Henna looked calmly at the hand that Shona had rejected, polishing a brilliant sapphire and diamond ring with the edge of her silk sari. ‘Well, from the beginning, Shona. I am not as slow as you and your father; I did some snooping and read his correspondence when he came over. At the time I was pleased that he had something to distract him.’ Looking up at Shona, she asked, ‘Why are you so upset? Didn’t you know? If I knew all the way here in Dhaka, how could you not have known right there in London? Didn’t you wonder why your father spent so little time in that London flat, and why he got a new place in the country? Didn’t you ever visit and work it out for yourself?’

Shona looked down, not wanting to meet her mother’s pitying look. Perhaps her mother was right. Perhaps she was just small and simple, hiding her ignorance behind her degrees and her book-learning. ‘The boys were born after Papa bought his new house; it was too difficult to visit with the twins, so he used to come to us. I think we went a few times, but he always took us out for lunch or dinner, we never stayed …’ She added, quietly, as though to justify herself, ‘I did think he might have met someone in England. I suspected a long time ago when I went to his first flat, the company one he had in Paddington, but I never thought he was married, with another daughter, another life. I only found out when he had his heart attack at Easter. I saw Verity at the hospital.’ She said bitterly to her mother, ‘How could you have known, all these years, and not told me? You knew that Papa had a wife, and that I had a sister, all these years, and you kept it hidden. You made Papa keep this stupid lie going on and on, while you must have been bleeding him and Uncle Aziz dry.’

Henna was already getting impatient with Shona. She went back to the dresser, pulled out a lipstick in a golden case and started painting her lips. ‘Tch!’ she tutted in disgust. ‘Your father marries some wilting English flower, raises another daughter and you still manage to make me the criminal? Always taking your precious father’s side.’

Shona felt like crying, but didn’t dare to in front of Henna. It would just confirm her mother’s poor opinion of her. ‘Mamma, why does it have to be like this? We all know the truth now, so who would you be protecting? We shouldn’t have to keep up this pretence.’