‘I’m sorry you’re upset,’ he began, ‘but I’m trying to make you see the truth of the situation.’
She took a few deep breaths and then turned to him. ‘Just for once, Grayson, I want to make you see my truth. It’s not as simple as you suggest. But let’s call my father Joe Bloggs. If I found Mr Bloggs, I might also discover where my mother met him, what kind of relationship they had, how they parted, why he never tried to claim me after her death.’
She stood looking straight ahead, absorbing, it seemed, the cool peace of the garden, but her body was unnaturally stiff and her hands locked tightly together. When she spoke again, there was real anguish in her voice. ‘Can’t you see that I want to know why nobody ever wanted me?’
He was swiftly beside her and took hold of the rigid knuckles, smoothing her hands soft. ‘I do see. Really I do. But walking into danger alongside me isn’t going to help you get answers.’
She shrugged away from him. ‘What’s the difference? I’ll be walking into danger if I stay here.’
‘I don’t think so, not any more. I’m pretty sure the Suris won’t bother you again—as long as you keep clear of them.’
‘It’s not just the Suris,’ she said in a low voice.
He was instantly suspicious, his antennae bristling sharply. What else had she been up to? She was beginning to be a liability, and not for the first time on this trip he wished he’d left her safely in Brighton. He waited with some trepidation.
‘I found Parvati’s lover.’
‘What!’
‘Mr Bahndari. But don’t worry, he is a charming man. He didn’t at all mind talking to me. He was the one who told me Karan Rana’s real name.’
‘So that’s where you got your information. No wonder you didn’t explain.’
‘Yes. But it was afterwards …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘In the bazaar. I tried to find out where the Verghese family came from.’
‘Apparently you were successful.’
‘Only after I paid a man to tell me. He must have needed the money badly because he was thoroughly scared. As soon as he’d got his rupees, he melted away. There was a gang after him, you see. They didn’t get him but—’
‘But they got you? Threatened you?’
‘Yes.’
What felt very like fury coursed through him. It was almost as if she had some kind of death wish, pig-headedly walking into the most threatening of situations. It was worse even than that. Out of nowhere she’d created those situations herself, and was still creating them, even when she recognised how much she was putting herself in danger. He tried to keep his voice measured, though the more he thought of it, the more angry he grew.
‘If anything bad does happen to you while I’m away, it will be entirely your fault. You knew I had to leave and yet you laid yourself open to reprisals from whoever is behind this gang. It’s unfair of you, Daisy. I don’t need this additional worry.’
For a moment she seemed abashed, but not for long. ‘I don’t expect you to worry. I don’t want you to worry. You’re not my keeper. You’re not even my lover any more.’
‘Is this what these stupid alarms are all about?’
She gaped at him and he wished he hadn’t said that. Since coming to India they had more or less managed to put to one side the touchy subject of their relationship, but now he had opened the proverbial can of worms.
‘No,’ she said, her voice steely. ‘It’s not about you, it’s not about us. It’s about me. It’s about me wanting to know more than anything in the world where I fit. And neither you nor anybody else is going to stop me.’
Over the past few minutes their voices had become loud without their realising it, until Mike stumbled through the door and onto the veranda. ‘What on earth’s going on here? You woke me up.’ He gave what Grayson thought was a stagey yawn.
‘Sorry. A slight disagreement, that’s all.’
Mike looked from one to the other and Grayson knew he would have to admit at least some of the problem. ‘Daisy thinks she may have found what she’s been looking for. It’s in Sikaner and she wants to come with me.’
Mike wrapped his pyjama jacket close to his body as though raising a shield. ‘Why are you talking about Sikaner? It’s a complete nonentity of a state. Not to say miles away, and with a hugely difficult journey.’
‘I haven’t had the chance to tell you, but it’s where I believe Javinder was travelling, and where I’ve decided to head for.’
‘Did you pull Sikaner out of a hat?’ His colleague seemed fixated on the name.
‘It might seem like that but Doc Lane put me on to it.’
‘And you believed him. Come on, Grayson, he’s an old man. Doddering, I hear.’
‘Not that doddering and I think he’s right. I’m setting off for there early tomorrow, but without Daisy.’
‘I should think so—if you must go.’
Daisy had so far remained silent, but at this she decided to make her presence felt. Grayson had to step back as she carved a path between the two friends. ‘You can do as you wish, but then so can I. If you won’t let me travel with you, I’ll follow. I’m quite able to hire a driver. Let’s hope you’re the professional you say you are, then I shouldn’t get lost.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Mike turned to him. ‘You can’t go, not like this. You’ll be putting yourself in more danger with a woman trailing after you. She needs to stay in Jasirapur. She’ll be safe enough here.’
Grayson was unsure how much to disclose. ‘You won’t know, but there have been threats made to Daisy. I won’t go into them except to say that they’re serious.’
‘Threats she’s brought on herself, I don’t doubt. I’m beginning to understand how she operates.’
‘However they’ve occurred, they’re still threats.’
Mike walked over to him and grasped his arm. ‘I’m here,’ he said with emphasis. ‘Daisy will be safe with me. I promise I’ll look after her.’
Grayson felt conflicted. The last thing he wanted was to take Daisy with him. And it would have to be with him. He couldn’t have her trailing behind in whatever vehicle she managed to commandeer. Not only would it make the two of them look foolish, it would increase their mutual danger. And ruin any plans he’d made to travel quietly and arrive without warning.
But he needed no distraction on this journey and travelling with Daisy would provide it in spades. They would be thrown together in the most intimate way, close companions not just for minutes but for hours on end. Apart from their dinner together, he’d kept their encounters brief and with Mike never far from sight. But that evening at the Paradise was warning enough. He’d found himself unable to keep his eyes from her, had crumbled at the feel of her hand and the sweet smell of her hair. At the moment, he was angry but if past experience were a guide, his anger wouldn’t last. He’d never been able to withstand her charm for long.
He was hugely reluctant to have her alongside, but just as reluctant to leave her behind. He wasn’t at all sure that she would be safe in Jasirapur, even under Mike’s protection. His friend was no longer as strong or as capable as he’d once been and had no idea what Daisy had been up to. Grayson suddenly became conscious of the ominous silence that had fallen while he’d been preoccupied. Mike and Daisy, he saw, were at opposite ends of the room and glaring stonily at one another. He couldn’t imagine how they’d fare if they were left together.
‘She’ll have to come with me,’ he said in a burst of decisiveness. He saw Daisy’s face clear and an almost beatific smile appear on her face. This trip meant everything to her.
But not to Mike. ‘So what it comes down to is that you don’t trust me. I’m too old, too infirm, is that it? I’m in India for the donkey work, to plough endlessly through papers and be at the end of a phone if you chance to call. But I’m not good enough for anything else.’
‘Mike, please—’ He put out a detaining hand but his friend had turned on his heel and marched back into the bedroom. The door shut with a
loud slap.
Daisy’s face was lit with an anticipation he couldn’t share. He felt his lips compress into a thin, hard line. ‘This had better work,’ he said.
CHAPTER 12
It was barely dawn when they set off. The air was blissfully cool with a mist that hung low over the earth’s tapestry of browns and ochres. Broad expanses of barley, wheat and gram stretched on either side of the road, the landscape as flat as a man’s hand and running to a horizon so distant it could be the edge of the world. Until the last straggle of houses was left behind, the jeep managed little more than a crawl. The vehicle itself was old and crotchety, but even travelling slowly, it was not the most comfortable of rides, the road bumping and bucking every which way. Daisy was not about to complain. She’d fought hard to come on this journey and, whatever the outcome, she was convinced it would be worth the discomfort. If its only result was the death of her dream, she would at least know there was nothing more to find. She would relinquish her search. Grayson refused to believe it, but she’d promised and she would keep the promise.
He sat still and stiff beside her, his eyes fixed resolutely ahead. He had given her barely a glance since they left Jasirapur. Instead, his whole concentration was on navigating his way round and through wandering livestock and lumbering wagons, and on guiding the vehicle over the worst of the road’s craters. She imagined the danger of an early puncture was uppermost in his mind. They passed through small village after small village, thatched clay huts speckling the roadside and beyond. The women were already up tending fires, fetching water for washing, churning buttermilk for breakfast. The smell of burning dung drifted towards them as they bumped their way through the small settlements. You could be nowhere else but India, she thought.
They had been travelling nearly an hour before he broke his silence. ‘The road is getting rougher with each mile and at this rate, we won’t get to Sikaner by nightfall.’ He spoke without expression. ‘We’ll have to camp overnight.’
She didn’t find the prospect enticing. ‘How far away are we?’
‘Far enough—around three hundred and fifty miles. But I don’t want to be driving after dark and if the road is as bad as this all the way, we’re looking at a day and a half for the journey. Unless something delays us further.’
He continued to speak in a voice devoid of colour, and she knew herself unforgiven. But at least he was talking. Three hundred and fifty miles was a long way to sit in angry silence.
‘Did you manage to find out much about Sikaner before we left?’ she ventured.
He seemed to weigh up whether he wanted to answer or preferred to stay mute, but then he said, ‘There wasn’t much to find. It’s a small princely state and quite typical—bigger than a cow pasture but not much more than twenty square miles.’
Her brows drew together in surprise. ‘That is small. I’ve always thought of Indian princes as being immensely wealthy.’
‘You mustn’t confuse size with wealth. States vary hugely in both. There are kingdoms ruled by some of the richest men in the world with populations as large as European countries. They’re the ones you’ll have heard of. But there are princes who may own little land but still enjoy great wealth and wield considerable influence.’
He seemed to be talking more easily now and she worked to keep the conversation going. ‘Is that the case now though? The influence, I mean.’
‘Princely power has waned enormously, it’s true. Ever since the Viceroy managed to corral most of the states into joining the Indian union. And that can only be a good thing. Some of the rulers were progressive but most often they were anything but. Generally, the system was rotten.’
‘They must be finding it difficult, though, to fit into the new India.’
‘There’s a role for them if they want it. The country needs efficient administrators, people who are used to handling the affairs of state. But not all of them are eager to contribute and there are still some hotheads around. That’s what concerned Mountbatten most, I think—that they’d try to retain their privileges by launching the odd adventure. That would have left their towns looking like charnel houses.’
‘And Sikaner?’
‘Apparently it has a ruler who is holding out. Democracy isn’t to his liking, which is hardly surprising. But it’s what he’s doing about it that’s the worrying thing.’
‘You think he’s launching one of those adventures?’
‘I think he may be planning to and in the meantime fomenting trouble. In fact, I’m almost sure of it. In the wake of Partition, it’s too easy for him. Tension between Hindus and Moslems is high. It’s existed for centuries, of course, but the recent appalling slaughter has made things so much worse.’
‘You’ve never really talked about that.’
‘It’s too sickening to speak of. There’s no official tally of the numbers killed or raped or maimed. Some have said it was over a million and that wouldn’t surprise me. All I know is that it has to be one of the vilest moments in Indian history.’
She had known about the atrocities, of course. The papers and radio bulletins had been full of the news, but from the safety of London it had seemed short-lived—a quick flurry of violence and then peace. She could see now how naïve that view was.
‘Could the police do nothing?’ But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. She remembered the riot in Jasirapur and how the military had had to be called in. This must have been a thousand times worse.
‘They were overwhelmed. Completely. And so much of the violence was clandestine, they had no chance of winning the battle. It was wanton, senseless murder. Maybe a man wearing a Sikh turban would be attacked or a Moslem with a beard. Death in a flash, and before you could say “knife”, a body would be dying in the street and the perpetrator melting away into a maze of alleys, with every door shut and no one in sight.’
She felt her stomach churn slightly. She knew that feeling. Of being a victim, of being alone, the door shut in her face. She had been lucky though. These poor souls had not.
‘And you think that’s happening in Sikaner?’
‘The picture doesn’t look good. There’s a pattern to the violence. It’s not random and senseless this time. Instead, individuals from certain groups have been picked out and hunted down. The killing and rape is systematic, the work of a group who possesses a command structure. The planning appears methodical and, since the number of deaths is growing, it’s evidently an ambitious plan. Maybe there’s worse to come. But the killers have to be paid for their services and it’s the person who is paying that I need to find.’
‘And Javinder …’
‘Javinder too. Once I find who is behind the unrest, I’m sure I’ll find him. He was almost certainly on to something and, in some way, he’s been stopped.’
She didn’t want to think in what way that might be and relapsed into silence. The sun that had been a mere glow filtering through mist was now shining in earnest and when Grayson suggested they stop in the village they were passing, she happily agreed. They could buy water there and fresh fruit for lunch.
‘Stay in the car,’ he ordered when he’d parked the jeep. His voice had regained its chill. ‘I won’t be long and I don’t want any trouble.’
She agreed meekly enough. She’d no wish to jeopardise the rest of the trip by quarrelling with him over something so trivial. It was clear she was most definitely on probation. But she wished she could have gone with him. It was almost lunchtime and they could have found somewhere to eat the picnic that Ahmed had made for them. Grayson had been adamant, though, that she stay in the car, remain inconspicuous, and she was left wondering why that was important.
For a time she remained where she was, while the air in the stationary vehicle grew slowly more stifling. He seemed to be taking an uncommonly long time to buy a bag of mangoes. She fidgeted on the hot cracked leather trying to find a cooler part of the seat, then stuck her head out of the window in the hope of a passing breeze. But an undiluted wav
e of heat was her only reward. She peered through the windscreen at the street ahead, then into the driving mirror at the road behind. Not a sign of Grayson. After ten minutes, she’d had enough, probation or no probation. She slid from her seat.
She wandered slowly along the road in the direction he’d taken. The village was larger than most and there were plenty of stalls to interest her. Even better, they were sheltered from the sun, now directly overhead, by wide, bleached canopies. She moved from one patch of shade to another, still uncomfortably hot, but her skin no longer raw. Most of the stalls she passed were filled to brimming with an array of fruit and vegetables, so why had Grayson not stopped at one of these? Several stalls displayed what seemed like a hundred different spices and one shop, in particular, she found fascinating. It was filled with bright dyes, Day-Glo colours—yellow, red, cerise, purple, turquoise—that fought each other in a clash for supremacy. The stunning rainbow of colour took all her attention and she walked further and further into the shop. She made sure, though, that every so often she glanced towards the entrance, on the lookout for Grayson’s tall figure returning to the jeep. But the next time she raised her eyes, her breath caught painfully in her throat.
She shrunk back, trying to melt into the very fabric of the shop. The form she’d seen had not been Grayson’s, but that of another man. A man she was beginning to know well. Dalip Suri. Her mind raced. What could he be doing in this anonymous village? The place was nowhere near Megaur, in fact in quite the opposite direction. And neither was it on the road to any larger town that he might be headed for. So why here of all places—unless he was after her? Less than two days ago, he’d tried to run her down and not succeeded, so had he been following her ever since in the hope of making another attempt? For a moment, her mind went blank and she had no idea how to react. Then a chaotic whirr began. Should she rush from the shop and make for the safety of the jeep? If she did, he might turn his head at any moment and see her. Or should she keep hidden and hope to grab Grayson on his return? She wasn’t sure how successful that would be.
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