ANISH Perhaps not. I’m sure my father never had a single one of his paintings reproduced, and that is an extraordinary pleasure for an artist. I know! The painting under one’s hand is everything, of course … unique. But replication! That is popularity! Put us on book jackets—calendars—biscuit tins! Oh, he would have been quite proud!

MRS SWAN By the way, what were your father’s beliefs?

ANISH (Surprised) Why … we are Hindu …

MRS SWAN You said he had suffered for his beliefs.

ANISH Oh. I meant his opinions.

MRS SWAN How did he suffer

ANISH He was put in prison.

MRS SWAN Really? By whom?

ANISH Well, by you.

MRS SWAN By me? Oh … by us. But how did we know what his opinions were?

ANISH It seems he took part in some actions against the Raj during the Empire Day celebrations in Jummapur.

MRS SWAN Then he was put in prison for his actions, not his opinions, Mr Das, and obviously deserved what he got. Will you have a slice of cake?

ANISH Thank you.

MRS SWAN Victoria sponge or Battenberg?

ANISH Oh …

MRS SWAN The sponge is my own, raspberry jam included.

ANISH I would love some … thank you.

MRS SWAN Tea? But all that must have been before you were born.

ANISH Oh, yes, I was the child of my father’s second marriage. I was born long after Independence, and my father went to prison in Jummapur in 1930.

MRS SWAN 1930! But that was when Flora was in Jummapur!

ANISH Yes, I know. That is why I am here.

Mrs Swan administers tea.

Flora takes the cap off her fountain pen.

FLORA Are we friends this morning?

DAS I hope so! Why do you ask that? Has something happened?

FLORA Oh. No. (She laughs. He frowns, painting.) Well, I thought if we’re friends I’ll ask you to write something on the drawing you did of me. (She produces the pencil sketch.)

DAS Oh, but that was only a poor scribble! Not even a good likeness!

FLORA Even so.

DAS Oh.

He is taken aback but then realizes he is being teased. He laughs.

FLORA Yes, you won’t get anywhere with that. (Nazrul, the servant, brings a jug of fresh lemonade and two glasses, which he puts on the table.) Namby pani time!

NAZRUL Nimbupani!

FLORA (Getting up) Thank you, Nazrul … Shukriya!

Nazrul responds and leaves.

DAS Actually, I have something for you, a little present.

FLORA Have you? You mustn’t keep giving me things, Mr Das!

DAS Well, it is a kind of birthday present, you see.

FLORA Especially not birthday presents when it isn’t my birthday.

Das gives her an old but well-preserved book. It is green with a brown spine. In fact it is a copy of Up the Country by Emily Eden [1866].

DAS I did not buy it, it is a book of my father’s which I would like you to have. Letters by an English lady travelling in India a hundred years ago.