Finding Arun by Marisha Pink Page A

make of the
news of Catherine’s death? It was clear that they had enjoyed a
lifelong friendship, to say nothing of the fact that for years
Kalpana had vicariously experienced motherhood through her friend.
He wondered too whether she would be shocked to learn that he had
believed her to be dead, or whether that was a condition of the
mysterious ‘agreement’ that she had referred to in her letter.
There was so much that Aaron wanted to ask her and he hoped that it
would not be too much for her to handle in her sickly state.
Whatever was wrong with her sounded serious and the irony of
another mother being unable to get out of bed and wishing to see
him was not lost on him.
    He checked the clock beside the bed once more; it
was past four o’clock and at last time to get up. He wasn’t quite
ready to face full illumination, so he switched on the bedside lamp
above his head, allowing his eyes the time to adjust. In the
shadows of the dimly lit room, he rolled out of bed and began to
dress himself in a tracksuit and T-shirt, not too dissimilar from
that which he had gone to bed in. He would be inappropriately
attired for the weather that awaited him regardless of what he
opted to wear, but the chilly May morning made warm clothes
non-negotiable and he wanted to ensure that he would be as
comfortable as possible during the long flight.
    He perched on the end of the bed and flicked through
his travel wallet, double-checking for his boarding pass and
passport, the sound of his mother’s voice reeling off a pre-travel
checklist in his head. She had always been present when he was
preparing to travel, alerting him to things that he wasn’t seasoned
enough to consider himself, and though it felt strange that she was
not physically there, it comforted him to know that she was still
somewhere in his subconscious. Once he was satisfied that he had
everything that he needed, he clicked the padlocks on his backpack
into place and eased the straps over his shoulders. Despite
Arthur’s many reservations, travelling with his backpack in Africa
had been so easy and flexible that the prospect of dragging a
suitcase through the busy streets of India whilst he tried to
locate his birth mother was a distinctly unappealing thought. He
grabbed the smaller rucksack, now containing his travel wallet,
and, glancing around the room one last time, clicked the bedside
lamp off and began to make his way towards the ground floor of the
house.
    He was met at the foot of the stairs by a
half-conscious Arthur and an excitable Aunt Ruby who, dressed in an
unflattering blue nightgown, hadn’t wanted to miss the opportunity
to wish Aaron well one last time.
    ‘All set?’ yawned Arthur, lazily rubbing the sleep
from his eyes.
    Aaron nodded enthusiastically in response.
    ‘Look after yourself, won’t you dear? And make sure
to call when you arrive. And let us know how you get on with
finding Kalpana. And don’t forget to take the malaria tablets. And
remember not to drink the –’
    ‘For God’s sake Ruby, it’s too early for this,’
interrupted Arthur irritably.
    She scowled at him and reached forward, pulling
Aaron into a tight embrace. Aaron stooped to accept it and returned
her affections with a gentle squeeze of his own.
    ‘I’m really going to miss you, dear.’
    ‘I’m going to miss you too, Aunt Ruby.’
    Arthur rolled his eyes impatiently.
    ‘Right, let’s go,’ he barked, opening the front door
and stalking across the expansive drive towards his Land Rover.
    As the engine roared to life, the white beam of the
headlights passed through the open front door, lighting Aunt Ruby’s
tear-stained face.
    ‘Oh Aunt Ruby, don’t cry,’ Aaron soothed, taking her
in his arms once more. ‘I’ll only be gone for a little while, and
remember my next big trip is to come and visit you in Australia,’
he offered reassuringly.
    Unable to speak, Aunt Ruby merely nodded between her
sniffles and, releasing herself from his grip, shooed him out