‘Are you well enough to travel?’ he asked concerned.
I paused to consider his question. ‘My stomach’s a bit sore but compared to last night I feel great,’ I finally answered.
‘Up for breakfast?’
‘Not breakfast, but black tea might be good.’
‘I’ll go get it while you get ready.’
I was up and dressed by the time he got back. We drank the tea sitting in the garden and then left the beautiful fort behind us. I trailed my hands over the vine-covered stone as we descended to the car.
‘Smile,’ I heard Matt say, looking up in time to see him snap a photo of me.
Then we were back in the car and heading for Jaipur. It seemed to take hardly any time to get there but the sun was starting to set when we arrived. I suspect I slept most of the way.
‘I can see why they call it the Pink City,’ I said, as we drove past building after building all painted the same shade of pink.
‘Can you believe they painted it pink to welcome King Edward VII when he came to visit?’
‘Wow, that’s quite a welcome. I wonder why pink?’
‘Maybe it was his favourite colour.’
‘What? You think he was gay?’ I asked.
Matt laughed in response but didn’t answer.
The driver pulled up in front of our hotel and I gingerly clambered from the back of the car. I slumped on a couch in the foyer while Matt completed our check in.
Matt and I had a beautiful room looking over the city with – yes – two big beds. I collapsed gratefully on to one, telling myself I would rest just for a little while. When I woke, it was dark except for the bedside lamp on the far side of the other bed. Matt was sitting on his bed typing rapidly and staring intently at the screen. I rolled over and was soon fast asleep again.
The next morning I was back to my old self. I woke before Matt, absolutely starving. I tried to be patient. I read my book for a little bit, but in the end, the ravenous hole in my centre needed to be filled. I threw a pillow at him and when he opened his eyes said, in a pitiful little voice, ‘I’m hungry.’
He rubbed his eyes sleepily as he processed the information and then smiled.
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said, ‘you didn’t eat anything yesterday. What do you feel like?’
‘Everything.’
‘Breakfast buffet?’
‘You just used my two favourite words in one sentence. How very clever of you.’
He laughed and sat up in bed. God, he really was gorgeous.
‘Do you want to have a shower first?’
Hmmm, if the question had have been – Do you want to have a shower with me first? – I certainly would have taken him up on the offer. Just watching him ruffle his hair had given me an entirely different appetite. But I was guessing that he wasn’t on the breakfast menu.
‘Nah,’ I said, ‘does that make me disgusting?’
‘After about a week it starts to get disgusting. Actually at the one week mark it stops being disgusting. I’ve never really understood it. Maybe you stop being able to smell yourself. Anyway I wouldn’t call 24 hours without a shower disgusting.’
‘That’s the longest paragraph I’ve ever heard you say.’
‘I think you’re starting to rub off on me.’
‘I’d like to rub off on you.’
(Just kidding, I didn’t really say it. But I wanted to. Considering in the past 36 hours the man had heard my body make more noises than a brass band, I was guessing he didn’t find me sexy.)
What I really said was, ‘Excellent. I’ve never really liked the strong, silent type.’ I hopped out of bed and disappeared just long enough to pull on some clothes. ‘Ready?’ I asked eagerly when I reappeared.
About thirty minutes later – when my hunger pains had finally subsided enough to think, I asked, ‘So what are we doing today?’
‘The City Palace and museum, Hawa Mahal, which used to house the Royal ladies, Jantar Mantar, Nahargarh and Galta, but not in one day. We’ll need a few days to do it all.’
‘I have no idea what you just said,’ I replied around a mouthful o
f pancake, ‘but it all sounds very interesting.’
We spent the next few days in our old routine. Sightseeing in the morning, I rested and read in the afternoon while he wrote, then out to dinner or the markets or both.
I was about to start creating the next chapter in my postcards from India series when Matt surprised me.
‘I bought this for you at the markets,’ he said, pulling out a brown paper bag.
Mystified I took it and pulled out a beautiful, teal green pashmina.
‘It’s lovely,’ I said, holding it up to admire the silky material. ‘When did you get this?’
‘Tonight, while you were looking at the wooden carving.’ He looked a little embarrassed as he said it. I stared at him wondering if he were blushing or if it were just my imagination.
‘Thank you,’ I finally said, running the soft material through my fingers. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ I swung it around my shoulders and hopped up to admire it in the mirror.
‘I was right,’ he said from behind me. ‘It looks lovely on you.’
I pirouetted in front of him – embarrassed and unsure what to say.
‘I bought my mother one as well,’ he said, pulling out a dove grey one.
‘That’s nice too,’ I said, ‘but I like mine better.’
He smiled and went back to his typing, leaving me sitting on the bed a little speechless. After a few minutes, I picked up my postcards and began to write.
Dearest Nat,
We are having a lovely time and are in Jaipur. I had my first bout of Delhi Belly the other night. Not at all a fun experience I can assure you. And pretty embarrassing as Matt could hear everything through the bathroom door. No vomiting thankfully. But the combination of that, and the bandits that tried to hold us up on the way to the fort we were staying at, (Don’t worry we’re fine,) seems to have done something good between us. ……… cont. on Dinah and Gloria’s card.
Dearest Dinah and Gloria,
………cont. from Nat’s card. Tonight he gave me a gorgeous pashmina he bought for me. Said he thought it looks lovely on me. That has to be good right? And it makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, he may like me a little bit as well. I mean I like him a hell of a lot more than just a little bit. The man is pretty much perfect. Too good for me by far. And then again maybe he just hates the clothes I wear ……. cont. on Elaine’s card.
Dearest Elaine,
…….cont. from Dinah’s card. But we did have to share a bed at the fort and I did wake up to find us holding hands in our sleep. So that also has to be a good thing. I know Elaine, you think I should have woken up holding a lot more than just his hand but it’s not like that. It’s new and fragile and special. Well to me it’s special. And now I have hope that it might be to him as well. I’m pathetic I know. Wish you were all here to chat. Miss you heaps. All my love Tara. Xxxxx
Dearest Lil and Martin,
Missing you both, but having a great time here in India. The other day Matt and I were held up by some bandits on the way to the fort we were staying at. I hid in the back seat while Matt handled them most efficiently. (Best not to tell Mum about the bandits.) I have also had my first bout of diarrhoea. Lil do you remember when we went to the Easter Show and I ate my whole liquorice show bag in one sitting? Well it was far worse than that. Love you, Tara. Xxxx
Dearest Mum and Dad,
Well we have made it to Jaipur, which is called the pink city because the whole city was painted pink back in 1876 when Prince Edward came to visit. They are still doing it to this day. We have spent the last three days here sight-seeing and tomorrow night we are catching an overnight train to Udaipur – The Lake City. Matt assures me we will be perfectly safe on the train so nothing to worry about Mum. Love you all, Tara. Xxxx
7
The Sixth Step to Closure – Have Meaningful Sex
‘Do you think all the pervs live at the train station?’ I asked Matt while we waited for the train to Udaipur. There had been a continuous stream of strange men staring at me since we arrived and it was starting to get a little unnerving.
‘It certainly looks that way,’ he replied as he shooed away another curious onlooker.
Finally, our train arrived and we clambered on. It was a sleeper train and we had managed to get beds one above the other, but I was still feeling a little vulnerable as we squeezed our way through the carriage with our bags.
‘Here we are,’ said Matt, stopping in front of two bunks. ‘Top or bottom?’
‘Top please,’ I said, nervously looking around. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of men in the cabin all showing an interest in my appearance.
We slid our backpacks under the bottom bed and then I climbed up to my bunk, pulling the little curtain around to give me total privacy. I sighed in relief and relaxed back onto the mattress.
I was, however, unable to sleep, even when the rocking motion of the train should have been lulling me into unconsciousness. I kept expecting someone to open my curtain to get a better look at me. Or worse – what if I fell asleep and woke to find someone climbing in with me? I was doing a pretty good job of freaking myself out and finally I gave up on sleep and clambered down to stand outside Matt’s curtain.
‘Matt,’ I whispered, looking nervously over my shoulder.
‘Matt,’ I said a little louder.
‘Matt!’ This time I poked what I hoped was his back through the curtain.
I heard a grunt accompanied by some movement and then his curtain pulled back a little. He peered at me with sleepy eyes.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m scared,’ I said pitifully.
To his credit, he didn’t mock me. He just stared at me for a few seconds and then peered out past me. Most of the other passengers had climbed into bed and pulled their curtains, but there were still a few strange men sitting around on their bunks. He patted the side of the bed closest to the wall and said, ‘Get in.’
I clambered over him trying not to stick my knees or elbows into any really sensitive parts. ‘Thanks,’ I said as I lay down. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be getting a six course breakfast on this train.’
‘I don’t think we’ll be getting any breakfast.’
It was a little cramped for the two of us – we could only fit if we both lay on our sides, but I immediately felt safer lying there next to him.
‘This is only going to work if I put my arm over you,’ Matt said. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No that’s all right,’ I said, trying to sound nonchalant when in reality my heart had started beating a little faster.
He slid one arm over me and I tensed, trying to stay as still as I could.
‘Okay?’ he asked me.
‘Ahuh,’ I said a little nervously.
I found myself thinking that the last time we were in this position we had been naked. Damn. That didn’t help in the getting to sleep department either. If anything, every fibre of me was aware of the weight of his arm and the feel of his body. My skin had come alive and I could feel lust unfurling in my belly. Oh great, I was totally turned on. I lay there for what seemed like forever waiting for some movement from him, some little noise that would indicate that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. In the end I realised I was listening to the soft noises of his breath as he slept.
It certainly wasn’t the most comfortable train ride I have ever had – well before morning my body was screaming to be allowed to stretch out in all directions – but it was by far the most enjoyable one. Matt woke me when we arrived in Udaipur and it took me a while to get the kinks out of my neck and back. I noticed him stretching as well.
‘Sorry.’ I smiled ruefully at him indicating his neck.
‘Sadly I have to do this every morning,’ he told me.
‘So it’s not because I turned your bed into a sardine can last night?’
‘Well maybe a little,’ he admitted as he helped me down from the train and onto the platform.
There was a hotel car waiting for us at the front of the station
. It drove us past a huge lake which had a number of buildings built in it.
‘Wow,’ I said, looking out of the window.
The buildings seemed to emerge from the lake. It wasn’t like an island had been made and then the building built, but the walls actually disappeared down into the lake.
‘Do you think they have rising damp issues?’ I asked Matt.
‘Probably. I guess to them it would be normal.’
I was delighted to find that the hotel we were staying at was near the lake.
‘Can you see the lake from our room?’ I asked the porter as we followed him up the winding staircase.
‘Madam from your room you have excellent views of the Lake Palace Hotel,’ he informed us proudly. The tone in his voice stopped me from asking what the Lake Palace Hotel was. I didn’t want to disappoint him and I had my trusty Lonely Planet in my bag. ‘And,’ he continued, ‘today we are running complimentary cooking courses for all house guests. You will come, yes?’
‘Of course,’ I answered, looking at Matt for confirmation.
He was correct about the view from our room. It looked out over an area of the lake, which housed a spectacular white building.
‘Lake Palace Hotel?’ I asked Matt.
‘The one and only. I might have a shower before the cooking course. Did you want to go first?’
‘No, you go. I want to read about the Lake Palace Hotel,’ I said, staring out the window.
I heard the water in the shower turn on and a noise I associated with a zipper being undone. Good God – I could actually hear him undressing. Grabbing my Lonely Planet I moved onto the deck where I tried valiantly to concentrate on the words on the page and not the sound of Matt in the shower. I wasn’t very successful.
The cooking course, consisting of us and two other girls, was excellent. I took notes while Matt took photos, and then we all made chapatti – a type of Indian bread. When it finished the four of us had lunch together.
I hadn’t paid much attention to the other two girls during the course – being quite intent on my note making – so I didn’t notice them noticing Matt. It did, however, become quite apparent during lunch, just how much noticing of Matt they had done.
The Seven Steps to Closure Page 25
