Harish Hope and the Earls of Wishanger Hall by A. K. Karla

Author:A. K. Karla
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cultural fiction
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2022-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

The following morning before Rajinder left to go to his office, Rani promised to visit that evening and spend the night at his apartment in the city. Maybe they could take a walk through the streets to see the fortune teller at work in the square, if he was there? He might even call out to her to say he had been waiting for a long time, and ask that she sit on the mat to hear her fate? He certainly had been waiting a long time, and would continue to wait, if she had anything to do with it. Maybe she should sit on the rush mat in front of him and pull wooden discs from a bag, so that he could tell her she would cross an ocean to visit her beloved son in England? Or perhaps he would he tell her that her very soul was so broken that it could never be repaired again? That would be far more accurate, because it was what she had always felt.

After Rajinder left, she hurried up the stairs and behind the statue of Parvati. Pulling back the velvet curtain she opened the door it covered, entered the prayer room, and within seconds was kneeling at the feet of Jesus. She prayed for the man who had given his life to her, losing so much time that he could have spent with another woman who might have made him happy. He would soon be in his office with his son, Adi, attending to his legal duties. Reminded of this, she prayed for him too, knowing that he loved his father deeply, and also regretted the years his father had wasted on the woman with the silver eyes, who barely left the house.

She prayed for George, Gopal, Leila and Indi, who worked tirelessly at St Monica’s just a few doors away. She prayed for the girls that lived there, for Sister Monica in England, and the other nuns that she’d lived with for fifteen years. She prayed for the man found dead under the bridge all those years ago, that she had never forgotten. She prayed that Harish Snr might know his son was in England and, as he had wished, had claimed back the title at last. She prayed for her son, his dear companion, Delilah, and for the continuation of their endless supply of courage, then for her friend, Meera, who had courage in plenty when it came to the protection of others, but little for herself. For the first time ever, she then prayed for herself, begging for mercy and the freedom of heart and spirit to let herself love and be loved without conditions or restraint.

George found her there several hours later. Still on her knees below the wooden cross, its occupant gazing down in perpetuity, he carefully placed an arm around her shoulders and helped her up.

‘Oh George,’ she cried. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘This you will never need to know,’ he replied. ‘Never.’

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