‘I need to think more. I need to think—but we still need to leave,’ he replied.

She paused before playing her trump card. ‘And what about your mother? We couldn’t take her with us; no country in the world would want our little retirement community.’ She knew as she said it that she had won, for the moment.

•

Philomena de Silva had aged well. When she laughed her mouth barely moved, which made her laugh sound like a hiccup, sometimes a cough.

‘Laugh lines, darling. They are the scourge of any woman in her forties,’ she said, inspecting her reflection in the silver tea set. Philomena was in her fifties.

‘You have a beautiful home, Nala—so simple and yet sophisticated. Like you.’ She lifted the corners of her mouth slightly.

‘Thank you, Philomena. I’m so pleased you could join me today, we don’t see each other nearly enough.’ Nala’s heart raced. She hadn’t slept well for weeks, not since she worked out what she was going to do. She sipped her tea and tried not to wince when it scalded her.

‘How are the ladies?’ she asked.

‘Well, last year Viktoria died finally. She had most certainly overstayed her welcome. And Felicia—that was shocking. She left the Judge for her son’s English tutor. Apparently they’d been carrying on for years. Judge only realised when the tutor was still popping over even though the boy had finished his A-levels and gone to Cambridge. You must have heard about that—such a scandal—and a surprise. It’s always the quiet, ugly ones you have to watch out for.’

Nala didn’t laugh. She remembered Felicia Gunawardene. The older lady had always been kind to her.

‘Where is she living now?’

‘Who?’ Philomena asked.

‘Felicia—where is she living?’

‘Oh, Kurunegala—I think she’s hiding in her family home. Judge gave her the dowry property back. He’s alone in their big house in Kandy. Utterly broken by it all, he is. They say he comes to court, drunk—drunk, at ten o’clock in the morning! They’re calling the tutor the Literature Lothario—isn’t that clever!’

Philomena caught herself before she laughed widely.

Again, Nala didn’t laugh. She had a plan. She tried not to vomit.

‘I miss the hill-country, Philomena. We were very happy there. We painted, we had teas together and talked about the future. Life was … uncomplicated.’

‘Yes, life in Colombo is terribly complicated isn’t it? Everyone expects more from you here; even servants make demands in the city. Melvin is an MP as you know—his constituents simply will not leave him alone. Thank you for your contribution to his campaign, by the way, I hope you got the note from our office?’

‘Yes, yes, thank you for that. Rajan and I were happy to contribute. Melvin deserves it; he deserves to represent the people of Kandy; all of the people.’