A few moments later Rajan emerged, holding a large box from the boot of the car. The box was moving and he was smiling. A small toffee-brown head poked out.

Rajan stroked the silken ears of the little dog. ‘It’s a Great Dane. I want a big dog: something that looks frightening but won’t be frightening.’

‘A puppy,’ Nandan whispered in disbelief. ‘For me, Appa, for me?’

‘No, Nandan, not for you, for Amma.’ He looked at his wife and caught the delight in her eyes. She smiled at him and he smiled shyly back.

Nala lingered on the black-and-white image. She loved that photograph—she loved that Archi was able to know her children before the light went out in her eyes; she loved that Amma had seen her do well in life; she loved that Priya would go on to marry well and have her own beautiful children. And she loved that underneath her sari, as Rajan was taking the photo, there sat a little toffee-coloured puppy, licking her toes and making her laugh. It was a beautiful day.

•

Nala finally came out of her bedroom, and after so many years of marriage Rajan still caught his breath at the sight of her. She looked at him, expectantly. He said nothing. She waited.

‘You’re healing well,’ he said.

‘I’m healing well?’ she repeated.

‘Yes, and your hearing is excellent.’

Today was her first real outing since she’d been released from hospital several months ago. She was healing well. The body has a remarkable ability to recover and regenerate, if given a chance.

She had been given a chance—they both had. He said a prayer to Lord Ganesha and an obligatory salutation to the planets, in particular Saturn, for their protection and generosity this time. The planets could be fickle in their favour and he would not risk a next time. All they could do was pay the local temple priest and wait for the alignments to change accordingly. Lately, the priest had seen a significant move for them, a move from an old home to a new home. He didn’t have to be an astrologer to predict that. He didn’t even have to be a surgeon or the President of a small but complex island, he thought, as he took Nala’s hand and helped her to the car.

She closed her eyes for most of the journey and didn’t see the magnificent manicured garden or the hedge-lined driveway. Queen Victoria watched over them, her marbled pallor aged and serious.

When they arrived at the pillared front door of President’s House, Rajan tapped and held Nala’s hand for a moment. A dark, thin boy in a white uniform guided them to a large reception room. His jacket was missing one of its brass buttons.