He carefully observed the route that Vijay took, noting the occasional blue and white airport signs dotted along the way. Forty-two minutes later Vijay screeched to a halt outside the domestic terminal. Seb jumped off, saying, “Hang around, I’ll only be a few minutes.” He walked inside and checked the departures board. The flight he required was leaving from Gate 14B, and the word “Boarding” was flashing next to the words “New Delhi.” He followed the signs, but when he arrived at the gate, he didn’t join the queue of passengers waiting to board the plane. He checked his watch. It had taken forty-nine minutes from the moment he’d left the hotel to reach the gate. He retraced his steps to find Vijay waiting patiently for him.

“I’ll take us back,” said Seb, grabbing the handlebars.

“But you don’t have a license, sir.”

“I don’t think anyone will notice.” Seb flicked on the ignition, revved up and waited for Vijay to climb on behind him before he joined the traffic heading into Bombay.

They were back outside the hotel forty-one minutes later. Seb checked his watch. The rose should be delivered any time now.

“I’ll be back, Vijay, but I can’t be sure when,” he said before walking quickly up the steps and into the hotel. He took the lift to the eighth floor, went straight to his room, poured himself a cold Cobra and sat down next to the phone. So many jumbled thoughts flooded through his mind. Had the rose been delivered? If it had, would Priya even see it? If she did see it, would she realize who’d sent it? At least he felt confident about that. She would recognize his handwriting, and with one call to the florist she would discover which room he was in. It was clear that her family weren’t letting her out of the house unaccompanied, possibly not even out of their sight. Checking his watch every few minutes he paced up and down the room, occasionally stopping to take a sip of his beer. He glanced at the front page of the Times of India, but didn’t get beyond the headlines. He thought about ringing his uncle Giles, and bringing him up to date, but decided he couldn’t risk the line being busy when she called.

When the phone made a loud metallic sound, Seb grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Is that you, Seb?” Priya whispered.

“Yes it is, black swan. Can you talk?”

“Only for a minute. What are you doing in Bombay?”

“I’ve come to take you back to England.” He paused. “But only if that’s what you want.”

“Of course it’s what I want. Just tell me how.”