Aunty Madeleine tried to help me, to pay for my education in a school where there would be discipline, community living in a religious atmosphere, but it would be far away from home, far away from the city with its people, its excitement, where I had the freedom to run out and play whenever I liked. How could I tell Aunty that I didn’t want to be separated from my grandmother, my Nanna. I could only bow my head and be silent. When she said things like, ‘Now don’t run away from school. It’s your final chance,’ I felt panicky. When would I ever see Nanna again if I went away? She couldn’t afford to visit me. I knew what it would be like. I had to plan my escape already.

We travelled up to Kandy from Colombo. Aunty Madeleine brought us to a house with a big garden full of plants and fruit trees—guava, jambu, mangoes, pomegranate. The bird bath was beside the clove tree. It was full of birds—mynahs, sparrows, konde kurullas. The house was full of books, comfortable chairs, sofas with plump cushions. There were showers and hot food. The aunty there, Aunty Lorraine, was very kind. She looked at me in a special way, as if she had taken a liking to me. There was sympathy in her eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’ she asked Aunty Madeleine. ‘You think she’ll be happy away from her Nanna? It’s a very remote place, winding roads that take you into the very heart of the countryside. It was once a vast estate with a large estate bungalow. It now belongs to your religious group, the Seventh Day Adventists. I know you have a lot of faith in the way of life that is followed there but Zuleika—I don’t really know how she’ll fit into the special kinds of discipline there …. Zuleika, why don’t you go out to the garden and pick whatever fruit you like? The guavas are ripe, and the jambus,’ Aunty Lorraine said, turning towards me.

‘So many birds, Aunty. Where do they come from?’

‘They’re displaced. Most of the trees have been cut down for the new houses that are coming up. Sometimes we find reptiles in the garden and one night an owl flew in. Perhaps it had escaped from the pet shop next door. It was hurt. Its wing had been injured.’

‘Didn’t you want to take it and look after it?’ I asked.

‘No, owls don’t belong in houses. They’re night birds. They must be free to hunt small animals and rodents, find a perch on the branch of a tree. No, they don’t belong in houses.’