Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After his discreet arrival in Mumbai Romain went to one of the populous neighborhoods and looked for a store where he had been years before but whose address he did not remember. After wandering on foot for hours he stopped in front of a dilapidated building with a sign in English and Hindi announcing its occupant was a tailor. Without hesitation Romain entered the store ringing the bells on the door. A seventy-year-old Indian leaning on a cutting table raised his eyes from the newspaper he was reading and looked at him over his spectacles. The man hesitated a moment and then stammered.

"Romain, is it really you?"

The Canadian smiled and came up with open arms. Time had treated Yashodar Virendra well.

The two men embraced and the Hindu could not help a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Forgive me. It's a clear sign that I'm getting old.”

"You are an old bandit indeed!" Replied Romain, laughing, passing his hand over the pieces of worsted and other fabrics on the working table of his interlocutor. "So, you have returned to the office of tailor and seem to be doing very well.”

"It's the trade of my family, and I never left it…well, except at the time we met. But now it allows me to earn a living with peace of mind, without so many risks.” Yashodar did not relieve the newcomer out of his embrace, showing the satisfaction he had to see him. “But tell me. What are you doing in Mumbai and why did not you tell me that you were coming?”

“Yashi, the truth is that a few days ago I was floating in the Indian Ocean hugging a piece of destroyed plane until I arrived at a desert islet.”

The Indian grimaced in amazement. He went to the door of the shop, turned an open sign around and then locked the door. Then he took his friend by the arm and led him into the store.

"Come, you must tell me everything that has happened since the last time we met."

The conversation took place in front of two glasses of whiskey and lasted a couple of hours. When Romain concluded his narrative the Hindu remained silent for a while scratching his beard. Yashodar had a privileged brain and his remarkable characteristic was to evaluate complicated situations and to obtain a luminous synthesis. Romain had explained in detail the evolution of recent events and was awaiting the advice of the old man.

“What will you do now?”

"In the first place, borrow a few rupees from an old friend who now claims to be a tailor, and then go to the Consulate of Canada to obtain a passport."

"You won´t get it right away."

“I know.”

"Where are you going to stay in the meantime? You do not want to be seen.”

"That's true, too.”

"You can stay here, I mean in the store." He got up from his chair and pulled back a curtain of cloth. Behind it, Romain glimpsed a small room with a cot and some modest pieces of furniture.

"I accept your hospitality. I will also need to get in touch with my bank in Andorra. But for that I will need to have the subject of my passport resolved first.”

"Regarding the rupees, count on them." Yashodar said with a smile. "But you know I charge a high interest rate.”

"As I said before, you're an old thug.”

Yashi had lent him a disposable cell phone, of which the Hindu had several he used in God knows what activities he wanted to keep hidden.

Romain had dialed Alisha's number who soon answered the call.

“Hello. It's me." He said succinctly.

"Ah! Hi R…”

"Shhh." Romain had already explained to the girl not to use his name, particularly in phone conversations that could be monitored in a sign of caution that sounded paranoid to her and he himself accepted could be exaggerated. The conversation continued in French and with many half words that only made sense to them. In short, the man said he would go to look for her the next day at the hotel and recommended that she wore traditional Hindu garments and showed a partially covered face.

"I do not know yet where we stand and no precaution is excessive." He explained.

The taxi driver, an acquaintance from the neighborhood where Yashi had his workshop, parked his car in front of the hotel. Romain had ruled out the rickshaws and other traditional Indian transports because the passengers are exposed and in plain view. Without getting out of the car he called Alisha on her cell phone and after a few moments the girl left the hotel wrapped in a traditional Indian dress according to the instructions received. As she got into the car the girl threw herself into the arms of her man while the taxi driver started and got lost in the traffic chaos of Mumbai in a daytime.

Both lovers kissed passionately after almost a week of separation. His hands tried to slip between the folds of the woman's outfit, forcing Alisha to stop him with a certain rudeness, while the taxi driver could barely look at the traffic for having his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror while displaying a wide smile in his mouth.

"You're keeping the driver distracted and will cause a crash." Said she.

Yashi had come out with the excuse of going to take measurements to a client for a suit, but actually to leave the field free to his friend. Romain had a copy of the store key and they both went in and closed the door immediately. The man led the young woman to the room where he had been living during that short period and watched her face twitch in a gesture of dissatisfaction.

"Where are you bringing me? This place is a pigsty. Do you think I'm a cheap Indian prostitute whom you can disrespect?”

Romain took her pitying face in his hands and covered it with kisses.

"I'm sorry, my love. At the moment it is the place where we can meet without risks. You know that my first priority is to keep you free of any danger. On the other hand I assure you that Yashi keeps this place perfectly neat and these days I'm in charge of cleaning myself.”

Both gave free rein to their long repressed instincts despite the heat in the small room, which a tiny fan could not dissipate. The young woman's frown had turned into a wide smile.

“Tell me. What have you done since you left the yacht? Have not you left this dump in a week?”

"Yes, I went out almost every day taking the same precautions as today. I was already at the Canadian consulate and in a couple of days they will give me my new passport. I was also able to contact my bank and I am already in contact with my money. Until yesterday I was living with loans from my friend Yashi.”

"How did you get to know him?"

"You do not want to know.”

"Is he really a tailor?"

“Among other things.”

"But you have confidence in him." The latter was a statement rather than a question.

“Absolute. In the past I saved his life, and Yashi does not forget ... neither his friends nor his enemies.”

"Is he a man of action?"

"He has been a man of action all right, and still has a lot of courage.”

Romain changed the tenor of the conversation and made the girl tell him what she had done in the period of separation, mostly social activities linked to her father's business.

"What is Vijai really doing?"

"I cannot tell you exactly what he does. I am only part of the decoration and as such I have access to the social repercussions of their activities. But you have already seen them in Victoria, he has lots of contacts with businessmen from India and the rest of Asia and his activity has to do with financial investments of large sums of money.”

“Yes. He likely helps wealthy people to take their fortunes of spurious origin out of India and elsewhere, particularly of the conflictive sites of Asia and Africa.”

The man considered for a moment and asked again.

"And what role does Jack Brody play in that context?"

“ Jack is papa´s main partner. The yacht, the girls and all the paraphernalia they use are simply seductive elements for their customers. There are times when they do not take me on their excursions and from what the crewmembers tell me on those trips the boat becomes a floating brothel.”

Again, an idea hung around the young man's mind and this time he expressed it aloud.

“In this game nothing is what it seems.”

“Neither you.”

“Me neither.”

The Canadian changed the philosophical tone of the last sentences with a phrase of practical tone.

"Did you keep what I gave you?"

"It is perfectly safe. Do not worry.”

Both youngsters resumed their caresses remaining abstracted from reality and the passage of time until Alisha accidentally looked at her watch and jumped on the bed.

"My father must be very worried. I must return to the hotel.”

Resignedly, Romain got up and answered.

"I'll call the taxi driver again. I'll leave you safe and sound in the place where I picked you up.”