Chapter 36

Fareeha lay on her side, and curled her right hand beneath the pillow; she drew up both legs and placed her left hand between them, knowing that if she could hold it there, gently pressing against her crotch, she could keep the ache at bay. The problem was that figures haunted her during the night and in her fitful sleep she would move from her foetal position and awake in pain. Who would come first tonight? Bashar Khan, with his threats? Muzaffer with his contempt? Hassan with his bad news about the money? Nisham, the Armenian smuggler, with his tardy mail delivery? Recently McBride had been showing up, that red-faced Scott, with his endless talk on balancing profits with risk. Rashid was often there, too, enticing her back aboard The Maharaja with promises of a new life on the sub-continent. And Phipps, the blue-eyed Englishman, with his slurred speeches on the water table; he often made a late arrival—and always gave her the greatest stab of pain.

Tonight, however, her nightmares began before she had even closed her eyes.

She heard the hooves first, clopping over the broken surface of the road; then she heard the foul mouths of the muleteers, cursing at the animals and at one another.

She jumped out of bed, rushed to the window, and drew back the flour sack. The first thing she saw was the barrel of a rifle, slung over the silhouette of a shoulder and pointing up towards the waning crescent moon. The owner of the weapon suddenly jerked to one side as the donkey beneath him brayed and reared backwards. He cursed at the beast and reslung his gun.

Fareeha stepped away from the window as her bedroom filled with the sounds of the animals: the cracking hooves, the heavy puffing and panting, the occasional sharp bray as a mule or a donkey reacted to a cane, a whip, or a rifle butt. She turned her back to the wall and leaned against it, her heart tapping at the night shirt she wore. As the animals were disappearing into the night she was sure she recognised a voice as it tore into one of the dull beasts. ‘Tomorrow,’ she said to herself, ‘tomorrow.’

She returned to bed, where she lay awake for a long time, waiting for her nightmares to begin.