The Lantern's Dance by King Laurie R

Author:King, Laurie R. [King, Laurie R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical, Adult, Suspense
ISBN: 9780593496596
Amazon: 0593496590
Goodreads: 154462653
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2024-02-13T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-six

Sixth Image

The Tilak

When it comes to death in India, there is no room for lingering doubts. Nothing to soften the blow. A person dies, and within hours, their body is gone. For the traditional Hindu, this means being washed, wrapped in a white cloth, and taken to the burning ghats by the side of the river. Dry wood is laid, a torch is lowered, and the loved one is consumed in eager flames and a cloud of smoke that smells like nothing else in the world and coats the back of the throat for days. When the fire has cooled, the priests sweep the bones and ashes into the river to complete life’s cycle.

For a Christian, there is not even the elemental spectacle. A hole is dug, the body is hidden away. Where the Hindu is dispersed to the waters in a city’s midst, the European is hedged around by lead and covered over by stone.

But no matter the faith or heritage, in a hot climate there is no delay.

I had just turned fourteen when Pitaji died and my life ended.

No more laughter. No more adventures, no more lessons in peculiar activities—peculiar for girls, certainly. No more days in Calcutta, no more speaking in Hindi, no more word games or dressing up as a native or lying out at night tracking the stars.

Pitaji died on a Tuesday morning in a Calcutta alleyway, alone.

I was not with him that day. Even though I was officially a “young lady,” I still went with him into the city as often as I could, but not that day.

I had proposed that morning to abandon my breakfast and throw on my clothes, but he shook his head. “I need Arjun today, there’s been some difficulties he needs to look at. I can’t do it myself—I am to meet with a textile manufacturer from Lyons, who saw that silk we sent the Princess Hélène two years ago. He wants an exclusive contract for that colour.”

“Well, make him pay heavily.”

“I intend to.”

“You should take Arjun, after he’s finished with his difficulties.” Arjun had a knack for judging when a negotiation could be pushed a bit farther.

“I think he’d prefer to stay at the godown. We don’t know this man.” Meaning, he did not know how this Frenchman would look upon sitting down to negotiate in the company of a man with brown skin.

“Well, Arjun will be happier anyway if you don’t make him climb into a suit. That’s a handsome one, by the way.”

Pitaji made a perfect picture as he stood framed by the library doorway: a good-looking man with traces of grey in his hair and humour in his eyes, dressed in a cream-coloured silk suit that would be well creased by the time he returned home.

“I thought new clothes might bring me luck.”

“I could go with you. I’d distract him while you quietly upped the price.”

He laughed at my offer of coquetry. “Tempting, but your history tutor is coming.”

“The man is only interested in Europe.

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