Journey From the Summit (4 page)

Chapter Six

In the days that followed I continued to work all the hours I could. I spoke to no-one and kept my thoughts focused on saving my money. I was now even more determined to get out to him. It’s amazing how you can surprise yourself at your own reactions to stressful circumstances when you are faced with them. I learnt something new about myself in those weeks of distress. I realized that I am someone who deals with tough situations by trying to find a practical way to contribute to the restoration of them, and as I couldn’t help him by being here, I was more determined than ever to get myself to him.

I longed to hear from him, needing to know that he was okay. Adam called once or twice to tell us that they were trying to get bail, but so far it hadn’t happened. My imagination conjured up the very worst things. Were the guards cruel? Were they or fellow inmates bullying him? How could he share such a cramped space with so many frustrated, wearied prisoners and not have some confrontations? Maybe there were murderers with him, or gangsters, hardened criminals who knew only cruelty and oppression. I prayed that he would be safe, and that no harm would come to him.

At last, one evening when I arrived home from work, Elsie, Cathy’s mum, told me that a letter had arrived for me. She made me a cup of tea, and told me to go and sit quietly and read it, knowing I would want to be alone.

Dear Flossie,

I know that Adam has called you to tell you what’s happened to me, and I hope you are not upset with me for getting into this mess.

I hadn’t written to you sooner because I expected to be out and able to call you myself and explain, but it’s dragging on a bit longer than I thought it would, because I think they are trying to extract more money from us.

I love you so much. It won't be long until I get out of here and we can be together. Adam is working hard to sort things, and it’s just a matter of time before I am out, at least on bail if not fully. It sucks that this has happened, but Adam says it happens a lot, and we just need some money to pay off the police, and the authorities, as that’s the way things seem to work here – he’s spoken to people whom it’s happened to, and they got out fine, so it shouldn’t be for long.

It is shit in here, though, and if I didn’t know I was getting out soon, I might go mad! It’s two o’clock in the morning now, and the prison cell is at last quiet enough that I can find some peace to write to you. All around me on the floor are sweaty sleeping bodies; we are like sardines all lined up in one cell. The only noises I can hear are snoring and scratching, and the odd fart, from my cellmates. Apart from that it’s just the clunky whirring of the ceiling fan as it pushes the stale air round and round slowly, and of course the ever present cicadas as they keep time with the fan outside. The light stays on all night so the guards can keep an eye on us, and check we are not killing each other or ourselves. Cockroaches willingly share the little space we have, crawling over the sleeping bodies.

In one corner of the room there is a hole in the floor for us to use as a toilet. As you can imagine there is not much privacy for this, just a wall around one side, and hygiene is non-existent here. The flies and mosquitos love it – it’s the perfect breeding ground for disease. I get to leave this space once a day for half an hour, when I can walk around the courtyard outside and stretch my stiffened legs. I try to do a little exercise in here, maybe a few push-ups and sit-ups, to keep from getting too weak, but the stifling heat and overcrowded space doesn’t fill me with much motivation.

We get three meals a day. Breakfast, at 6 am, is a roll and cup of sickly sweet chai – a black tea with so much sugar in it it’s more like treacle. For lunch at midday we get a bowl of rice, a chapatti and a runny curry sauce, usually garnished with two tiny salty fish. Dinner , is served at 6pm and is usually the same as lunch. At 9pm it’s time to sleep whether you want to or not, and they shout at you to be quiet. Having sat in the stuffy cell all day and done little else it’s hard to feel tired enough to sleep, so your mind keeps you awake, although the exhaustion from boredom and the suffocating heat leaves you physically drained.

I have made friends with one or two cellmates who can speak English. I’m even learning a few words in Hindi, which they all laugh at. There is an Italian and a German in here with me so we kind of hang out together, playing cards, or an Indian game I’ve learnt called Carom, a board game similar to billiards.

I think about you every day and dream of you every night. Your photo is the only thing I was allowed to keep, and that’s here with me now. I know I’ve let you down, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know it’s hard for you too, knowing that I’m in here, but I’m sure by the time you get to Thailand this will all be over and we will be together.

I love you with all my heart. Please write to me soon.

Saul. xxxx

Envisaging him in that stifling, overcrowded prison cell was unbearable. Selfishly, part of me wished he hadn’t told me how horrible it was for him, so that I didn’t see it every time I pictured him. I wanted to imagine he was comfortable, at the very least. At least I had heard from him though, and knew that although he was having an inconceivably tough time, that no real harm had come to him.

I sat down straight away to write back, wishing its delivery could be instant. I wanted to tell him I loved him, and thought of him every minute; I wanted him to know that I was suffering too, not physically, but emotionally I was in my own personal hell.

I picked up my pen and flimsy airmail paper and began to write to him:

I wonder can you feel my fear

Shaking my world to its core,

As I sit at home and wait

For the outcome of foreign law?

Do you know how sad I am

That you are not at peace?

Nothing my friends do or say

Can make me feel at ease.

I had a dream the other night

You stood calling out to me.

But the tunnel was long,

The door was locked;

I could not find a key.

How could I know

That very night

While bad dreams

Filled my head,

Was the first night

That you lay

On a cold, hard prison bed?

Now what can I do

But sit and wait

Forever by the phone,

And wonder if you’ll ever know

How much I feel alone.

I got up from the bed and looked into the evening sky. Could he see the sky from his prison cell? If he could then maybe he was looking at the sky too, from between bars. Could he feel my love from the stars he could see? I hoped so. More than anything I really hoped that somehow he could.

When Adam called again, it was to tell us that they had granted bail! He was coming out and they would reconvene in the courts again in a fortnight. At least he was getting out; he wouldn’t have to endure any more the terrible living conditions he had been exposed to, and he could be with his friends while he waited. It was still a very worrying time, but it gave me great relief to know he did not have to suffer anymore. Adam told us he would get Saul to call me when he came out, but we might have to wait, as they had a plan. I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, but had to trust Adam – he was there, and had got Saul bail, so he must know what he was doing.

The days passed slowly while we waited for more news. But at least now we felt much more optimistic, and began planning our trip again, excitedly discussing our reunion with the boys.

A whole week went by and still Saul had not called. I felt sure he would have been in touch by now, and began to think that something wasn’t right. Every night we waited for the phone to ring, with news from the boys.

Finally we got a call, but it was not what we were expecting.

It was Adam. “Floss, I’m sorry. I don’t want to tell you this. Saul’s been re-arrested.”

I laughed. Adam was such a joker – always the comedian, even in this situation! It was an admirable quality. “Ha, ha – yes, nice try Adam! So where’s Saul, can I speak to him now?”

“Floss! This isn’t a joke. I haven’t got much money, please listen. He was released on bail four days ago. We had a driver booked who took us straight to Bombay, where we laid low for a couple of days in a cheap guesthouse. We couldn’t call as there was no phone and we didn’t want to attract attention by going out looking for one. We tried to leave the country; we were booked on a flight to Bangkok, but they called his name on the flight and hauled him off. Flossie, he’s on his way back to Goa. He’s going back to jail. I’m already back here.”

I could hear the desperation in Adam’s voice. This wasn’t one of his pranks. He sounded exhausted and emotional.

“Oh my God Adam! How did this happen, what shall we do?” I cried.

“Flossie, my money is running out, I have to go. Go to Thailand as we planned, I will sort this out. I will get him out.” he said boldly, his voice was tinged with doubt.

The line went dead. Cathy was looking at me. Having heard only half the conversation, I had to try and tell her what little I knew.

“This is a bloody joke. Why the hell were they trying to leave the country if he was on bail? Oh my God!! I don’t believe this is happening! We are supposed to be leaving in just over two weeks to go to Thailand. Now they are never going to meet us!” she said exasperated.

I understood her frustration, but at least her boyfriend wasn’t banged up! I know he was doing all he could, and Saul’s plight was as much his, but he was free! If push came to shove, he could meet Cathy.

“Look Cathy, Adam said he would sort it. He managed to get bail for Saul, so he must have some idea what’s going on – we will just have to go ahead with our plans and hope they show up in Thailand – even if we have to wait there for a while!”

Our brief happiness at the news of Saul’s bail had been snuffed out like a candle. Now we had been plunged back into the darkness of the unknown once again, where hope was but a dim spark.

London in the grey drizzle of February seemed to envelop me, infusing me with its gloom as I went about my daily life. People huddled into their winter coats, heads down as they scurried about their daily business. No-one looked up from the ground, no-one smiled, or made eye contact. It seemed like the whole world had a weight on its shoulders, my feelings mirrored everywhere I looked. If we hadn’t had our flights booked, giving us something to look towards, I don’t know how I would have coped.

Most of my friends were supportive and called me as often as they could, but it was hard with me living in London and them being back in my home town, especially as I worked such long hours and barely had the chance to go back and visit. I missed them all terribly.

Then one day, out of the blue I got a phone call at work from Steve. He rang and asked if I would like to come down for the weekend. He said he knew how upset I must be feeling, especially with the news of Saul’s re-arrest and thought it would be nice to come back home and see everyone before I left. I could catch up with all my friends and stay over at his house.

I was really surprised. After the way he had treated me when Saul and I first met, he was the last person I expected support from. Apart from arranging the party we had thrown for Saul, Steve had had no time for me. Maybe his fondness for Saul was making him re-assess his treatment of me – perhaps he wanted to make amends for Saul’s sake if not for mine. I thought it would be a lovely idea. I needed to see my friends and really hadn’t seen them much at all since moving away.

I arrived at Steve’s house on the Friday after work.

“Wow, you look great Floss,” he said approvingly. Although the compliment was out of character for him, I truly felt he was making an effort to be a friend to me.

We went out to the pub and met up with everyone. Sal and Jimmy were there, and both gave me huge warm hugs. There was a party going on in the pub that most of our friends were at, and I let myself relax and enjoy the reassurance of being with people I had known for a long time. For the first time in weeks, despite my worries, I let go and enjoyed myself. I sat with Sal and poured my heart out, allowing her to comfort me as she listened. Jimmy, in his usual style, made me laugh and I could feel the tension unwinding and loosening its grip on me as my friends gave me their support.

After a few drinks Steve suggested we get back, and hook up with them all again the next day. I was a little surprised he wanted to leave early, but I was tired and happy to go back. I thought he might want to spend some time talking about what was happening with Saul in private.

At Steve’s house there was no TV in the lounge, only in his room, so when he suggested taking a cup of tea upstairs to watch a film, I didn’t feel suspicious. We sat and watched a movie, and then I felt myself begin to wilt with fatigue as the credits began to roll. I was looking forward to curling up in Saul’s old bed. 

“I’m off to bed now Steve, thanks for a really great evening!” I said, moving to stand up.

But it seemed Steve had other ideas! He put his hand on my thigh,