“So is it …” I pause to think how to phrase the question. “Is it frowned upon to be part of a couple, then? Here, I mean.”

“Were you at the seminar where Isaac talked about attachment?”

“No, not that one.”

“Right, well you won’t understand what we mean by the toxic mind, then. Basically, if we’re to be truly happy, we need to free our minds of anger, ignorance and attachment.”

“So no falling in love? No …” Daisy’s face flashes through my mind. “… close friends?”

“You can love. Of course you can. We positively encourage you to love those around you, but we discourage the kind of love that claims another as a possession. When we love someone exclusively, we’re welcoming all sorts of ugly emotions into our lives – jealousy, mistrust, suspicion, attachment, need, desperation, confusion, frustration.”

“You say that, but what about trust, warmth, caring, intimacy—”

“We share all those emotions collectively, Emma.” Johan stops walking and faces me. “But because we’re not exclusively attached to individuals, there is no jealousy, no possessiveness, no anger. We can no more claim another person as our own than claim the air we breathe.”

“But don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss having one person love you and you love them back?”

Johan’s expression remains the same – emotionless, stalwart, in control – but something flickers in his eyes, a spark of regret or longing, and then it’s gone.

“No,” he says. “Why would I? I get to sleep with whomever I want, whenever I want, and no one gives me any shit. Isn’t that every man’s dream?”

He throws back his head and laughs, but the laughter seems forced and the fine lines around his eyes don’t crease when his eyelids shut.

He’s lying.

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

There’s no sign of Ruth’s body on the bank of the river. All that remains of last night’s cremation is a riverbank muddy with dozens of footprints, and a black, ashy rectangle where the pyre used to be. The air is clear and still, and the sun is bouncing off the fast-flowing river. The tinkle of female laughter carries from the waterfall, where a small group of women play beneath the cascading water.

The fence looks smaller than it did last night, the barbed wire on the top less intimidating. Johan and I must have walked around the perimeter twelve or thirteen times before we heard the gong that signified the end of our shift. We chatted, but only superficially, small talk about the difference between Sweden and the UK and the dwindling food rations at Ekanta Yatra. When I asked about his family and friends back home, Johan began pointing out the various flora and fauna we were passing.