She made a list in her notebook about furniture. Dr Fonseka’s wife down the road had some beautiful English pieces: dark wood tables, cane chairs, almirahs, ornate mirrors, and a grandfather clock. Nala would need all of that now that they had the house. She would have to speak to Dolly Fonseka about where to shop.

Rajan would disagree of course; he could be such a villager at times. He hated to spend money, but she would convince him. It was for his own good.

She walked down the corridor, past the bedrooms for her children—each had their own room, but she knew Priya and Dhara would insist on sleeping together. She had ordered an extra-large bed for Priya’s room and another for Dhara’s room. Rajan and Nala had asked Vani to move in with them, instead of simply sleeping over sometimes. Vani had cried and apologised for not taking Dhara back. Nala cried too, and reassured her that they loved the child and wanted to do what was best for her. Vani’s physical injuries had healed a long time ago, but Gal Oya had changed her. Living with Nala was what was best for Dhara.

Nandan had his own room too, but at only three years old, he made his way into Nala’s bed every night. She looked forward to his sweet moon face peering into hers, just before he jumped in and put his little arms possessively across her belly. Rajan didn’t mind Nandan coming into their bed as long as the boy didn’t wet himself. That’s very practical of you, she thought, irritated.

At the end of the corridor were two rooms for their relatives: her mother, her grandmother—Archi, and her mother-in-law. She sighed at the thought of her mother-in-law. She would have to do her duty. Her father had raised her properly. He would have been proud of her, especially if he knew what a difficult woman Devaki turned out to be.