I Put a Spell on You (27 page)

Back in my room, I wrapped my hair in a towel and lay on the bed in my underwear. I was so relieved to be away from my fellow travellers. Honestly, Tess, you know me. I’m a calm person. But seriously, three weeks with those hippies is enough to drive the peace and love out of any girl. I didn’t want to go on to Nepal with them. I was beginning to think I didn’t want to leave Delhi at all. I was so fed up with always travelling and never arriving. I just wanted to be still somewhere. I just wasn’t sure where to do it.

I dozed off and when I woke it was dark outside and I was starving. I quickly got dressed and wandered outside in search of food.

The streets were quieter now and the heat had lessened a bit. I walked back towards where the bus had dropped us off then stopped suddenly as I saw Shannon and a rowdy group of other travellers from my bus up ahead. I really, really didn’t want to bump into them, so I ducked into a doorway and watched as they laughed and whooped their way past. Shannon was wearing gladiator sandals that laced up her legs and her toes were dusty. I watched her feet go by my hiding place and held my breath. Just as she and her pals danced by, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Who are you hiding from?” a soft Irish voice said.

I’m not joking, I jumped about a foot in the air, thinking I’d been sprung. I whipped round, excuses ready, and saw another girl from the bus. She had red hair and freckles sprinkled across her nose. I hadn’t spoken to her much on the trip because she hadn’t really spoken to anyone, but I knew her name was Clara.

I eyed her warily.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I said.

She grinned, suddenly looking very young and very cheeky.

“You were,” she said. “You were hiding from Shannon.”

She leaned closer to me and I smelled patchouli oil. We all smell of patchouli oil, I’ve got to be honest. Maybe I should find a new scent?

Anyway, she leaned into me and chuckled.

“I was hiding from her as well.”

She laughed again, her giggles low and husky and I couldn’t help laughing as well.

“I was on the hunt for something to eat,” I said. “Fancy joining me?”

She peered round me at Shannon, who was disappearing down the street, then cocked her head in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go that way,” she said.

We wandered down the road, chatting all the way, and stopped at a small café. It smelled amazing and my stomach growled loudly. Inside, we sat at a Formica table and I smiled at the waitress. She was young and pretty, with her shiny dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

“Is there a menu?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“It’s all good,” she said. “I will bring you.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“I hope she won’t be too long,” said Clara. “I’m starving.”

The waitress brought a jug of water and some chapattis and we tucked in. As we ate, I studied my new friend.

“Why did you come?” I asked through a mouthful of bread.

She shrugged and beamed at the waitress as she put plates of curry in front of us.

“I wanted to get away,” she said. “The bus was cheap and I thought I’d meet interesting people.”

“Did you?”

“Nope. I met a load of identikit hippies.”

I was hurt by that, Tess. I’d already decided I liked her and she was dismissing me.

But she hadn’t finished.

“Not you, though,” she said. “You’re different.”

I slight ripple of anxiety ran through me. What did she mean, different? I changed the subject.

“Are you interesting?” I asked.

Clara laughed again.

“Not even a tiny bit,” she admitted. “There’s nothing interesting about me.”

So I told her all about you, Tess, and regaled her with some twin stories as we ate. She was good company and I was almost sorry she’d been gone with the bus in a few days – I’d already decided I wasn’t going with them.

When we’d finished our food, the café was almost empty. The waitress came to take our plates and smiled at us.

“Good?” she said.

“Amazing.” I patted my stomach in appreciation.

“Are you English?” she asked.

“Scottish,” I said. “Clara’s Irish.”

“Ah,” she replied. She glanced towards the kitchen, then sat down opposite me. “Are you with the others?”

I shook my head.

“We’re not with anyone,” I sort of lied. “Who were the others?”

She explained that a group of Scots had been in recently, on their way to a commune nearby.

“A commune?” I said, an idea growing in my mind. “Do you know where it is?”

My eyes met Clara’s across the table. She nodded.

The waitress scribbled an address on a napkin for me. And suddenly, with a thrill of excitement, I knew exactly what I was doing next. And it looked like Clara was coming too.

So we’re off tomorrow. I’ll write soon and let you know how we get on.

Lots of love, Suky

Xxx

Thursday, March 16
^th
1972

Dear Tess

We’re here! It’s wonderful. I’ve got so much to tell you.

The day after I met Clara and we hatched our plan, I left my hostel early. It was still cool and there was a mist hanging over the quiet streets. I felt expectation hanging in the air and my nerves were jangling like one of Shannon’s bracelets.

I pinned a note for the bus driver on a message board close to the bus station explaining I wasn’t going to be joining them as they travelled to Nepal. Then I went to the tiny kiosk that served as a ticket office, where Clara was waiting. She was wearing a huge wide-brimmed straw hat pulled down over her forehead.

“Like it?” she asked. “I bought it from a stall on my way back to the hotel last night. I thought we should be incognito.”

I looked at myself – I was wearing my favourite battered jeans (actually, thinking about it, they might be your favourite jeans. Sorry about that!) and a smocky top that billowed in the morning breeze. Despite her hat, Clara and I stuck out like a sore thumb among the local people queuing for buses. 
Laughing hysterically, we bought tickets to Diwana. It’s several miles north – honestly I’m covering distances here that we’d be shocked at back home. It’s different somehow.

The bus was uncomfortable and hot, but I didn’t care. It dropped us off on the outskirts of the town and we watched it drive off in a cloud of dust, like a baddie in a cowboy film. Then I looked at the map I’d bought in Delhi and pointed.

“That way,” I said. We both hoisted our tatty rucksacks onto our backs and started walking.

It was greener here than in Delhi and there were more trees, so it was cooler. There were a few houses dotted around by the track or set further back, and there were some women and children around. They all nodded at us as we passed but paid us no real attention.

Eventually, after about half an hour, we reached the end of the track. There was a wooden fence with an open gate.

“Is this it?” Clara whispered.

I looked at the napkin the waitress had scribbled on.

“I think so,” I whispered back, not sure why we were being quiet.

There was no one around, so we walked slowly through the gates, a bubble of excitement popping in my stomach.

The fence enclosed a circle of about 10 wooden huts, with a grassy area in the middle. To the side was a much bigger hut with trestle tables outside. Washing flapped on a line in front of us but apart from that everything was still and quiet.

In the middle of the circle of huts sat a group of people, all cross-legged with their eyes closed. They were facing a bare-chested young man who was wearing baggy trousers and a scarf wrapped round his head. He was chanting softly under his breath. He had dark skin and I could see he had long dark hair under the scarf.

He was very, very handsome. Clara and I both stared at him for a few minutes, open-mouthed. I was trying not to drool! I wasn’t sure what to do next.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he looked at us. I felt like we’d been caught doing something naughty – but then he smiled. And, oh boy, what a smile. 
“Hello, girls,” he said. In a Scottish accent! He’s Scottish! No wonder the waitress thought I was heading here.

“Are you staying?”

“Yes please,” Clara squeaked.

I couldn’t speak at all.

“Put your bags down,” the man said. “ And come and join in.”

What else could we do, Tess? We did exactly as he’d asked!

More later, my lovely. Hope your course is going well. Any handsome men caught your eye?

Lots of love

Sx

Tuesday April 11 1972

Dear Tess

It’s amazing to think we’ve only been here a month. Already I feel part of the fabric of the place. Everyone has been so welcoming and I felt straight away that I was among friends. Actually, speaking of friends, because we’d arrived together, everyone treated Clara and me as a twosome from the off – they gave us a hut to share – and we’ve already fallen into the pattern of being friends. People even mix us up and call me Clara sometimes, even though we don’t look at all alike. It’s a bit odd for me, I must admit, and yet strangely familiar. We’ve never really needed friends, you and me, have we? We’ve always just had each other. But Clara seems to be filling the Tess-shaped gap in my life quite nicely. Not as nicely as you’d fill it! Don’t worry. It seems I’m destined to always be one of two. I can’t say I dislike it though – I think I’m a team player!

On the subject of teams, we have those here. Lots of them! I’m on the kitchen team, so as well as the yoga, meditation and chitchat that takes up my day, I do a lot of cooking. And I love it. Other people work in the garden, or clean, or go into the village where they’re helping the local people build a new school.

I feel like I’m doing something really worthwhile, you know? And I’m doing it all with hard graft – no magic. None. Well, maybe a bit. But nothing big, just little bits here and there.

Clara isn’t the only amazing person here. Everyone is just so special. But most special of all is Dhani, the guy who was leading the meditation when I arrived. This is his place. It was all his idea. He’s such an inspiration. He’s calm, and kind, and so handsome. Not that I think of him like that of course, he’s more like a big brother. A very handsome, big brother.

Actually, already I’m starting to think there might be something going on between Dhani and Clara. It’s not that they spend a lot of time together. In fact, it’s the opposite; they’re never together. And the way they ignore each other so deliberately makes me wonder…

Anyway, like I said when I wrote last, can you believe Dhani’s Scottish? I thought he was Indian, because of his dark skin and his amazing spirituality. So when he first spoke to me, I nearly fell over. He’s from Glasgow (I know! It’s not really known for its yogis, is it?) though he’s lived in India for yonks. I feel we’ve got a connection – Scots abroad and all that. There are lots of us here – that waitress in Delhi should be on commission for sending all the Celts this way! But actually, I’m wondering if the connection I feel to Dhani is more than just our shared geography. I’m not one of those witches who can sense another witch, not really. Not like Mum – you know how she gets goosebumps if she senses another one nearby? But there’s something about Dhani. Something ‘other’. And once, out of the corner of my eye, I’m sure I saw a slight shimmer around him. I might ask Clara about him – I reckon she knows a lot more about him than the rest of us. I’m desperate to find out if she and him are an item. Watch this space!

Love Sx

Thursday, April 20
^th
1972

Dear Tess

So, I was right about Dhani. All of it. Well, the bit about him and Clara definitely. The witch bit, I’m still not sure. But I think I’m right.

Clara fessed up to everything, with only the tiniest bit of prompting from me. She says they’re in love and they’re going to be together forever and raise beautiful children here in India. But, she says, Dhani doesn’t want anyone to know about them – not yet – because it’s still early days for the commune and he’s ‘worried about its equilibrium’. No, I don’t know what that means either, but Clara is convinced.

I hope she’s not getting in too deep, too quickly. We’ve not been here that long. I’ve never been in love so who knows how fast you can fall, but it just all seems a bit quick. Mind you, Dhani is so open and honest, I can’t imagine he’d say things he didn’t mean. Perhaps I’m just a bit jealous. I can’t pretend I wouldn’t have leapt at the chance for a bit of romance with our handsome leader!

I haven’t asked Clara about Dhani’s ‘otherness’. Not yet. But I’ve decided to keep my eye on him, just in case…

Sx

Chapter 41

Sunday, May 14
^th
. 1972

Dear Tess

Oh Tess. Dhani is such an amazing person. I’ve been spending some time with him, just chatting, and his views on the world are so inspirational. I feel he really listens to me and he’s done so much good here – empowering the members of the commune and helping the locals. Mind you, they don’t seem to need much help – they always look a bit bewildered when I see them, as if they’re not quite sure what we’re doing there. But Dhani says we can spread the spirit of benevolence. So that’s what we do.

And did I mention he’s very handsome? Of course, knowing how in love he and Clara are, I don’t see him as anything other than a mentor. But sometimes, when we’re talking, and he stares into my eyes, sometimes I think he’s going to kiss me.