The train was packed with standing room only, and Kate suspected that some of the passengers had climbed up onto the roof, but she huddled in a corner with Mira and neither of them spoke until they reached their destination. They were swept along by the crowd, who had leaped from the carriages, and Kate found herself standing beside Mira on the dusty road outside the station. Kate had Ashok’s address tucked into the neck of the blouse she wore beneath the sari that Mira had fashioned for her. She took the slip of paper out and handed it to Mira.

‘This is where we have to go. Perhaps you could ask someone for directions?’

Mira glanced at it and smiled. ‘I know this street. My grandmother lives not far from there. I used to visit her often when I was a child.’

‘Is it far to walk?’

‘No, it’s quite near. We don’t need to hire a tonga. Perhaps I could visit my grandmother while you call upon your friends?’

‘I need you to do the talking for me, Mira. I doubt if Ashok will be there – he’s a soldier and is probably away on duty. I’m looking for Harry Lyndon, or maybe he is using the name Harry Trader. He is the one I want to find.’ Kate walked on with Mira falling into step at her side.

‘But I thought it was the subedar-major you loved, memsahib.’

‘That was a long time ago and so much has changed since then, Mira. I will always have a place in my heart for Ashok, but I’m afraid it wasn’t meant to be.’

‘I am sorry.’ Mira flashed her a sideways glance. ‘But if you see him again it might bring back all those tender feelings.’

‘That is something I will have to risk.’ Kate quickened her step. ‘How far now?’

‘Nearly there.’ Mira pointed to a small white house surrounded by peepal trees, but even as they prepared the cross the street, people dressed in their finest clothes appeared from the rear of the building.

‘It’s a wedding procession,’ Mira said, grabbing Kate by the arm and pulling her into the shade of a coralwood tree.

Kate had seen many such processions when she had lived in Delhi and they never failed to impress her. The glorious colours of the costumes and the variety of printed cottons, silks and chiffons trimmed with gold braid, sequins and glass beads were something wonderful to see. The men were as magnificent as the women, but it was the bridegroom, riding a splendid white horse, who caught Kate’s attention. She bit her lip to prevent herself from calling his name, and she leaned against the trunk of the tree, clenching her fists until the pain of her nails digging into her flesh was almost too much to bear.

‘Ashok!’ she murmured on a deep sigh.