2.4
The Jeep rolled on.
“You’re asking about the first sadhu – the first one I ever saw?”
“Yes.”
“It was actually the bare feet that stopped me – I’d seen a lot of poor people on my way to India – but none with bare feet. Then, of course I noticed all the other signs – the orange lunghi… the fact that he was naked from the waist up… the stick… the wild hair.”
“Mmm.”
“And when he caught me staring at him I saw something else.”
“That look?”
“Exactly – that look in his eyes – like… a raging fire.”
“Mmm.”
“I knew instinctively that this was not just another poor man – this was something else altogether.”
“It’s true – they are something else altogether.”
“And I knew immediately that one day I would end up looking like that.”
“Really – just like that?”
“Yes – just like that.”
“But… why?”
“I wanted the intensity – I wanted that look in my eyes.”
The P.M. chuckled quietly as he looked beyond Pierre’s vanity –
“You must have been desperate. I mean…”
“Of course – I had been very depressed.”
“You must have been.”
“What I saw was a straw – and like a drowning man I clutched at it.”
2.5
Before long it didn’t matter what Rita said, Max was embroiled in the fine web of physical fascination. All he really wanted to know was…
Mate – you are hopeless – really, you are.
Seriously – if you don’t take a good grip of yourself…
You’ll never get anywhere.
As the night wore on Rita told Max stories of her life as a young lawyer carrying the bag for the insurance companies – negotiating with powerful people – making huge deals on the run – trying to be fair.
Eventually she said –
“I would have thought you’d be going to London.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you know, pubs, clubs, sport – all of that.”
In truth, Max didn’t actually like clubs. He liked dancing and he loved women so he did sometimes visit the odd club. But to him they were just noisy dives where increasingly rich men plundered increasingly desperate women. No – Max liked parties. And he couldn’t imagine he’d be invited to too many parties in London. Dave Brown was no doubt right again – a broken down Australian Rules footballer like him would be nobody in London – just another misplaced head in the queue.
“Yeah well, you’re right – I was doing a bit of that for a while.”
Max was not ashamed of his past.
“So?”
“So what?”
“So that’s your nature! That’s what you like to do! I would have thought you would have been really keen to get over to London – and do it properly.”
“Properly?”
Max was lost.
“I’m talking about a good time.”
She leant across – he felt her hot breath in his ear.
“I mean, a really good time,” she whispered.
And she kissed him on the neck, with just a touch of moisture.
