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‘She’s an old woman, Ben. She’s
frightened because her life is coming to an end and she knows she won’t be able to protect us much longer. Her heart is in the right place, but running away again just isn’t an option. What use would it be to take that train to Bombay tomorrow? To get off at some random station and change our names? To beg for a roof in any old village, knowing that the following day we might have to move again?’
‘Have you said this to Aryami?’ asked Ben.
‘She won’t listen. But this time I refuse to run away. This is my home, this is my father’s city and this is where I plan to stay. And if that man comes for me I’ll stand up to him. If he wants to kill me, let him try. But if I’m to go on living, I’m not prepared to do so like some fugitive who has to give thanks every day simply for being alive. Will you help me, Ben?’
‘Of course,’ he replied.
Sheere hugged him and dried her tears with the tip of her shawl.
‘Do you know, Ben,’ she said, ‘last night, with your friends in that old house, your Midnight Palace, while I was telling you my story I kept thinking that I’d never had the opportunity to be a child. I grew up surrounded by old people, by fear and lies. The only company I had was beggars and people I met on our travels. I remember I used to invent imaginary friends and spend hours talking to them in station waiting rooms or on the long journeys we made in covered carts. Adults would look at me and smile. To them a little girl who spoke to herself seemed adorable. But it isn’t adorable, Ben. It’s not adorable to be alone, as a child or as an adult. For years I’ve wondered what other children were like, whether they had the same nightmares I had, whether they felt as miserable as I did. Whoever said that childhood is the happiest time of your life is a liar, or a fool.’
Ben observed his sister and smiled.
‘Or both,’ he joked. ‘They usually go hand in hand.’
Sheere blushed.
‘I’m sorry. I’m a chatterbox, aren’t I?’
‘No,’ said Ben. ‘I like listening to you. Besides, I’m sure we have more in common than you think.’
‘We’re brother and sister.’ Sheere laughed nervously. ‘What more do you want? Twins! It sounds so strange!’
‘Well, you can only choose your friends,’ Ben said, ‘so having family is a bonus.’
‘I’d rather you were my friend,’ said Sheere.
Ian had come over to them and was relieved to see they both seemed in good spirits. They were even cracking jokes, which, given the circumstances, was no small achievement.
‘As long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for. Ian, this young lady wants to be my friend.’
‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ said Ian. ‘I’ve been his friend for years and look at me. Have you come to a decision?’
Ben nodded.
‘Is it what I think?’
Ben nodded again and this time Sheere joined in.
‘What is it you’ve decided?’ came Aryami Bose’s embittered voice behind them.
The three youngsters turned to see her standing motionless, half-hidden in the shadows beyond the doorway. The silence was tense.
‘We’re not taking that train tomorrow, Grandmother,’ Sheere replied eventually. ‘Not me, not Ben.’
The old woman looked at each one in turn, her eyes ablaze.
‘So the words of a few senseless children have made you forget, in just a few minutes, what I’ve been teaching you for years?’
‘No, Grandmother. It’s my own decision. And nothing in the world is going to make me change my mind.’
‘You’ll do as I say,’ retorted Aryami, although the pain of defeat could be heard in every word.
‘Please—’ Ian began politely.
‘Be quiet, child,’ snapped Aryami, her voice cold.
