5
Seconds later, Charlie poked his head through the hatch. ‘Doesn’t look much like the centre of the country’s number-one export business to me, but there you go.’
I glanced through the windscreen. A few houses were dotted each side of the valley, increasing in number as the road climbed towards a cluster of roofs about 500 away.
The whole area was lush, green, and very wet. The muddy tracks and rough wooden fences and shacks had an almost medieval flavour. Apart from a handful of chickens scuttling about and a few cows mooching around in the fields to our left, the place seemed to be deserted. The torrential rain was keeping the villagers indoors, and I couldn’t blame them.
The track ahead of us had been shored up with broken bricks and lumps of wood. Ominously, I didn’t see any sign of a 4x4. I wondered how long it would take us to get to Turkey by horse and cart.
Charlie turned to Paata. ‘What now?’
‘Back to where Nana did the Kazbegi interview. We need to keep the Mercedes out of sight. Nana isn’t everybody’s favourite girl around here. She should be, but she isn’t. She likes to poke her nose into places people don’t want her to.’ His jaw tightened. ‘The farmer let us sleep here, with the truck. He’s a good man. He and his wife are the ones we’ve come back to see.’
We passed a dilapidated farmhouse, and turned right along a track. We pulled up in front of a huge barn, built of unmilled wood with gaps between the planks, and a roof of heavily patched and rusty corrugated-iron sheets. Paata jumped out to open the doors.
Bastard took it as his cue to started bumping his gums again. ‘That ID says you gotta help me. I want a truck.’
‘I’ll ask Eduard,’ Nana said sweetly. ‘He’s waiting inside.’
Paata slid back in and we drove a dozen or so metres into the centre of the barn. It was about three times the height of the wagon, and could easily have taken another six vans each side of us.
The whole place stank of decay and old manure, but at least it was dry. There were no tools or machinery in sight, not even a bale of hay. All I could see was a roughly hewn wooden bench in the far corner, by the remains of a small fire. It looked like it was where this lot had got their heads down.
Nana said something in Paperclip to Koba. He nodded, and took up station a few paces to one side of us. He unzipped his jacket as Bastard fell out of the wagon.
‘Where’s this Eduard guy? I’ve got some business to take care of.’
She was trying to keep it light, but I could see she was worried. ‘He’ll be here. He’s not the sort to break a promise.’ She glanced uneasily at Paata, then at me and Charlie.
F*ck this; there was too much eye contact going on here. It didn’t feel right.
‘We’ve got to get going too,’ I said cheerfully. ‘Thanks for the lift.’
‘Eduard will know if there’s transport. I’ll call him.’
I followed her line of sight to Paata and Koba, and sensed the tension between them. They were on starting blocks, waiting for something.
I looked back at Nana as she punched the buttons on her cell.
For just a second, I had a vision of a peasant farmer trundling along a bumpy track, fighting the wheel of his battered Lada as he scrabbled in his pocket to retrieve his Nokia.
A peasant Georgian farmer, with a cell phone. Who the f*ck did he have to call?
My eyes shot back to Nana. Hers were glued to Koba, and the look between them told me everything.
She knew. She’d known all along. All that heartfelt, rabble-rousing shit had just been to keep us busy.
I walked over to Charlie. My eyes were fixed on Koba’s feet, between us and the door. I wasn’t going to join the eye-contact fest and make things worse. ‘C’mon, mate,’ I murmured. ‘We’re off.’