City of Ghosts (6 page)

Sohni's father looked up and sneered. ‘What do you want?' he asked Gurdial, looking at him with contempt.

‘I . . .'began Gurdial, but the words failed him.

‘Are you begging for something?' spat Gulbaru. ‘You poor people are always asking for something.'

‘No, sir,' replied Gurdial. ‘I wanted to speak to you.'

Gulbaru sneered again. ‘And what would a snivelling wretch like
you
have to talk about?'

Gurdial cleared his throat. ‘It is delicate,' he told him. ‘Can we speak outside?'

Gulbaru looked beyond Gurdial to Bissen. ‘Are you with
him
?' he asked the soldier, dismissing the young man with a nod movement of his head.

Bissen nodded but said nothing.

‘So what does this boy have to tell me? Is it some sort of scam?'

Bissen shook his head. ‘It is a delicate matter,
bhai-ji
,' he replied respectfully. ‘It would be much better if we spoke in private.' He nodded at the customers in the shop, all of whom were now listening in to their conversation.

Gulbaru thought about it for a second and then
shrugged. He picked up a thick wooden club from the counter as he made his way towards the back of the shop.

‘Let's talk then,' he said to Bissen and Gurdial without looking at them. ‘But be warned: I have broken the heads of better men than you.'

Bissen looked at Gurdial and gestured for him to follow Sohni's father. ‘You can be sure,
bhai-ji
,' he told Gulbaru, ‘that it is not a trick.'

The customers watched the two men and the boy go into the back room of the shop with interest. When the door was closed they turned to Moti-Lal.

‘Is there something wrong?' asked the woman in the gold and yellow sari.

The shop assistant shrugged. ‘I do not know. But I cannot imagine that Gulbaru Singh has business with either of those two.'

As they returned their attention to the back room they heard Gulbaru Singh break out in howls of laughter. Not the warm laughter of a man who had been told a good joke but the cold, heartless, arrogant laughter of one who could not believe what he was being told by men he knew to be his inferiors.

‘Surely this is some sort of joke,' said Gulbaru.

Bissen shook his head.

‘But it must be. You come to me with this orphan boy, this penniless wretch who reeks of sweat and mouldy onions, and you ask me if I will allow
my daughter to be his wife? Do you think I am mad?'

‘No,
bhai-ji
,' answered Bissen.

‘Then do not waste my time,' spat Gulbaru. ‘Can you not see that I am a busy man with money to make?'

Gurdial cleared his throat. ‘I will do anything you ask of me, sir,' he insisted.

Gulbaru waved his hand in the boy's face. ‘And what can
you
do for me?' he asked, his eyes cold. ‘You are a beggar and a fool. What could you
possibly
bring me or provide for me that would matter?'

‘I will do whatever you ask of me,' repeated Gurdial, his hopes fading.

Gulbaru thought for a moment. Then something in his eyes changed. The coldness remained but a spark of mischief also appeared. He smiled at the orphan boy. ‘Very well,' he said.

Gurdial's eyes widened in shock. Was he dreaming or had Sohni's father just agreed to their union? He shot a glance at Bissen, who remained calm. ‘So you are happy for me to marry Sohni?' he asked hurriedly.

Once again Gulbaru began to howl like a demented hyena and tears flowed down his cheeks. His laughter echoed around the room. Gurdial realized that he had misheard.

‘I would be happier if she married a dog!' Gulbaru told him.

‘But you said very well . . .'

Gulbaru shook his head. ‘Listen to me, boy, and listen well. I will allow you to marry my daughter on one
simple condition and one alone. You have until Vaisakhi to bring me the
most precious thing in the whole of India.'

Gurdial looked at Bissen, unsure of what to say or do.

‘Are you simple?' asked Gulbaru. ‘Do not look at him, boy! I want the most precious thing in the whole of India by Vaisakhi or I will personally remove your head from your shoulders for daring to ask for my daughter.'

Gurdial realized he had no choice. He nodded.

Bissen stood up straight and looked into Gulbaru's eyes. ‘I have witnessed this agreement,' he warned him, ‘and I will hold you to it. If the boy does as you ask then you will allow the marriage—'

Gulbaru snorted.

‘Remember,' Bissen went on, ‘I will keep you to your word or I will die trying.'

Gulbaru cackled like an old hag. ‘Die trying then,' he told him. ‘It will be far easier than taking me on.'

Bissen turned to Gurdial. ‘Come! Let's go.'

He opened the door for Gurdial.

‘Remember!' Gulbaru shouted after them. ‘Until Vaisakhi!'

The laugh that erupted from him was almost demonic.

Gurdial sat on the steps of the orphanage with his head in his hands and wondered why God had made his life so difficult. How on earth was he to know what the most precious thing in India was – and even if he did work it out, how was he supposed to get it? It could be anywhere, from the beaches of Kerala to the plains of Rajasthan and everywhere in between. And all before the festival of Vaisakhi, which fell in the second week of April.

‘We'll find a way,' said Bissen, who was sitting next to him.

Gurdial looked up and shook his head, his eyes watering. ‘We will
never
find a way,
bhai-ji
,' he replied, resigned to his sorrow. ‘Sohni and I will
never
be together.'

‘But you can still run away,' Bissen reminded him.

‘We can,' Gurdial agreed, ‘but that isn't what honourable people do. And it will be difficult with no money—'

‘But it
can
be done. Nothing is finished and nothing is certain. And for now you must hold onto that. You knew that the chances of Gulbaru Singh agreeing to your request were slim. Now you must find another way, that's all.'

The door to the orphanage opened with a loud creak and Mata Devi looked out onto the steps. ‘Gurdial – where have you been?' she asked. ‘I had some errands for you this afternoon.'

Gurdial turned to make some sort of excuse but Bissen beat him to it. ‘Good afternoon, Mata Devi-ji.'

‘
Sat-sri-akaal
,' she replied. ‘And why are you sitting on my steps?'

Bissen smiled at her. ‘I needed some help today. My wounds have been playing up and I asked Gurdial to give me a hand.'

Mata Devi smiled and asked him if he wanted to come inside and have some tea.

‘No, no,' replied Bissen, ‘I must hurry home and attend to something but I want to thank you for raising these young men so well. Gurdial has been a great help to me.'

‘I'm glad to hear it, my son,' replied Mata Devi. ‘He is a good boy with a kind heart. Now, are you sure you won't come in and eat with us?'

Bissen shook his head. ‘Perhaps tomorrow.'

‘Come along then, Gurdial,' said Mata Devi. ‘There are still chores left to do.'

Gurdial stood up and dusted himself off.

‘Come and find me tomorrow,' Bissen told him. ‘If you have the time.'

Gurdial nodded before turning to his guardian. ‘Is Jeevan back yet?' he asked her.

Mata Devi shook her head and led Gurdial inside as Bissen took his leave. ‘I'm not sure what is going on with Jeevan,' she told him. ‘He just isn't his usual self at the moment. Do you know where he's been going?'

Gurdial shrugged. ‘No, Mata-ji,' he lied.

Gulbaru Singh waited until his daughter had left the room before speaking to his wife.

‘A strange thing happened to me today,' he told her.

Darshana Kaur looked up at her husband and arched her single brow. Her beady eyes searched his face for clues. What was he talking about? Behind him, an old mirror threw her reflection back at her. She winced. Before marrying Gulbaru, when they were lovers, she had been a strikingly beautiful creature. Her hair had been long and lustrous and her eyes had sparkled. Her skin was once smooth and her teeth perfect rows of white enamel. Her young body had been strong and hard, with full breasts and enticing curves. But from the day they'd married everything had changed.

Now she was a hag – her teeth brown and rotten, her hair greasy and thin; her once admired figure had gone, and hair had begun to sprout on her chest and back and no amount of sugaring or shaving stopped it. And worse still, even more perplexing and maddening, was the smell that she carried with her – of rotten vegetables and rancid milk, a scent that she could not remove, no matter how many times she washed herself. And all of it had begun after they'd wed – barely six months after his first wife had died, butchered by their hands. How long would it be, she asked herself, before Gulbaru plotted her demise too? A second glance at her reflection told her that it would not be very long at all.

‘A strange thing?' she asked quietly.

‘
Very
strange,' replied Gulbaru. ‘Apparently my daughter has a suitor.'

This time the black caterpillar that sat above
Darshana's eyes arched of its own accord. ‘A
suitor
?'

Gulbaru nodded.

‘And this man is willing to take her off our hands?' At last, Darshana thought to herself, a husband for the little bitch. For many years she had wanted to get rid of Sohni, in much the same way as she and Gulbaru had rid themselves of the two daughters she'd borne. Now the opportunity to remove Sohni
without
killing her presented itself. She smiled.

‘Oh, I've no doubt that he will take her off our hands,' Gulbaru told her, ‘but he is only a boy. And a poor one at that.'

‘A poor boy?' asked Darshana, her smile fading. In her husband's eyes she saw rage. ‘Shall I fetch her from the kitchen?'

Gulbaru thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘For now this remains between us. Besides, there is no hope of the boy ever fulfilling the quest I have set him.'

‘What
quest
?' enquired Darshana.

‘The beggar told me that he would do anything to gain my daughter. So I told him to bring me the most valuable thing in all of India, by Vaisakhi.'

Darshana frowned in confusion.

‘Are you
demented
?' spat Gulbaru. ‘There is no way on earth that I will allow my daughter to marry such a dog! I have set him a task that he has no hope of fulfilling, and while he wastes his time I will work out how to kill him.'

‘Ah,' said Darshana. ‘Do you want me to take care of that part?'

Gulbaru shook his head. ‘This is something I want to do alone. This wretch wishes to make me a laughing stock but I will not allow it. No, what I want
you
to do is watch my daughter like a hawk. The boy insists that they have never met but I don't believe him. I want you to follow her, to find out if they are already lovers.'

Darshana nodded. ‘And if they are?'

‘Then Sohni can join her mother. No one will destroy my reputation – no one!'

Darshana's smile reappeared. ‘I understand . . .'

She stood up, walked over to him and began to knead his shoulders with her warty hands. ‘Does this feel as good as it always did?' she asked.

Gulbaru grunted.

‘The Chinaman thinks that we have a very good chance of conceiving a boy,' she added.

‘Does he really?' replied Gulbaru sarcastically. ‘For the amount of money he takes from me, he had better be right.'

Darshana let her hands wander down her husband's chest. ‘Perhaps we should try now?' she suggested.

Back in the shadows by the front door, Mohni stood silently and averted his gaze. He'd heard everything the couple had plotted and knew he had to act. Quickly, he let himself out and made his way to the narrow lane
that ran down the side of the house, looking around to make sure he wasn't being followed. The lane was dark but Mohni knew it well.

She was quick to arrive, her appearance heralded by the sweet aroma of mangoes and cream.

‘
Sat-sri-akaal
,' said Mohni.

‘You have news?' asked the woman, adjusting her black shawl.

Mohni nodded and told her everything he'd overheard.

When he was finished the woman sighed. ‘There is much evil at work. What about the boy?'

‘I'm not sure what to do about him,' replied Mohni. ‘This quest – I don't even know if he will begin it. I think it would be best if they left.'

‘No,' insisted the woman. ‘Sohni cannot leave her home. You leave the boy to me.'

Mohni nodded in agreement. ‘So you will help them soon?'

‘No,' she said. ‘I will help them when the time is right – until then I will watch over them.'

‘And what about Gulbaru and the witch?'

The woman smiled. ‘I'll take care of that too – perhaps keep them occupied until I can think of something.'

Mohni asked her how she would do that.

The woman chuckled. ‘There is much that we can do.Perhaps one day you will find out.'

It was Mohni's turn to laugh. ‘It is something I should
have discovered long ago – this power. But I made someone a promise and I intend to keep it.'

The woman nodded. ‘Be careful. You are also in great danger,' she told him. ‘The witch will come after you. Be prepared.'

‘Let her come,' answered Mohni.