City of Ghosts Read Online Free PDF

another fertility ritual. The one thing that was driving both her stepmother and her father mad was the lack of a male heir to their fortune. Darshana had borne two daughters, both of whom had died as infants, but had yet to produce a son. And Sohni was well aware that her father would rather burn everything he owned to ashes than hand it over to her – a girl.
    â€˜Stupid old witch,’ Sohni said under her breath, before going off to find something else to occupy her time.
    Out in the garden, Mohni stood by the moss-covered wall, talking to a woman he usually met in the marketplace. She wore a white
salwaar kameez
and her face was wrapped in a black scarf which would, on closer inspection, have proved to be made of the finest silk that money could buy. As they spoke, the woman gesturedtowards the house. Mohni grinned and whispered something to her, moving his head towards hers. They shared a moment of laughter before the woman spoke again. Mohni nodded his agreement and then waved the woman away. She turned and made her way back down the lane. Mohni watched her leave before stooping to pick up the basket of vegetables at his feet – vegetables the woman had brought him. When he looked back down the lane, the woman was gone. A single butterfly, the colour of a cloudless summer sky, fluttered past Mohni’s face.
    â€˜Butterflies in winter?’ he said to himself with a sly grin. ‘How very odd.’

28 January 1919
    THE WALK TOOK Gurdial twenty minutes, along a dusty, rutted and potholed road. He had left the city at midday, heading south, along one of the routes taken by the farmers who brought their goods to market each day. The nearest village was another ten minutes’ walk but Gurdial left the road where he always did, just past two giant trees. The field he entered was L-shaped and dropped away from the road, its steep banks overgrown with hemp plants. He worked his way through them until he had reached the stream, then followed the slow-running water towards the copse where Sohni was waiting for him.
    As Gurdial approached he could not stop staring at her. She was more beautiful than anything or anyone he had ever seen. Her sunlight-coloured hair was tied up in a bun and her smooth alabaster skin had a rosy hue. When she saw him, her eyes, as blue as the
amrit
thatsurrounded the Golden Temple, sparkled. She looked like a princess. Gurdial felt himself gulp down air as his heart began to race in his chest.
    â€˜You’re late!’ she teased. ‘I thought I would have to find myself another boy.’
    Gurdial smiled warmly. He knew that she was teasing, but even so, hearing her talk of another boy stabbed at his insides.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ she asked, seeing beyond his smile.
    â€˜It’s nothing,’ he told her. ‘Just me being foolish. I cannot even joke about you being with another . . .’
    Sohni grinned. ‘You are so silly sometimes,’ she scolded playfully. ‘How could I ever meet anyone as kind and considerate as you?’
    Gurdial shrugged. ‘I am just a simple man,’ he replied. ‘And you are the most beautiful girl in the whole of the Punjab. Every man who looks at you wants you. You could have anyone you wish.’
    Sohni closed her eyes. ‘And I wish,’ she told him, ‘I wish for a slightly silly yet remarkably loyal and utterly handsome boy from the Khalsa Orphanage.’
    She opened her eyes again. ‘Do you know anyone who fits that description?’
    Gurdial took her hand and squeezed it tight. ‘You are so kind to me. But what if you can’t have me?’
    Sohni frowned. ‘Then I will live my life as a spinster!’ she insisted. ‘It’s you or no one.’
    Gurdial felt a warm shiver work its way down his spine. He took her other hand and pulled her towardshim. Her scent, a dreamy collision of lavender and vanilla, sent powerful urges through his body. He held her