Olivia wiped the sweaty strands of hair away from her face and gave a disdainful sort of sniff, desperately trying to calm her racing heart.
‘It’s fine, just get me to the phone shop in one piece and I won’t care.’
‘We’re nearly there, I promise.’
Jacob started to walk again, falling in step with Olivia, who was feeling a lot better after her little outburst.
‘How come you know India so well, then?’
Jacob looked a little startled at her attempt at conversation but quickly recovered. ‘It’s not my first time taming the beast.’
‘You’ve been here before?’
‘This will be visit number three.’
‘No!’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re telling me that after being here twice before, you decided to come backagain? What for?’
‘Oh well, you know.’ He shrugged. ‘The slow pace and tranquillity mainly.’
A small smile tugged at the corner of Jacob’s lips, and Olivia couldn’t help but return it.
‘I thought London was bad, but this …’ She waved at the long line of honking vehicles that rolled past them. ‘This is another level.’ A sudden longing gripped Olivia’s chest as she let her mind wander to the damp, grey streets of her home city.
‘London is child’s play compared to this.’
‘Is that where you’re from?’
‘Just outside. Although I’m not sure I would call it home any more.’
‘Why, how often do you go back?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Go home,’ he replied indifferently, steering them round a corner.
‘Wait a second.’ Olivia recoiled. ‘How long have you been travelling for?’
‘About five years.’ A flicker of emotion passed over his face, and before Olivia could try to decipher its meaning, Jacob grabbed her arm and jerked her sideways. ‘We need to swing a left here.’
She just about managed to steady herself as they turned down a densely packed side street, questions firing like popping candy inside her brain. Before she had a moment to grasp one and ask it, Jacob stopped suddenly.
‘Here we are!’ He clapped his hands together in satisfaction. ‘I told you we weren’t far.’
Olivia looked up. They were standing outside a large white building with a gigantic red Airtel sign above the door.
‘Safely delivered to the doorstep, madam. Now, is there anything else I can help you with? Half-decent hotel recommendations?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Are you sure? I know some good ones.’ He leant back against the white wall.
‘As will Google, when I get my phone sorted.’
