"I show you the city?" she said cautiously. She was not smiling now, and there was no sign of her protruding teeth.
"Yes. Please! I wait here," he said, slapping the tabletop. "You work. I wait here."
She nodded, but stayed a while longer. The room was very quiet. Only a low hum from the other tables.
"Mira nam Poona he," she said.
"What?" Gunder said.
"Poona. My name is Poona Bai."
She held out a brown hand.
"Gunder," he said. "Gunder Jomann."
"Welcome to Bollywood," she laughed.
He did not understand what she meant, but he heard his own heart beat softly and hopefully. Then he bowed to her and at last she collected herself and disappeared out to the kitchen.
That evening he called Marie. He sounded excited.
"Did you know that they call this city Bollywood?" he laughed down the other end; she could almost hear how hot he was. "They are the world's biggest film producers. I've learned a little Indian, by the way. Tan je vad, it means thank you. There are more than a billion people living in India, Marie, imagine."
"Yes," she said. "Soon there'll be so many of us on this planet that we'll eat one another."
Gunder chuckled at the other end of the line.
"Have you met someone?" she asked, unbearably curious.
Yes, of course he had met people, how could she suppose otherwise, one billion, you couldn't walk down the streets without all the time bumping into people. "There's air conditioning in the hotel," he went on. "When I go out of the door, the heat hits me. That's the worst time."
"Are you taking care of your tummy?" she said.
Oh yes, he was taking care of his tummy, he took his tablets and felt fine, but the heat meant that everything had to happen in slow motion. Marie visualised a slow Gunder, walking down the streets of Mumbai in slow motion.
"I expect you're looking forward to coming back?" she said, because that was what she wanted to hear. She did not like it that her slow brother had all of a sudden become a well-travelled man, and she did not like his superior tone.
"It'll be great to come home," he reassured her. "And I've bought you a present. Something really Indian."
"What is it?" she wanted to know.
"No, no. It's a secret."
"I cut the grass today. There's a lot of moss. Did you know that?"
Gunder laughed. "We'll get rid of that," he said. "We can't have moss in the lawn."
We? He seemed strangely elated. Marie hardly recognised her brother. She clutched the phone and felt that she wanted him to come back. She could not take care of him when he was so far away.
"It's hot here too," she said importantly. "It was 29°C in Nesbyen yesterday."
"Well, well, 29°C? Here we have 42°C, Marie. Yesterday it was hotter still. And when I ask the Indians if they're used to it – after all, they've lived with it for years – they say no, it is just as bad for us. Strange, don't you think?"
"Yes. If they came over here to our minus 20°C they would probably turn into ice," she said impatiently.
"I don't think so," Gunder told her. "The Indians work hard, and would keep warm regardless. It's that simple. But luckily I am on holiday. I just stroll around the streets with my arms sticking out."
"Sticking out?"
"Can't bear to have them touching my body," he said. "Have to spread my fingers, too. But there is air conditioning at the hotel," he repeated.
"You mentioned that," she said.
Then they were both silent. Marie sighed the way a sister sighs over an impossible brother.
"I have to go now," Gunder said. "I'm meeting someone."
"Oh?"
"We are going out for dinner. I'll call in a day or two."
She heard the click as he hung up. Saw her brother in her mind, gliding around with his fingers spread and his arms sticking out. In the shimmering heat. She could not understand why he was so happy.
Chapter 3
Gunder and Poona were married on August 4th, at noon precisely. In the City Court House, as Poona called it. Gunder had obtained the necessary paperwork and the Norwegian Foreign Office had sent a fax to confirm his status in Norway as a bachelor. It was a simple, but very solemn ceremony.
Gunder stood up straight like a soldier, listening and hoping that he answered in the right places. Poona shone. Her plait was coiled at the nape of her neck, like a huge pretzel. She did not even try to hide her teeth, but smiled joyfully at everything that happened. Gunder's English was getting better. They conversed in short sentences, helped by gestures and smiles, and understood one another very well. Often when Gunder was halfway through a sentence she would complete it exactly as he had imagined it himself. It was so easy. He explained to her about Norwegian citizenship. It could take a few years. Becoming Norwegian was certainly not straightforward, he thought. After the ceremony they walked down the streets as husband and wife. She wore gold sandals and a turquoise sari with the pretty filigree brooch at her throat. He wore a new white shirt, dark trousers and newly polished shoes. His arm was around her waist. She looked up at Gunder's face, the broad face with the strong neck. He was a sturdy and solid man and yet so humble. Sometimes he would blush and yet he possessed a peculiar confidence and was so unaffected by all the people around him. He had eyes only for her. She saw his suppressed joy and the broad smile around his mouth. She thought that this man had his own world, which he controlled. And how good that was.
It was not that she thought he was rich. He had told her so: "I'm not rich at all. But I do have a house and a job. A nice garden. A good car. And a kind sister. She'll make you feel welcome. We live near a small village. It's quiet there, not much traffic. You can walk along the road all on your own and not meet a living soul."
This seemed strange to Poona. Such a huge silence, devoid of people. She knew only crowds in the city. She had only seen silence in photographs.
"I'd prefer to work," she said firmly.
"Of course you can. But then you may have to go into town. There is nothing in Elvestad. If you get a job in town, then I can give you a lift."
"I'm a hard worker," she went on. "I don't tire easily. I'm not big, but I'm tough. You won't need to provide for me."
"No, no," said Gunder then. "It's fine if you get a job. Then you'll learn Norwegian more quickly. It's going to be so good, Poona, I promise you. Norwegians are friendly. A little shy, perhaps, and very proud, but friendly."
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?"