‘Partitioning Bengal and Punjab. The borders won’t work – the people on either side are too alike. Give it five years and it’ll all be one country again.’
 
 Rafi smiled. ‘I hope you are right.’
 
 After that, Clarrie steered the conversation to lighter topics, planning picnics with Sophie and a shopping trip to Shillong. Rafi spokeabout the regimental dinner planned in Delhi and his excitement at seeing his old Sikh comrade, Sundar Singh, again.
 
 ‘Adela and Sam always said how Sundar had a soft spot for your sister Fatima,’ Clarrie said.
 
 ‘Really?’ Libby’s eyes widened. ‘Did Fatima like him too? I’ve never heard her talk romantically about anyone.’
 
 ‘My sister is too dedicated to her work,’ laughed Rafi. ‘Always has been.’
 
 ‘I think Adela thought Fatima was fond of Sundar,’ answered Clarrie, ‘but not enough to marry him.’
 
 ‘Because he’s a Sikh?’ asked Libby.
 
 ‘That’s possible,’ admitted Rafi. ‘My parents would never have approved.’
 
 ‘I think if Fatima had wanted to marry,’ said Sophie, ‘she wouldn’t have let that put her off. Poor Sundar, he’s such a nice man – and widowed so young. He has a son in the Punjab, doesn’t he?’
 
 ‘Rawalpindi, I think,’ said Rafi. ‘His sister was caring for him while Sundar worked in Simla.’
 
 ‘What will happen to his son now?’ asked Libby. ‘Will any of the Sikhs stay in West Punjab?’
 
 Rafi shrugged.
 
 ‘It’s a bloody mess!’ cried James suddenly.
 
 ‘A British mess,’ said Libby.
 
 ‘Not entirely,’ said Rafi gallantly, ‘despite what Ghulam might say.’
 
 That night, upset by the Khans’ flight from Gulgat and an underlying fear over Ghulam and Fatima’s safety, Libby gave up on sleep and went on to the veranda. She found her father there, slumped in a long chair and staring into an empty whisky glass.
 
 She pulled a chair next to him, put his glass on the inlaid side table and slipped her hand into his.
 
 ‘I can’t sleep either, Dad. Penny for your thoughts?’
 
 He gave out a long anguished sigh. ‘What am I doing here, Libby? I’m behaving like a coward. I’m burying my head in the sand while the world is going mad around me. This business with the Khans has really shaken me up. I had no idea they were in any danger. Now Clarrie’s worried about M.D. and his family and I can’t stop thinking about Manzur and his parents. Are they in danger too? It’s all so ghastly.’
 
 Libby bit back a soothing platitude. There was no use in pretending things would go back to normal; the old way of life was coming to an abrupt end and none of them knew what the future would bring. She held on to his hand and let him continue talking, encouraged that he was beginning to confide in her.
 
 ‘I really believed that handing over political power wouldn’t affect us planters,’ said James. ‘India has always needed its box-wallahs – and probably appreciates them more than the snooty British “heaven-born” administrators ever have. But I never expected all this religious division – this hatred that is spreading like a fever. Where’s it all coming from, Libby?’
 
 Libby grimaced. ‘You might say we British have done our best to play one community off against another for the past century. Our colonial service is second to none at cataloguing and labelling people for our own ends.’
 
 James muttered, ‘I might have expected you to blame it all on us. No doubt that’s what your comrade Khan says?’
 
 ‘Actually, it’s not,’ said Libby. ‘He’s been very critical of the Indian political leaders on all sides for stoking up petty nationalism for political gain. But I don’t think he’ll ever forgive the British for not handing over independence a generation ago, before separatist ideas had taken hold. Thirty years ago, Indians died in their thousands helping us win theGreat War, but their reward was greater repression. That’s what made Ghulam take up the fight for freedom.’
 
 ‘India wasn’t ready then,’ said James.
 
 ‘Only the British thought that,’ Libby answered.
 
 James sighed again. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Who knows? It’s all too late now.’
 
 ‘So what do you want to do about Manzur and his family?’ she asked.
 
 Her father stared into the darkness. She thought he wasn’t going to answer and then he said, ‘I’m not going to do anything until I’ve spoken to Manzur. I’ve spent a lifetime telling people what to do. This time the choice has to be his.’
 
 Libby squeezed his hand. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’ She smiled, grateful that he was finally being open with her and treating her like an equal. Maybe Clarrie was right and they just needed a little more time.
 
 James raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Libby was taken aback by the tender gesture. Her heart swelled with affection. She raised his hand and kissed his back. James gave a soft laugh. It was the first time she had heard him laugh in an age and the sound brought tears to her eyes.