City of Ghosts Read Online Free PDF Page A

.’
    â€˜Perhaps we should throw her down a well?’ suggested Mohni with a glint in his eye.
    Sohni smiled. It was his stock reply. ‘I just wish I could get away from here,’ she said. ‘Somewhere far away . . .’
    â€˜With Gurdial?’
    As with everything else in her life, Sohni had told the man she called uncle all about her love. ‘Yes,’ she replied.
    Mohni sighed. ‘I watched your mother fall madly in love with a boy when she was your age. But the Gods had a different plan for her . . .’
    â€˜She married my father instead – I know.’
    Something passed across Mohni’s face – a shadow from the past.
    â€˜What is it,
chacha-ji
?’ Sohni asked.
    Mohni smiled sweetly. ‘It is nothing, child. Just an old memory of your mother. Each time I look at you I see her . . .’
    Unaware of the lie, Sohni smiled back and gave her uncle a hug. The old man hated lying to the girl but he had promised her mother many things. And in a lifetime that stretched across eighty-two years, he had never once broken a promise.
    â€˜I promised your mother that I would look after you until you became someone’s wife,’ Mohni added. ‘And I shall do just that. It is the only thing that keeps this wreck of a body going.’
    Sohni shook her head. ‘Who are you trying to fool?’ she said. ‘You are as strong as an ox.’
    Mohni smiled weakly. ‘Only my heart,’ he told her. ‘If it wasn’t for my heart, the rest of me would have returned to the earth long ago.’
    â€˜Your heart?’ asked Sohni, confused.
    â€˜Why, yes, my child. It beats only as long as you need me. Once you are settled, this old goat can move on to the next journey.’
    Sohni tightened her hold on the old man. ‘But I will need you for ever,’ she teased.
    â€˜Well, in that case I will become a very old goat indeed,’ he replied.
    A door slammed shut inside the house. Sohni’s stepmother had returned.
    â€˜Quick!’ warned Mohni. ‘Don’t let the witch see us together.’
    Sohni let her uncle go and walked slowly back into the house, hoping against hope that her stepmother would take an afternoon nap. Perhaps then she’d be able to sneak out and meet Gurdial.
    But it was not to be. Once inside she saw that her stepmother was agitated. The lines on her forehead were pronounced, and the single brow that sat above her eyes like a caterpillar was lowered. Even her crooked and hooked nose twitched with anxiety. She was not a happy woman. Standing next to her was an old Chinaman, with hair as white as blossom, stooped over with age. His skin looked fragile, as if it was made from dried rice paper. However, his eyes blazed out like emerald torches.
    â€˜Get me a hammer!’ Sohni’s stepmother ordered.
    â€˜A hammer?’ she queried.
    â€˜Don’t question me, you bitch!’
    A fire raged inside Sohni but outwardly she remained calm. The last time she had shown her true feelings, she had borne the resulting bruises for two weeks. She was in no mood for another savage beating. ‘Very well,’ she replied.
    She walked round to her father’s workshop, found an old hammer and returned to the house. The Chinaman was pulling five-inch nails from a cloth bag. He raisedone up to the light and studied it carefully. Satisfied, he took the hammer from Sohni, went calmly over to the front door and proceeded to bang the nail into the wood. Once he had finished he repeated the process with a new nail. On his fourth such act, Sohni quizzed her stepmother.
    â€˜To your room!’ spat Darshana Kaur. ‘Before I put out your eyes!’
    Sohni decided not to argue and left the room gladly. But instead of going to her own room, she stood behind the kitchen door and listened as her stepmother began to chant incantations and the Chinaman continued to damage the door. Sohni smiled to herself. It had to be