“Which was?”

  “That there would never be a diamond mined at Golconda until the Eye of Kali was returned.”

  Midge’s seat squeaked as he sat forward.

  “And has there been?”

  “Not one.” His voice had sunk and when Isabella looked at him he seemed shrunken.

  “No diamonds at all?”

  Colonel Stone looked at her without really seeing her. “No.” He dragged his eyes back to Midge and then smiled. “But all that is about to change.”

  The diamond caught the light of the lantern on the table next to Colonel Stone and reflected it back into the his face.

  “So is that the Eye of Kali?” asked Isabella, breathless at the thought of having handled something so priceless.

  The man nodded. “I’m bringing it home.”

  “Colonel Stone is Governor of Golconda.” The other man’s words were slurred.

  “But sir.” Midge was pretending not to see Mrs Rodriguez gesturing towards the door. “Do you really believe that story?”

  Colonel Stone was twirling the diamond in and out of his fingers.

  “I have no choice. I’ve spent my life trying to find this diamond. Can’t lose faith now.” His mouth was a steely line.

  “Come along, you two,” said Mrs Rodriguez, and Colonel Stone’s eyes refocused.

  “Yes, yes. Of course. You children must go to bed.”

  He tucked the diamond into his breast pocket and it was as if all the light left the room.

  Chapter Three

  An Unexpected Reunion

  “So, your ayah, did you actually see her making a love potion?”

  Eloise’s fair eyebrows were raised and she pulled her blue parasol down over her broad-brimmed straw hat. The open carriage snaked back and forth as the driver navigated the rutted road from the port district into the city. Livia and Rose sat on the other side of the carriage with their parasols rammed down on their heads to stop the fierce sunlight touching their skin. From a distance, Isabella thought, they must have looked like four mushrooms.

  Isabella felt three pairs of eyes on her and she shrank a little under their friendly gaze. The age gap between them felt like much more than just two years.

  “Um. Abhaya lived next door to us. When she could, she would see patients after breakfast. I helped her most days.”

  “Didn’t you have to go to the schoolroom?” Rose’s voice was jealous.

  “Yes. I didn’t like it, though.”

  “So Abhaya let you off?”

  Isabella shrugged. “Well, it’s just she knew I’d only go riding or something, so she thought it was better I was learning with her, than not learning in class. But I had to go when my father was at home,” Isabella said, hoping this made her childhood sound a little less out of the ordinary.

  “I think that sounds just marvellous,” said Livia. “I would love to have been able to do that. Tell us quickly, before Mama’s carriage catches us up.”

  All three leaned forward with a rustle of starched petticoats.

  Isabella sat up. “I only saw Abhaya make it once. There was a girl from the village who was very much in love with one of my father’s soldiers. I remember it because Abhaya tried to send me away.”

  “Why?”

  “I think she didn’t want me to see how she made the potion.”

  “Gosh, because then you’d have been able to make it yourself?” said Eloise.

  “Wasn’t it terribly complicated?” said Rose.

  “Not really. So long as I wrote everything down, I could usually make medicines turn out all right.”

  “Let her continue,” said Eloise. “So what did you do?”

  “I hid outside under the window sill,” Isabella said.

  “And what did the girl say to Abhaya?” asked Rose.

  “She asked Abhaya for a potion to ‘inflame the senses’”. There was a quiet intake of breath from Eloise. “Abhaya told the girl off at first, said she should find someone to marry who she didn’t have to drug, but the girl was very determined. She said she wouldn’t leave without it and what’s more – and this is the bit I really remember – she said she would tell everybody Abhaya was a witch if Abhaya didn’t give it to her.”

  “Well, Abhaya was, in a way,” said Rose.

  “What? Just because she made medicines from plants? What nonsense,” said Livia.

  The carriage lurched to one side and Isabella’s bag fell on the floor. Not her father’s bag, but a small pretty jewelled affair Mrs Rodriguez had lent her especially for today. Her medicine pouch rolled out and Rose picked it up.

  “Is this yours?”

  Isabella nodded. “It’s where Abhaya used to keep her medicine. It’s mine now.”

  Rose unravelled it without asking and the smell of vanilla rose from its fabric. The threads securing each pocket were frayed. “So what did she use in this love potion, then?”

  Isabella wished she could take the pouch back and tie it back up safely, but she didn’t want to appear childish.

  “It was a mixture of ginger and star anise and several others. They are both very warm spices …”

  “Well, there we go,” said Eloise, looking pleased with herself. “You can get both of those here, can’t you?”

  “Yes.” Isabella nodded.

  Eloise sat back, as if it were all settled, but Rose still sat forward.

  “What happened to the girl? Did Abhaya give her the potion?”

  “Yes, but the marriage didn’t last and the girl left the camp one night. No one ever found out where she had gone. She just disappeared.”

  “Did Abhaya put a curse on her?”

  Isabella laughed and the carriage drew to a halt beside a squat white building with minarets.

  “No, Abhaya wasn’t like that, but she knew the girl was bad news. That’s why she didn’t want to give her the love potion. She knew she wouldn’t use it properly.”

  “How did she know, though?” Rose persisted as they got down from the carriage and walked through a cloud of hookah smoke into the bazaar.

  Isabella closed her parasol. “I don’t know. I suppose she was like a witch in the way she knew things about people, often before they knew it themselves.”

  Mrs Rodriguez and Lady Denier walked towards them.

  “Now then, dear.” Isabella could hear Mrs Rodriguez reassuring Lady Denier. “They will be quite safe. Look, Moses is waiting for us. He’ll take good care of them.” Moses was one of the ship’s sailors, an African who looked as if he’d been hewn from granite. He didn’t speak but moved next to the girls. Lady Denier’s face was relieved.

  “Thank heavens for Moses,” Livia whispered. “Mama would never have let me go to the apothecary with just you and Rose. And especially not with Eloise.”

  Isabella looked up ahead at Eloise who was drawing attention to herself by tossing her yellow hair and laughing too loudly.

  “But will Moses let us go in?” whispered Isabella.

  Livia laughed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he? As long as Mama isn’t behind him watching.”

  Isabella pulled her dress up a little where it was sagging at the front and tried to rub a scuff of dirt off her black boot. In front of her, Livia, Eloise and Rose walked together, their dresses swaying like different-coloured petals of the same flower.

  What was she doing here?

  She felt she had to pinch herself. For all of the trip, she’d been hoping to make friends with someone – anyone, really, other than Midge – and now she found herself out for the day with the three most popular girls on the boat. She knew it was only because she could replicate Abhaya’s potion, but she would enjoy it while it lasted.

  Livia turned, her hair a shower of silver. She picked her way back to Isabella and took her arm.

  “Can’t have you getting lost now, can we?”

  The bustle of the bazaar wound its way around them like a golden thread, drawing them further and further into its heart. It wasn’t like the markets in London, or India for that matter, which were built and taken down every day. This was a permanent market and had been for hundreds of years, so it was like a city within a city, with its own meandering alleys and dead ends. The bazaar’s roof was covered with billowing pieces of white fabric to keep the sun at bay, and at its centre a path sloped downwards and an underground world of stalls opened up, cool in the shaded earth.

  The four girls started by looking at the pretty ivory and lace at the stalls around the market’s edge and then found the food stalls where giant fish and cow’s heads lay on slabs of marble in an effort to keep them cool. Here the stench and the flies were unbearable.

  “Let’s go down here,” said Livia, her face even paler than usual, and she hurried down into the part of the bazaar that was underground.

  “Livia, Mama said we’re not allowed down here.” Eloise’s face was anxious.

  “You’re the one who wants the love potion,” teased Livia.

  “Shhh,” hissed Eloise, throwing a look towards Moses. But Moses had stopped and was now talking to someone he knew. He threw back his giant head, laughing at a joke.

  “Now! Quick.” Like a silverfish, Livia slipped off down an alleyway leaving the girls no choice but to follow her.

  Around them it grew darker. Here the stalls were narrow, but well lit with hanging lanterns of red and green glass so their colours flickered on the walls. Many of them sold brass and silver and even gold, which lit the tunnel further with its yellow glow. It reminded Isabella of her days on the streets of London just before Christmas. How the windows of the smart houses glowed in the frozen night. How much better it was to be looking out, than looking in. Her sense of relief that those days were over had still not faded. She supposed they had made her tougher, but she didn’t like thinking about them.

  The straw under their feet had now turned to red dust and there was a strong sweet smell, not unpleasant, in the air around them. The tunnel opened up a little and Isabella could see a small sign hanging from a low post next to a stall. On it was painted a brilliant-green plant with yellow flowers; it was a tansy a popular remedy which could be used to treat a headache as well as a broken limb. Any healer would recognise it; there wasn’t a herb used more. But no goods were on display, just two pieces of fabric draped where Isabella imagined the windows would be. The doorway was open, but she could see nothing inside; no lamp lit it from within.

  “Shall we?” Eloise’s face was excited, but Rose was hesitant.

  “What are you going to ask for?” Rose’s eyes were on Isabella, as if she didn’t trust her not to make a mess of it.

  Isabella fumbled in Mrs Rodriguez’s bag.

  “I’ve got the recipe in my notebook. Hopefully they will have what I need.”

  “Just don’t make us look stupid,” snapped Rose.

  Isabella nodded, terrified their friendship would be withdrawn if she made a mistake.

  Without hesitating she walked through the dark arch into the shop.

  At once the sound became muffled, though she could hear the note of a wind chime and the bubbling of a hookah pipe. The floor had a deep-red rug over the dirt. On the left the entire wall was encased with little drawers filled with herbs. A tiny black-and-white monkey sat on the glass counter below the drawers, eating a date. On the right were shelves filled all the way to the back wall with glass bottles of different sizes and colours, each labelled clearly with graceful black writing. The back of the shop, instead of containing an office or a bed, opened out into a low-ceilinged space with wooden benches and tables. Brass lanterns hung at head height over each table, throwing the rest of the room into darkness.

  In one corner of the back room was a wooden bar where an elderly man poured a liquid into small glasses. He looked up at them, then re-stoppered the bottle and made his way out into the shop.

  “Can I help you, ladies?” His voice was rusty with age, but his English was good. His hands, which stroked the monkey, were scarred and the fingers misshapen. Isabella salaamed. She wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, but she knew Mombasa was home to many Muslims, so it seemed appropriate. The man salaamed back and she let her breath out.

  “Sir, I wondered if I might buy some rosemary and any mullein you might have?”

  The man raised his white brows.

  “Not another love potion?” He smiled and shook his head at them. “But spring has passed.”

  Isabella felt the blush start at her feet and travel upward, taking in every piece of skin she possessed. She looked down at her notebook. Behind her she could hear Eloise and Livia looking at the bottles on the far wall, but Rose hadn’t left her side.

  “Does it matter?” Rose’s voice was strident and more than a little bit rude, Isabella thought. “Our money’s good enough for you, isn’t it?”

  Isabella frowned. “Rose, I can manage, thank you.”

  The man looked at Rose through narrowed eyes.

  “I make it a point never to serve anyone I wouldn’t break bread with. It’s bad for the soul.”

  Rose fell silent.

  “Sir, I am sorry.” Isabella tried to speak again. “I think we were just a little nervous. We have not been to the bazaar before.”

  The man looked at her for a moment, then reached up and opened two of the drawers behind him.

  “There are the herbs. Do you have some alcohol and saltpetre?” Isabella shook her head and he added a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a dusty tin to her purchases.

  “Thank you.” Isabella took out Abhaya’s medicine pouch.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Rose.

  “I’m going to stock up a bit whilst I’m here.” Isabella looked across at the other two who were giggling over the smell of a particular bottle. “Is that all right?”

  Rose sniffed. “I suppose, but hurry up. We’re here for Eloise’s benefit, not yours.”

  The man came out from behind the counter.

  “Miss, why don’t you come and have some tea while your friend shops?” He led Rose over to one of the tables, where there were low wooden benches to sit on. “Here, your friends can join you.” He placed four china cups and a silver pot of fragrant tea on the table and then a plate piled high with small pistachio biscuits and Turkish delight.

  Rose sat down, her sour expression softening slightly.

  “Well, just for the moment.” Isabella watched her take a hesitant bite of a biscuit and then finish it in one mouthful.

  “Now then, show me this wonderful contraption.” The man smiled at her, showing very good teeth.

  Isabella looked blank.

  “Oh, you mean this?” She spread Abhaya’s pouch on the counter top and shooed the monkey away as he tried to force his little hands into its pockets.

  “Albert.” The man pronounced it in the French way and scooped the monkey onto his shoulder. “That is enough. Yes” – the man looked closer – “it is very clever. Did you make this yourself?”

  Isabella smiled and shook her head. “No. It was my friend’s, but she died so now I have it.”

  “So, what remedies do you need?”

  “I’ve run out of rock rose, hornbeam and oil of cloves.”

  “Ah yes.” The man reached into a drawer The next minutes were spent in pleasant discussion about the merits of one herb over another, but Isabella was aware that the girls had almost finished their tea and their movements were becoming restless.

  “There.” The man placed a group of packages with her other purchases.

  A shadow passed through the doorway behind her and entered the café area. The shopkeeper’s eyes followed it.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, handing her back her change.

  Isabella made her way over to where the girls sat at the back of the shop, but she tripped on an unseen step and the oil of cloves slipped to the ground and shattered. The smell of cloves was overpowering.

  “Oh Isabella.” Rose’s voice was rough and exasperated, but it was cut off by a great clamour from the men drinking at a shadowy table in the far corner. One stood up so quickly that he’d knocked the table over. He was a giant of a man with a patch over one eye and ragged clothes. He spoke in English.

  “How dare you. You know I would never do that.”

  One of his companions righted the table and put his hand on the man’s arm, pulling him back down onto the velvet cushions. The shopkeeper walked over to them.

  “I want no trouble here,” Isabella heard him say to the men in a low voice. “If there is, you will not be allowed to meet here again.”

  “Isabella!” Eloise’s tone was whiny. “What are we going to do now?”

  “I’ll go and get some more,” replied Isabella. But her attention was still on the shopkeeper as he stood with the men, and she took a few steps towards them. Didn’t she know them? The one with the patch and the other man, with the blue hood pulled down over his turban and his thick black beard. He saw her drawing closer and his deep-set eyes registered shock rather than surprise.

  “Isabella-bai.” The man smiled and got to his feet.

  Her heart beat faster and she felt a blush of surprise and pleasure suffuse her face.

  “Hassan Al Hassan?”

  “Yes. It is I, beneath this beard.”

  Isabella laughed. “I can’t believe it. How lovely to see you.”

  There was movement at her shoulder as Rose and Livia appeared. The other two men got to their feet, and with a rattle replaced the coffee cups they’d been holding on the table in front of them.

  “These are my companions, Joseph Mann and Arturo Coelho.”

  Arturo tipped his wide-brimmed hat at the girls, but Joseph Mann just looked at them through his one visible eye.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Isabella, stunned. “I thought you’d gone back to India a month ago.”

  Al Hassan smiled. He looked tired, his dark face thin and strained under his white turban. “I was supposed to, but I had business here, so I stopped on the way.” He darted a glance at the little Spaniard. “It’s just taken longer than I thought.”

  Arturo waved the hand holding his plumed hat at the table.

  “Won’t you senoritas join us?”

  Eloise tittered next to Isabella.

 

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