Patrick Woodhead - The Cloud Maker (2010)

‘And return his prayer wheel and beads,’ he added.

Zhu signalled to Chen and they moved back down the dark corridor. As Chen fell into step behind him, his eyes following the beam of light passing over the floor ahead, he felt a strange sense of elation. Even after prisoners had given everything, named everyone involved in a suspected plot and many more besides, they were usually left to rot down here. There were no court proceedings, no appeals or transfers. The cell doors were simply slammed shut and the matter closed for all but the unfortunate soul within.

But today was different. Zhu had given a simple order and now the monk was being transferred. Just like that.

As they followed the line of the corridor, Chen’s expression softened. He had heard of the Captain’s reputation and, like everyone else, found his presence in the office unnerving. But when it came down to it, there was obviously more to this man than any of them had suspected.

He cleared his throat, picking his words carefully.

‘Do you think the information will be helpful, sir?’

Zhu continued walking, but after a moment replied over his shoulder.

‘It’s vague, but it might be useful when cross-checked with something else.’

‘Yes, sir.’

They reached the iron security gate at the foot of the main stairwell. Zhu reached up and banged the end of the flashlight against the metal a couple of times, the noise quickly muffled by the concrete walls. From the annexe behind, another guard buzzed them through and they climbed up the wide circular staircase in silence, pausing only by the door to the outside. Chen turned towards Zhu, having mustered the courage to say something more.

‘I think you did the right thing, sir.’

Zhu looked at him, his expression unreadable.

‘I mean, transferring the monk up to the surface,’ Chen continued, his voice beginning to falter. ‘He had told us everything he knew already. It was as good to let him go.’

Zhu seemed to be nodding slowly as Chen spoke. Then he reached out with his left hand and slowly turned the handle on the door.

‘Every man’s last day should be a good one,’ he said as he stepped out into the light.

Chapter 16

Eight days after their meeting in the Windsor Castle, Bill and Luca arrived in Kathmandu airport with five large duffel bags of climbing equipment and dried food. Stepping out of the terminal, they stood blinking for a moment in the brilliant sunlight, taking in the sheer chaos that is Nepal’s greatest city.

Billows of pungent smoke rose from the grills of food vendors, while beggar children darted through the heavy traffic, scanning the backs of taxis for the pallid faces of newly arrived tourists. Every so often there was a grinding of gears as a car swerved to avoid a cow, lying placidly in the middle of the road with the confidence of a lifetime of Hindu privilege. Amidst the incredible clamour, soldiers in pale blue uniform lined the streets, waving their truncheons and blowing their whistles at largely indifferent locals.

Signalling to the nearest in a long line of decrepit taxis, Bill and Luca loaded their bags, using some spare rope to tie down the boot of the car. The car’s engine stuttered, and then they were heading for the narrow streets of the Thamel district.

Luca leaned his head out of the open window, the hot air whipping across his face. The fumes, the noise, even the piles of rubbish rotting in the alleyways, somehow felt like a release from the stifling claustrophobia of the last few weeks.

One thing he was sure of – there was no turning back now.

Then he remembered his parents’ faces as he’d told them he was going back out to Tibet so soon after the last trip. Luca had steeled himself for anger rather than abject disappointment, and flinched at the memory.

‘You know you can’t come back and work here again,’ his father had said, grey-faced, and ignoring the warning hand his wife laid on his shoulder. ‘It makes a mockery of the other employees if you’re just hopping in and out whenever you feel like it.’

‘Yeah, I know that, Dad,’ Luca had told him. ‘But this mountain, if we find it, would be a huge deal in the mountaineering world. It could set me up on the lecture circuit, let me to do this as much as I like.’

‘And Bill?’ interjected his mother.

‘He doesn’t see himself making a career out of it. His wife . . . well, I won’t go into details but he’s seeing this as a last hurrah – a way to go out with a bang before he quits climbing altogether. If it works out, it’ll be the climb of our lives.’

After a while he had got up to go. As he had kissed his mother goodbye, he’d noticed she was trying to hold back the tears and his father remained stiff-backed as Luca had hugged him goodbye.

Poor sod, he thought now as he looked out at the blurry chaos of Kathmandu. All his father had ever wanted was a son to be proud of. The problem was that the word meant such different things to each of them.

Away from the crowds, the car had picked up speed. Luca looked up above the ramshackle buildings and their bundles of defunct telephone wire to where he could just make out the foothills of the Himalayas beyond. The grassy slopes gave no indication of the extreme conditions that lay just a few thousand feet further up there, he knew that life would stall and dwindle: the cold peaks stretched up into the highest reaches of the sky, even bordering the stratosphere.

That was where they were going. Up and into a world that so few people truly understood. As Luca stared up at the peaks, Bill reached forward and tapped his shoulder.

‘We’re cutting it fine on getting our visas, aren’t we?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve emailed Sonam. It’s all fixed.’

‘You’re sure about that?’ Bill’s forehead creased in concern. He’d been anxious since they left, and for good reason. Cathy had been absolutely furious when she had found out they were off again and had refused to speak to him for two whole days. It had only been the promise that this would be his last expedition that had finally made her relent. Despite everything she had said when they parted, Bill knew only too well what this was costing his marriage.

‘Really, it’s all sorted. Look, Bill, I know it was a hard decision, but this is going to be the best trip we’ve ever done. You made the right choice.’

Bill was attempting to return his smile when the exhaust backfired suddenly and the taxi lurched to a halt outside the steps of the Chinese Embassy. Luca walked round the back of the car and came up to Bill’s open window.

‘You stay here and keep an eye on our bags.’

‘What am I, a sodding Labrador?’ he protested. ‘Why do I have to stay in the car?’

Luca grinned. ‘Just give me your passport.’

With an obvious show of reluctance, Bill dug into his rucksack and pulled out a cellophane bag with his passport inside. He handed it out through the car window.

‘Cheers,’ Luca said. ‘Now, try not to chew on the upholstery.’

The chill of the air conditioning gave the interior of the building an instant sense of calm, like walking into a church. One of the swarming officials asked Luca to wait in a side room and he sat down, enjoying the respite from the heat outside and folding one leg over the other. He picked up one of the discarded newspapers and began leafing through it, looking at the pictures.

Ten minutes later the door opened and a tall, smartly dressed Nepalese man approached, his shoes tapping against the polished floor. He had shiny black hair and large, lugubrious eyes set in a gentle face. Luca smiled as he recognised Sonam.

‘ Namaste , my friend,’ Luca said warmly. ‘How are you, Sonam?’

‘Very good, Mr Matthews, it is good to have you back so soon.’