The awakening of sexuality was, to John, corruption. An unnatural act that led ultimately to sterility. It was a despoiling. He was vulnerable, and a beautiful youth. His uncle had inveigled him into a relationship John was powerless to resist. That act of despoliation, of violation had taken place in that holiday home in the hills, set in a garden which proliferated with fruits and flowers. It was the first loss of his virgin innocence in the Garden of Eden. He could not realize that act was inevitable. It had to happen sooner or later, but he blamed his withering away, the drying up of his fluctuant seed, on the pagan act for which there was no retrieval. To whom could he confess? Who would give ear? Too hemmed in by the inhibitions of a stern morality. Did no one have pity on his ruined youth as he plunged, doomed and Icarean, into the pit?

That garden paled and withered and a carefree uncle went away to live his own life after he had pleasured himself with his young nephew. Whistling between his teeth, careless hands thrust into the pockets of his flannel trousers, he had gone his own way blithely, quite unaware of the shambles left behind. Ann Somers, a middle-aged married woman had often spoken with kindness to John, but then she had gone away. Lost to him. Vanished into her own oblivion, in need of compassion herself. Her mind, too, had given way, her home, too, lost, and now there was no one left for John.

‘Where is Ann Somers now?’ he would inquire wistfully, ‘where is she?’ But no one put themselves out to trace her.

The citadel is in ruins. Myths lie tumbled about the feet of humans. Adonis wounded by the boar. Narcissus dwindling away. And an ever-elusive Diana, huntress chaste and fair, the pursuer and the pursued. John has been taken to ‘Shanthi’, a haven for people who need its peace and calm. But he does not fit in. How can he, having been taken away from the mainstream of life long ago. He cannot be singled out for the preferential treatment he thinks is for him.

‘They will not speak to him in English,’ explains Serena. There is no other language he is more at ease in. ‘He asks for a spoon and fork to eat his lunch. “Eat with your fingers,” they say.’

‘Second to none’ is the epithet applied to this family. Second to none—to be conquerors, the colonial masters whose culture and civilization, manners, morals, clothes, religion and language made them the true servants. Knighthoods. Honours bestowed by the king and queen of England.