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  ‘We thought we’d be able to move out by now, but with the money I get from my job it’s not really enough,’ said Rakesh. ‘We’re looking into some help from the government for my parents.’

  ‘Not that they want to take it,’ Sulekha said.

  ‘Handouts are for poor people,’ said Rakesh’s father, who shifted in his seat on the sofa, putting his empty plate on the armrest.

  No one had the heart to remind him that they were poor people now.

  ‘It’s a little easier for you, I suppose, as you’re all working?’ Rakesh said.

  ‘It helps having more than one income. But it’s still hard,’ Pran replied.

  Rakesh took a sip of water. ‘You know some people are talking about going back.’

  ‘To Uganda?’ said Jaya.

  ‘But the news reports have said things are just as bad. There’s still a lot of fighting,’ said Vijay.

  ‘They’re leaving Asians alone though, the ones who stayed behind, like the civil servants and the other skilled workers,’ said Rakesh. ‘And there were a few more who managed to stay after expulsion, the ones who hid themselves in the smaller towns away from the cities.’

  ‘Wasn’t everyone else supposed to leave, just like us?’ said Jaya, recalling Amin’s threat of expulsion camps for any stragglers.

  ‘Somehow they managed to stay under the radar. And now there’s bigger things to worry about than a few Asians hanging around. Some of the Asian businesses that were taken over have already collapsed.’ Rakesh shrugged.

  Pran stopped eating. ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘I’ve got a cousin who stayed there, they get word out sometimes, through our relatives in Kenya.’

  ‘So they’re running businesses?’ Vijay asked.

  ‘I don’t know about that. But they’re managing to get some goods across the border, selling things on the black market. They’re getting by, perhaps better than we are.’ Rakesh and Sulekha shared a look. ‘I’m thinking about it myself.’

  ‘Returning?’ said Pran.

  ‘Just thinking about it,’ Rakesh nodded. ‘Not yet, I need to wait and see what happens out there. If things change.’

  ‘But you’d all go back?’ Asha was alarmed, they had young children to protect if nothing else.

  ‘No, just me, at first. The family could stay with my brother-in-law and I’d save up some money.’

  ‘It’s so dangerous.’ Jaya shook her head. She looked at Rakesh’s dad with concern in her eyes but he was too busy picking at the crumbs on his plate, while his mum was dozing in her chair, purring like a cat.

  ‘They’re not as worried about the Asians since we were expelled. There’s too few of us over there to be the enemy any more.’ Rakesh lowered his voice, aware that the children were still hovering around. ‘They’re even asking Bangladesh and Pakistan to send people over, doctors, engineers. People who’ve never set foot in the country before. You think they’d go there if it was so bad? Amin’s starting to realize he’s made a mistake. And anyway, it’s only a matter of time before they get rid of him, it must be. Others are always waiting in the wings.’

  ‘So what would you do?’ said Pran, mopping up the last of the chicken curry with a piece of paratha.

  ‘I need to look into it, but my cousin said I might be able to help him. He has contacts in the government too, they might be able to help me get the papers together.’

  ‘And it doesn’t bother you, even after everything that happened to us?’

  ‘Asha.’ Pran gave her a look.

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Rakesh, smiling. ‘A lot of terrible things happened there, I know. But look at the life we have now.’

  ‘But at least you’re all safe here together, beta,’ said Jaya.

  ‘Things are already different over there. People stick together, some live in the temples and gurudwaras too,’ said Rakesh. ‘And besides, the ordinary Ugandans are still there, they had no choice but to stay.’

  Jaya lowered her head. Asha guessed that she was thinking of December and his daughter.

  Rakesh glanced at the children, who had come back into the room arguing with each other about a penny they’d found somewhere in the house. ‘Anyway, enough talk of Uganda, please take some more food.’

  They finished their meal, talking about simple things, their work, their homes, sweeping away thoughts of the danger and chaos Rakesh was considering going back to, but Asha couldn’t shake it from her mind. Why was it that Rakesh’s words relit the spark that had been missing from Pran’s eyes for so long?

  Later, Asha made a start on the dishes in the kitchen. Through the window, she saw the children running up and down the long balcony, playing with skipping ropes. Sulekha brought the last of the plates into the kitchen. ‘There’s still a lot of food left over. You’ll have to take some.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll eat again for a week, I’m so full,’ Asha smiled at her. Little glossy bubbles of washing-up liquid escaped from the bottle as she poured some onto a sponge. She stood back, taking care not to get any on her red kameez, and said, ‘You really don’t mind Rakesh going back?’

  Sulekha piled up plates next to the sink and sighed. ‘I’m not sure how much say I have in the matter.’

  ‘But isn’t it better for you all to stay together?’ Asha wondered if she was going too far, pushing her like this.

  ‘I don’t know what Uganda’s going to be like, but it’s difficult enough here. Feeding and clothing everyone. But better to do that and live apart than go hungry living together.’ Sulekha paused for a moment. ‘One worry after another. The children stuck inside all winter. And those power cuts, the nights in the dark. We thought we’d left all that behind with the curfews.’

  Asha couldn’t help but feel relieved that she and Pran didn’t have children to worry about, on top of everything else. It wasn’t something they’d have to think about for quite a while. ‘But power cuts are one thing, what about the danger?’

  Sulekha shrugged her shoulders. ‘We wouldn’t take the children there until we were sure it was safe. But like Rakesh said, they seem to be leaving us Asians alone now. It’s not perfect, I know, but Amin can’t go on forever.’

  Asha looked out of the window, across the sky streaked with feathery white clouds. Things did change, of course they did, just look at her marriage with Pran, look at her life now, so far from the one she’d imagined for herself years before. But putting your life at risk? She couldn’t imagine it.

  *

  Throughout the next week, Pran seemed newly focused on life again, fixing the broken door handle in the kitchen, taking more of an interest in helping at the temple. At first, Asha daren’t ask what had caused it, in case it broke the spell. But it was clear that lunch with Rakesh had raised his spirits.

  ‘You seem better,’ said Asha, as they lay in bed one night, the light from the street lamps seeping through the curtain fabric.

  ‘Better? Didn’t know I’d been sick in the first place.’ Pran turned his head towards her.

  She thought about the best way to phrase her next question. ‘It just seemed like you were finding things a little tough? I don’t know.’

  Asha could make out the contour of his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. He paused before speaking. ‘I guess I realized I need to get on with things, we’ve wasted so much time already.’ He curled his arm under his head. ‘Things are going to be different now.’

  They fell silent, listening to the cars driving past the house. ‘I can’t believe Rakesh is thinking about going back,’ she said, hoping he’d show little interest.

  ‘He’s finding it difficult, like we all are. You’ve heard the news about home. Inflation through the roof, food shortages. They’ve woken up and realized that we weren’t the bad guys. It’s an opportunity.’

  ‘The opportunity to get killed?’ It was crazy to go back, with Amin’s thick fingers wrapped around the country’s throat, as tight as ever.

  ‘Things have changed.’


  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘I don’t know, we should think about it, though. I could try and get in through Kenya, maybe. I owe it to Papa to get our house back.’

  Asha sat up, leaning on her arm, hair trailing across her shoulders. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I need to finish what I started there.’

  ‘But Pran—’

  ‘All those times growing up, I saw the disappointment in Papa’s face. He wanted to build something but he just didn’t know how. I was turning things around before he died, I was going to give him everything he wanted. Why would I just give that up?’

  ‘But you could start again here, you’re young.’

  ‘We belong in Uganda, building my Papa’s business just like he wanted.’

  ‘But I have a life here now, a job I like. It took everything I had to start again. I won’t go back.’

  ‘Look, I know how you feel.’

  ‘You have no idea!’

  ‘I know you can’t imagine going back right now.’

  ‘I can’t imagine going back ever. Not ever.’ She tried as hard as she could to keep her voice down; her heart drummed against her chest. ‘You don’t know what it was like.’

  ‘I do know.’ Pran tried to take her hand but she batted him away. His voice was tender. ‘Asha, I do know. Vijay told me about what happened to you. The soldier.’

  She sat upright, pulling her knees to her chest. ‘He had no right to tell you.’

  ‘He thought it might help. He could see . . . He could tell things weren’t the same between us, after I arrived.’

  What had Vijay told him exactly? What did Vijay even think he’d seen? It didn’t matter now, Pran knew. And perhaps, in a way, it was a relief not to have to pretend any more, at least about that.

  ‘Those salas, disgusting men.’ Pran’s voice shook. He reached out and put his hand on her cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  She pulled away. ‘They didn’t—’ She didn’t know how to begin to explain. Anger all over again.

  ‘I’m so sorry for all of this,’ Pran whispered. ‘This isn’t what I wanted for us, any of it. I want to go back and change it all.’ He reached out again. This time, she didn’t stop him. She was so tired of the sadness wearing her down.

  She didn’t resist when he pulled her towards him. She didn’t stop herself lying down next to him. She wanted to forget the memories of the soldier, his acrid breath, his hands on her limbs; she needed to crowd it all out with new memories. And so she kissed Pran, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips, searching for the people they had once been, following the arch of his back, kissing his palms, his neck, his shoulder, searching for a single trace of the life they’d left behind.

  *

  The morning sunlight woke them both up.

  Pran gave her a sleepy smile. Asha kissed his dimples.

  ‘It’s good to have you back,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t go anywhere,’ she said, although she knew what he meant. ‘And I don’t think you should go anywhere either.’

  Pran stroked her shoulder, staring at the ceiling. ‘Uganda? It’s only something I’m thinking about.’

  ‘Well, don’t. For me. For all of us. Forget it.’ Asha rested her head on his chest. She couldn’t lose him again. She’d forgotten how good it felt to hold him, to feel the rise and fall of his breath next to her. ‘I want you to stay here, please. Stay here. Don’t forget what it was like.’

  ‘They took all they could.’

  ‘Did they, Pran? What about your life?’

  ‘Nothing’s going to happen.’

  ‘You’ve already forgotten what happened with December?’ she said, struggling to control her voice. ‘I’ve never seen you like that.’

  He turned his head. ‘Like what?’

  ‘That night the soldiers came to the house, when I came out of the bedroom. You seemed like you were in another world. Lost, I guess.’

  ‘I was in shock.’

  Asha stared at him. ‘Something was wrong.’ She thought she’d buried the memories away. It was only now, as she thought back to that evening, something unlocked inside her mind that she hadn’t been able to reach before. The look on Pran’s face that night reminded her of the first time he lied to her. ‘Did something—’

  ‘Why are you raking it all up again?’

  ‘I just—’

  ‘No!’ Pran got up and opened the door. Though he whispered, it did nothing to hide the anger in his voice. ‘No more talk about the expulsion, ever. I’ve had enough!’

  Asha stayed where she was, feeling the sheets beside her grow cold. The more she searched for the truth about what happened that night, the more confusing it seemed. Why hadn’t they hurt him when they found December hiding away? She’d seen this evasiveness before, the way he’d made her feel paranoid about the dukan. One thing was certain: if Pran wouldn’t give her the answers she was looking for, she’d find them another way.

  33

  Jaya

  Jaya turned around as Vijay shot through the kitchen door. This was his new way of arriving when he was in a hurry, running from the hallway, sliding across the plastic runner into the kitchen in his socks. He’d misjudge it one day, fly across the kitchen floor and slam into the back door, it was inevitable. Vijay straightened up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was getting longer by the month, skimming his neck and constantly looking like it had never seen a comb, never straight, even minutes after he got ready in the morning.

  She’d laid out an assortment of foods: paratha and chai for herself and Pran; Weetabix for Asha, which she ate like toast, spread with butter; fried eggs for Vijay.

  ‘I was thinking, why don’t we go for a day trip, have a picnic?’ said Jaya, taking a sip of chai. She watched Pran as he broke off a piece of paratha and scooped up some mango chutney. Though he looked tired from the many hours he was working, he also seemed more content than he had in months.

  ‘That’s a good idea, maybe next month when the weather’s warmer,’ Asha said, taking care not to get food on her clothes, though it was her own fault for wearing a blouse with huge sleeves that ballooned at the bottom like aubergines.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Vijay quietly. ‘But I might not be here then.’

  Jaya looked over at him, though he seemed to be inspecting his fried eggs intently. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m thinking of travelling, going abroad.’

  No one spoke. Vijay pretended not to have noticed and took a bite of his toast.

  Pran snorted. ‘You haven’t travelled enough? You’ve found a country that doesn’t want to throw you out – yet – and you already want to leave?’

  ‘I don’t understand, Vijay, where will you go?’ said Jaya.

  ‘I was thinking about India. You know, Papa talked about it all the time. I know more about England than the place where he was born. I’m not exactly sure yet.’

  ‘You don’t even have a plan?’ said Pran.

  ‘Where did plans get us back home?’ Asha said, shifting in her seat.

  Pran lowered his voice. ‘That’s not the same.’

  ‘You can’t leave, beta,’ said Jaya. ‘We only just got your bhai back.’

  ‘It won’t be for long, Ba.’

  ‘And where are you going to get the money from?’ Pran pushed his plate aside.

  ‘I have a bit saved up, now Frank’s paying me what I’m due at the petrol station, and I might work along the way. Besides, India’s a lot cheaper than here,’ Vijay mumbled. ‘I don’t understand why everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’

  ‘It would be nice to just run off whenever we wanted,’ Pran sneered. ‘No, you’re not going.’

  ‘It’s not up to you,’ Vijay laughed.

  ‘Don’t you realize how selfish you’re being?’ said Pran.

  ‘Selfish? You’d know, wouldn’t you?’ said Vijay. ‘All these months, I’ve been helping out. I just want to do one thing, one single thing for myself. What’s wrong with that?’<
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  ‘It’s just a shock, beta,’ said Jaya. She wasn’t sure whether her heart could take any more pain.

  ‘I know, but I’m not going anywhere just yet. I still need to save up for the ticket and everything.’

  ‘We’ve lost so much and now you’re going to go running off on some trip around the world. You can’t wait to get away from me.’ Jaya’s voice was more forceful than she’d intended.

  ‘No, it’s not that, of course it’s not,’ Vijay said, his tone gentle. ‘Might as well do this now, then I can come back, think seriously about going to university. I just want to have a little fun first, that’s all.’

  ‘Shame the rest of us don’t have time for fun,’ said Pran.

  ‘Enough, Pran.’ Jaya glared at him. The rest of breakfast was eaten quickly and in silence. Pran and Vijay got out of the kitchen as soon as they could.

  Asha helped her clear up. She must have seen the concern in Jaya’s face. ‘He’s very young, life stretching thousands of miles ahead of him,’ she said.

  ‘But he has seen how dangerous it is,’ said Jaya.

  ‘The entire world isn’t like Uganda. Even Uganda wasn’t always like that, don’t forget. Be grateful that he can see beyond all that.’

  Jaya stopped what she was doing, resting the cloth on the worktop. ‘I’ve lost enough people to last a lifetime.’

  ‘It’s not forever.’ Asha turned towards her.

  ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘Maybe it would be good for him to get away from all of us, just for a little while.’ Asha put the plates down by the sink, staring out of the window. ‘Maybe you should let him go.’

  Jaya looked at her. She knew why he wanted to go, he was so young, after all, with so much taken away from him. But could she let her family be split again?