Karin Fossum - Calling Out For You aka The Indian Bride

Poona's only family was an older brother who lived in New Delhi. She wanted to write to him and tell him about her marriage. And in addition she needed to tie up the loose ends of her life in the Indian city before travelling to Norway. She would need about a fortnight. Gunder booked and paid for her ticket. Explained to her about transfers and Gardermoen airport. He gave her money so that she would not be short of anything. Wrote down his address and telephone number in neat numbers and letters.

"Will your brother be hurt when you tell him this?" he asked anxiously.

"No, no," said Poona, sure of herself. "We hardly ever see each other. Shiraz lives his own life. Has a wife and four children. I like cooking," she said. "I'll make chicken curry for you and your sister when I get to Norway."

"And I'll make Norwegian lamb stew," Gunder told her happily. "Mutton and cabbage."

"Is it spicy?" she said.

"We don't have spicy food in Norway. Bring lots of spices with you, Poona. Then we'll make Marie and Karsten sweat a bit."

She pondered this for a while. "What will your sister say once she meets me?"

"She'll be pleased," Gunder said. "Alarmed at first, but then she'll be pleased. She doesn't like me living on my own. She's always telling me that I ought to travel a bit. Now I'm bringing the whole world back with me." He laughed, and hugged her tightly. He couldn't stop himself from touching the plait at the nape of her neck with his hand. It was hard and tight and shiny like silk. When she tore the band off, the hair unravelled and became unimaginably full. How many women in Elvestad had hair like this? None! She only lets it down at night. Only for him. In the night her eyes shone white in the darkness. She held his heavy body carefully in her slender arms. Gunder stroked her softly across her back with large, hesitant hands. Poona was happy. A tall and handsome man with blue eyes had picked her from the hot restaurant kitchen; he would take her away from the burning hot city, from the sea of people and the crowds, from the tiny room with a toilet in the corridor. Gunder had his own bathroom with a bathtub and swans on the walls. She could hardly believe it. From the first time they looked at each other, they both knew that they were going the same way. The first time he leaned forward and held the slender body and he saw the big eyes grow moist and then cloud over before finally they closed and she relaxed into his broad chest, they knew it. No words were exchanged during that first night, only the beating of their hearts. His firm and heavy, hers light and quick. They were not scared at all, not yet. Poona would leave her job and clear out the tiny room where she lived. Gunder would return home and prepare the house and the garden. At the hotel someone helped them take a photograph. They stood up straight side by side, formal from the pact they had just entered into. She in the turquoise sari, he in the snow-white shirt. He had two copies made and gave her one of them.

Because of her work she could not come with him to the plane. They parted on the pavement outside the hotel and for a moment he forgot his shyness and hugged her tightly and fiercely. At that very moment a crack appeared under his shirt. Because he had finally found her and now he had to travel so far away. He was worried about everything that could happen to her. She raised a finger and caressed his nose. Then she was gone. On slender brown legs she disappeared around the corner. Later he sat in the confined space of his aeroplane seat holding the photograph in his hand. He felt his heart swell in his chest, pumping more blood than usual. He was far too hot. Poona had touched him everywhere. Even inside his ears where he had never put anything except a cotton wool bud. He felt his fingers and toes, his lips tremble when he so much as thought of her. It was as if everything inside him pulsated and he felt that everyone could see it. Gunder was a loved man. A man who loved. He was almost on fire. He looked at the other passengers, but could see only Poona. How had he actually spent his own life so far? For fifty years he had been on his own wandering around looking after himself and on rare occasions his sister. The remainder of his life would be lived for Poona. They would share everything. If she was tired or worn out, she would rest. If she longed for home, she would go there on holiday and if he was able to go with her then that would be fine, but if she wanted time to herself then she would have it. He would listen when she spoke and never interrupt. There was much for her to go through and she would need understanding and support, especially during the first year. He was already looking forward to Christmas, to showing her the Christmas tree and the elves and the angels. And to the springtime when the first shoots would force their way up through the snow. For her it must all seem like a miracle. So it would be for him, too. From now on everything would be new and wonderful.

Marie gazed at the photograph in amazement. Then up at her brother's proud face and down again at the Indian woman, Poona Bai Jomann. With a filigree brooch on her chest. For a long time she was speechless. Her brother had quite simply found himself a wife in India. Walked into a tandoori restaurant and then won her in the space of a few hours. What kind of secret weapon did her brother possess that she had never seen? It was as though she had been waiting for him, in Bombay with its millions of people.

"Mumbai," Gunder reminded her. "Well, this is how it happened. She was living her life there just waiting for me. She'll be arriving on the 20th; I'm picking her up from Gardermoen. Look. The marriage certificate," he said proudly.

"You're a great catch for her," said Marie. "I don't suppose there are many men in India with an income like yours."

"She knows I'm not rich," Gunder said.

"Nonsense! You're loaded," said Marie mercilessly. "She's worked that out."

He looked at her hurt, but she didn't notice it because she was still staring at the photograph.

"Karsten will have a heart attack," she said. "You'll have to be prepared for gossip."

However, she was also touched. A sister-in-law! She would never have believed it.

"I'm not bothered about gossip," said Gunder. That she already knew. As happy as her brother was now, nothing could hurt him.

"You'll help her settle in, won't you?" he asked his sister. "You women need to get together and chat like women do. Spend some time together. You'll find her gentle and kind."

"I do wonder what Karsten will say," Marie repeated, obviously worried.

"Surely you're not going to be put off by that?" Gunder said.

"I don't know," she said and shrugged. "I suppose he'll be shocked, at first. I do hope people will be friendly towards her."

"They will be," said Gunder rather airily. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"I was thinking of the young people. They are cruel."

"She's not bothered about young people," said Gunder. "She's thirty-eight years old."

"Very well. I'm just a bit stunned by everything that's happened. But she's very nice-looking. What did her family say?"

"All she has left of her family is an older brother who lives in New Delhi. They aren't close."

"But will she settle here? In this ice-cold country?"

"It's only cold during winter," he said quickly. "Living with the heat isn't easy either. It is fresher here. I told her so. Our air is drier. The humidity in India is so high that you're soaked the moment you step on to the street. She wants to try and find a job. She is capable and willing to learn. She'd prefer waitressing. We'll find something."

Marie sighed. She sat stroking the beautiful ivory elephant which Gunder had brought back for her. Her brother's optimism was so great and so strong that she didn't have the heart to tear it apart. But she did have her doubts. Mostly she was thinking of the Indian woman who was coming to this tiny spot, a remote corner of the world, peopled by farmers and callous teenagers. There were disdainful people in every single house. Gunder would probably cope, but how much could this woman put up with before she would begin to miss her own people?