As Giles and Seb left Varun Sharma’s office and walked out on to the Strand, Giles said, “I’m so sorry, Seb. I know exactly what you’re going through, but I’m not sure what you can do next.”

“Go home and try to get on with my life. But thank you, Uncle Giles, you couldn’t have done more.”

Giles watched as his nephew strode off in the direction of the City, and wondered what he really planned to do next, because his home was in the opposite direction. Once Seb was out of sight, Giles headed back up the steps and into the High Commissioner’s office.

*   *   *

“Rachel, I need five hundred pounds in rupees, an open-ended return ticket to Bombay and an Indian visa. If you call Mr. Sharma’s secretary at the High Commission, I’m sure she’ll speed the whole process up. Oh, and I’ll need fifteen minutes with the chairman before I leave.”

“But you have several important appointments next week, including—”

“Clear my diary for the next few days. I’ll phone in every morning, so you can keep me fully briefed.”

“This must be one hell of a deal you’re trying to close.”

“The biggest of my life.”

*   *   *

The High Commissioner listened carefully to what his secretary had to say.

“Your nephew has just called and applied for a visa,” he said after putting the phone down. “Do I speed it up, or slow it down?”

“Speed it up,” said Giles, “although I admit I’m quite anxious about the boy. Like me, he’s a hopeless romantic, and at the moment he’s thinking with his heart and not his head.”

“Don’t worry, Giles,” said Varun. “I’ll see that someone keeps an eye on him while he’s in India and tries to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble, especially as Sukhi Ghuman is involved. No one needs that man as an enemy.”

“But when I met him at Lord’s, he seemed quite charming.”

“That’s half the reason he’s so successful.”

*   *   *

It wasn’t until later that evening, when Seb had fastened his seat-belt and the plane had taken off, that he realized he didn’t have a plan. All he knew for certain was that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life wondering if this journey just might have made a difference. The only piece of useful information he picked up from the chief steward during the flight was the name of the best hotel in Bombay.

Seb was dozing when the captain announced that they were about to begin their descent into Bombay. He looked out of the cabin window to see a vast, sprawling mass of tiny houses, shacks and tenement blocks, filling every inch of space. He could only wonder if Bombay had any planning laws.