The sun skated off the water. The Parramatta River lapped the shore, brown dirty hands on the coarse pebbled beach. It wasn’t ideal but it would have to do. Priya made the mixture. Milk, holy ash, jasmines and more ash swirled together in a red Bunnings bucket. It was a cheap one. They would throw it away afterwards. Her mother leaned over the bucket and poured a sachet of kunkumam in. She no longer wore it. The red powder swirled and disappeared.

Nandan carried the bucket to the water’s edge and set it down. That was when they all noticed the swimmer. He had noticed them already. Large, pointed sunhat, sunglasses and an amply sagging belly in Speedos turned towards them.

Her brother started to panic. ‘Acca,’ he mumbled, his back to her as he faced the water. ‘What shall we do?’

‘Nandan, turn around, I can’t hear you properly,’ she replied. It was late morning and the breeze from the water carried nothing more than the smell of ferry smoke and petrol. It was too hot for all of them to be standing around at Cabarita Park, especially Nala. Siva helped Nala to the grassy bank around the small beach. She stood away from the water, leaning heavily on his arm.

‘Just act normal, Acca,’ Nandan replied, turning around with exaggerated casualness. ‘I’m pretending to watch the ferry. That man is looking at us.’

‘Of course he’s looking at us, Nandan mama.’ Smrithi joined them at the water. She spoke without looking at Priya. ‘Twelve Sri Lankan Tamils hanging out by the beach, wearing traditional clothing and carrying a bucket. That’s not suspicious at all. Plus we’ve just prayed to the Sun God, but it looks like we’re worshipping the River Cat.’

Priya laughed. It was good to hear her voice. Afterwards, she thought, she would ask Smrithi if she could take the children for an ice cream. She felt like pistachio today. Smrithi would say no, but one day she might say yes.

Nandan laughed too, more nervously. ‘I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. He might report us.’

Priya looked over at the man and inspected him as closely as he was inspecting her. She wondered if he had a phone in his Speedos.

‘Don’t stare, Acca,’ Nandan hissed.

‘I’ll do it,’ she said. She let the water lap her feet. It was cool.

‘What?’ her brother asked.

‘I’ll do it,’ she repeated, holding her hand out for the bucket. Her toes gripped the sand. She felt anchored.

‘You can’t. I’m supposed to,’ he replied.

‘Then do it.’

‘I can’t, not just yet. Let’s look for shells or something. Pretend we’re here for a reason.’

‘We are here for a reason and I want to do it,’ Priya said softly. Nandan stood firmly, ankle deep in water, the bucket handle now clenched in his fist.