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The slight breeze was ineffectual against the heavy, humid summer air, but Rajendra was no less grateful for it as it stirred his hair and momentarily cooled the sweat pooling in the small of his back as he stood in the service drive near the pool. The combination of the heat and the lunchtime crowd rendered the restaurant stifling. He’d never been more tempted to jump into the pool fully clothed.
For a couple of months, he avoided the pool deck, its association with one of the most intense, confounding yet beautiful experiences of his life too painful. Now it was just a swimming pool, and while the ache of loss might not have left, it was bearable.
“Rajendra! Mr Leung sent me to fetch you.” Rajendra turned, fighting the bitter tang of resentment that surged into his throat at Edmund Wu’s interruption, less than five minutes into his first break after hours on his feet having consumed nothing but a cup of tea when he rose at six. Really, was even five minutes too much to ask? He most likely wouldn’t eat until after the luncheon sitting ended. Eddie added, “Forgive my interruption.”
Rajendra smiled to mask his annoyance. Eddie was a nice boy and a hard worker and it wasn’t his fault that Mr Leung invariably summoned one or other of the restaurant staff in the middle of one of their few rest breaks. “What is it?”
“A Mr Walker is asking for you. Says it’s important.”
“Who’s Mr Walker?” He’d probably served several men of that name over the years, but the only Mr Walker Rajendra could think of among current or recent guests was an Australian ex-serviceman who always wanted to talk about cricket. He left for Shanghai two days ago, so it couldn’t be him.
Eddie shrugged. “No idea. He’s waiting in the foyer.”
Rajendra sighed and followed Eddie inside. It wouldn’t do to keep a guest waiting. He hoped the problem could be dealt with quickly. Today had been frantic enough as it was.
The concierge gestured towards a slim young man in a pale slate-grey suit, staring in the direction of a landscape painting on the wall and twisting the cufflink in his left shirtsleeve. Straight black hair reached the top of his collar and as Rajendra approached, the man lifted his right hand and pushed a stubborn lock back from his forehead.
Rajendra’s heart stopped, then stuttered and rattled in his chest. Stephen, my Stephen, he stopped himself from crying aloud. He swallowed and said, “I understand you asked for me, sir. How may I assist you?”
The man turned to look at him, his dark blue eyes brightening. Rajendra’s face grew warm. “I promised you I’d find my way here.”
And he held out his arms and laughed, face glowing with delight.