‘“Persecuted” is the word I’d use,’ said Dalberg. ‘Inside the country. But to the outside world, China wants to appear open and benevolent. That’s why they’re turning parts of Lhasa into a Buddhist theme park. Red robed monks. Beautifully restored temples. Lamaland—with its very own Potala Palace.’
‘Meantime they’re running syndicates to steal back the treasures they once tried to destroy?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Why the Sangye Menla statue?’

Dalberg shot me a meaningful glance. ‘It does seem coincidental.’

Sitting back in his chair, Dalberg appeared to suggest that I needed to work this out for myself. ‘I was expecting an American accent when you called from the airport,’ he mused. ‘Why did I think you were from Los Angeles?’

‘I lived in Los Angeles for several months before Bhutan,’ I confirmed. ‘But I was born and raised in Sussex.’

‘That’s right,’ he nodded. ‘One of the circle of our fellow Buddhists involved in the arcana of quantum science.’

After a pause I said, ‘You seem to know a lot about me.’

‘On the contrary.’

‘I’m surprised you even knew of my existence?’

‘The only Westerner at Tiger’s Nest monastery?’ Dalberg’s tone was droll. ‘The only student of the monastery’s most highly realized lama? Have you any idea how many people tried to persuade Lama Tsering to accept them as students over the years?’

I’d heard stories of Lama Tsering’s point blank refusals to take on even leading graduates from the pre-eminent Tibetan Buddhist colleges. But I’d never really thought about the reactions of those outside the monastery who might hear that no sooner had an ignorant Westerner climbed up the mountain to see the venerable lama, than he’d been taken on as a private pupil.

‘You attracted a lot of gossip when you arrived,’ said Dalberg. ‘From that point on, whenever people talked about you, Lama Tsering came up in conversation and, by association, the statue of Sangye Menla. You do know that he and the Sangye Menla statue are seen as practically synonymous outside the monastery?’

I didn’t, as it happened.

‘He brought the statue with him from Tibet, and since then things at the monastery seemed to change.’

Another information gap. Change—in what way?

‘When you came out of Tiger’s Nest for your solitary retreat, talk started up again,’ he nodded. ‘I’ve heard the statue mentioned twice in the past few weeks.’

I tried not to reveal how much he was unnerving me. When Lama Tsering had suggested that three months devoted to meditation practice would be useful, I had been the one to suggest a solitary retreat. It would be a personal challenge to see how well I could cope, stripped of all company and contact. I had wanted to prove to him that I could do this. Show him I was capable.

I remembered how Lama Tsering had tried to talk me out of leaving the monastery. How adamantly I’d resisted, regarding my sojourn away from Tiger’s Nest as an important test—almost like a badge of honor.