Anila's Journey Read Online Free PDF

here. But almost immediately we were at the great glassed doors of Mrs Panossian’s shop and the waft of roasting coffee beans was in my nose instead. In the window, boys with long irons tumbled the beans over and over in a great iron bucket oven heated from below by a charcoal fire bowl. The rich aroma squeezed out through every gap in the window frames. Behind this morning work I could see the dark shelves that reached right to the ceiling all round the shop.
    â€œI have an idea, Anoush, a plan. For you, too…”
    A clatter came from inside, a loud voice. “Anoush!”
    â€œCall in when you are finished and tell me how it goes,” said Anoush, quickly. “You can talk to Auntie then too. Something will work for you, Anila, I’m sure of it.”
    She patted my arm, then pushed through the doors and was gone.

THE RING
    BACK AGAIN ON THE ESPLANADE I dipped between the palkis and the buggies and dodged a holy man covered in ashes who was shuffling along with his eyes closed. The long building ahead that looked like a temple was the Supreme Court. That was where the Asiatick Society did its business, Miss Hickey had told me.
    A barrier ran between the building and the pathway and when I found a gate it was locked, with a sentry in a sentry box in front of it. The soldier’s hand rested on a musket that stood as upright as he did. Behind him in the box, a large brown dog with matted curly hair was stretched out. The dog opened an eye to look at me and then closed it again.
    â€œSir, I have to deliver a letter to Mr Edward Walker,” I said.
    Minutes seemed to pass before the soldier moved his eyes from the far distance to my face. But he said nothing. Behind him the dog sighed like a human.
    I held the letter up so that he could see the address in Miss Hickey’s fine script.
    He said nothing but suddenly put two fingers of his left hand into his mouth and whistled as loudly as a boy with a fat blade of river grass. Behind him two men ran forward and pulled on the spears of the gates. They made an opening that was just wide enough for me.
    â€œFirst door at the river end of the building, then ask,” he said. “You’re in luck. Mr Walker has just come back to us since yesterday. He woke up old Curly Dundas here this morning first thing, remembered to bring him a buttered bit from his breakfast, as he always does. He’s a good sort, Mr Walker.”
    I made to move but he spoke again and jabbed his thumb at my hand.
    â€œYour ring. Where did you get it?” he asked.
    Did he think I had stolen it? I caught a breath.
    â€œIt is a gift from my guardian. She is an Irish lady.”
    â€œYes,” he said. “She must be, to have a Claddagh ring.”
    He reached into a pocket of his uniform jacket and took out a ring just like mine but twice, no, three times as big.
    â€œIt’s no good to me in the heat over here,” he said. “The fingers swell up so I can’t wear it. I have this from my sweetheart back home. But look. You should turn yours round with the hands and heart facing in. Wearing it out like that means that you’ve got a fancy man – and you’re a bit young for that, aren’t you?”
    I blushed. But he was being kind so I thanked him and smiled my best smile at him. He slammed his heels together and straightened up and then his eyes returned again to the fascinating space ahead. I felt encouraged by this encounter. But I wondered. If the soldier had not seen the ring with its hands and heart facing out to him, perhaps he might not have been so helpful. I would leave it facing out for now. For luck.
    Yet what had he meant about Mr Walker returning?
The Gazette
had said:
returning to Calcutta in January
. That was at least nine days away. I had thought to leave my letter at the right door and then make my way back to Mrs Panossian’s store. I wanted a quiet word with Anoush.
    But perhaps this was luck too.
    I went