‘We owe so much to the Mahatma, it’s the least I could do. I’m going to throw a spring ball with an auction. Melvin will invite his set from Colombo, and of course the Senanayakes will come. Everyone will come.

‘The money will go to projects for the poor in India. There has been so much trouble since Independence. Such a tragedy,’ Philomena shook her head and wiped her mouth delicately.

‘There are projects here in Kandy you could also support,’ Nala spoke softly.

‘What?’

‘There are projects—here in Kandy,’ she repeated. She thought of Meenakshi, who now worked for her and Rajan as their new servant girl. ‘You could put some of the money into helping the Indian Tamils here.’ When no one responded, she continued, ‘You know how they live, Philomena. Their children are always sick. Perhaps we could do something for their children?’ Her hand went protectively to her belly.

Viktoria laughed loudly. ‘Why, Nala, I think that is a brilliant idea! Philomena, what do you think?’ she asked, arching one eyebrow at their hostess.

‘I—I don’t know what to say, Nala darling. Thank you for that idea—I will certainly give it some thought. Now, who would like more tea?’ Philomena clapped for her maid again.

•

Nala lay on the hospital bed, propped upright by pillows. Her parents had come from Colombo for her confinement. Amma sat on the bed with her, fanning her slowly. The windows in the room were open but the air was still, humidity sitting heavily on her belly.

Her contractions had started, but it was too early, the baby wasn’t due for another four weeks. Rajan said her blood pressure was high—eclampsia he called it, not staying to explain what that meant.

A week ago, he had been conducting his daily medical examination of her at home. He kept looking at her swollen feet, which she tried to hide from him.

‘Stop fidgeting!’ he almost shouted as he steadied the stethoscope. His fist clenched the rubber pump, inflating the cuff around her arm. It strangled her painfully. She was too afraid to ask him to stop. He had taken her pressure three times, watching the mercury rise to the top of the meter, then fall slowly down.

‘We’re going to the hospital, now,’ he said. Several weeks before, he had packed her hospital bag, which he gave to the servant boy. Amma started to cry but Appa had ushered her out of the room.

‘We’ll meet you at the hospital, mahan,’ Appa said to Rajan. Nala had seen that look on her father’s face before and she put her arms on her belly, around her child, as she too began to cry.