Waiting for the Monsoon Read Online Free PDF

kidney stones? The photo of his daughter, taken years ago on a trip to Disney World, was downstairs on the mantelpiece. Charlotte seldom looked at it. Old photographs made her feel sad.
    The front doorbell sounded. She withdrew her feet from the water and without drying them walked into the hallway, down the stairs. When she opened the door, she was momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun, and it was a while before she could see the man standing in front of her.
    â€œMrs. Bridgwater?” he asked in a nasal voice.
    Charlotte nodded.
    â€œWill you sign here?”
    Absently, Charlotte signed her name, and the man left without saying another word. He gunned the engine as he drove off, scattering pebbles in all directions.
    She tore open the envelope, even though she was already aware of the contents. The only thing she didn’t know was the exact amount. She put on her glasses, glanced at the figure under the line, and with a sigh placed the letter in the dresser drawer with the other bills. She closed the drawer, but then opened it again, fishing around until she found the business card. She walked over to the telephone next to the dresser and dialled a number. Someone answered immediately. Charlotte’s first impulse was to hang up, but instead she said in a low voice, “This is Mrs. Bridgwater.”
    On the other end of the line someone began to talk very fast.
    â€œYes, the big house on the hill,” Charlotte said. “Come by when you have time.”
1936 On board the King of Scotland ~~~
    ON THE QUAY Mathilda waves to her daughter, Charlotte, who is standing at the railing far above her. The little girl does not wave back.
    â€œI’ll write to you every week!” her mother calls.
    Charlotte keeps her lips pressed tightly together.
    â€œAnd don’t open your birthday present until the day itself, promise?”
    The box, which her mother handed to her just before she boarded, is on the bed in her cabin. She threw the doll — which has real hair and a white dress — into the corner so hard that the head broke off. The ship’s horn sounds and a thick cloud of black smoke rises from the smokestack.
    Charlotte feels the ship start to move. She clutches the railing with both hands and looks at her mother, who is waving vigorously. She can’t hear her voice because of the horn blaring out its farewell.
    â€œOh, there you are!” An older lady with a shawl in her hand comes over to her. “Where were you? I couldn’t find you anywhere. I don’t want you to leave the cabin without my permission.” The lady puts her hand on the girl’s shoulder. She is still staring at her mother in the distance, still silent. “Go ahead and cry if you want to. Everyone cries the first time. I’ve seen children try to climb over the railing, but the captain stopped them by shutting them up in a cabin at the bottom of the ship. He didn’t let them go until Bombay was out of sight.” The woman starts to wave her shawl. Charlotte sees her mother take out a handkerchief and start to wave even more vigorously. “You can call me Auntie Ilse. Come on now, wave to your mother. You see? She’s waving, too. When you say goodbye, you’re supposed to wave. Come on now, wave!”
    Charlotte grasps the railing even more tightly; the horn is bawling its farewells and the ship is starting to move. The passengers around her call out, “See you soon,” “Goodbye,” and “Until next year.”
    The woman she’s supposed to call Auntie Ilse drops her arm. “Well, if you’re not going to wave, then neither am I. I don’t even know your mother. Come along, we’re going to get something to eat.” She walks in the direction of the dining room, but Charlotte remains at the railing. “If you’re going to act this way the whole time, I’ll have to ask the captain to lock you up somewhere in the bottom of