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with us. I am hoping to get a smile from her. She doesn't even acknowledge my words.  
    "Go, go. Have fun. I know you are happy to be off, to be on your own, playing at being super spy or whatever it is you do …" She is looking at him, her amber eyes large, shimmering with anger and ... and tears. Is she angry with him? Or is she upset? Or both?  
    "Yes, I am." He grins. "Am a darn good spy too."
    Dad's enjoying this seeing her get all worked. He knows just what to say to set her off the deep end.  
    Mum places her hands on her hips and just stares at him. "How dare you?" Her cheeks redden, and she makes a sound as if she's choking. She looks around as if searching for something. Uh! Oh! I know what's coming  
      She picks up the closest thing at hand, the vase of flowers on the dining table and throws it at him. But Dad's quick too. He steps aside and at the same time, drops his suit bag and moves forward so quickly I don't even see him cross the floor to her. The next thing I know he is putting his arms around her, hugging her. She tries to punch him and he holds her hands down, holding her prisoner, and she is struggling to get free. What the—? Are they fighting? I move forward to help Mum, and then they are kissing. Like full on. Mouth-to-mouth and all.
    Huh? What's this? Are you fighting or (ugh!) kissing, you guys? Make up your mind.
    There's silence all around now. Vishal is just looking at them, mouth half open, his eyes so round I know he's never seen anyone kiss before. Unlike me.
    Then, Dad is stepping back and gently kissing her on the forehead. They just look at each other for a minute, not saying anything. Mum nods as if he's just said something to her, something I can't hear. Placing his suit bag over his shoulder, he walks over and pats Vishal on his head. "Take care of your sister."
    "I will." Vishal stands straight, his little chest puffing out with pleasure at being singled out by Dad.  
    Dad nods. He hesitates, as if about to say something else. Changing his mind, he moves away and towards the door. He stops and turns to all of us one last time. "What do you say to a soldier going off to battle?"
    "Luck!" we chorus in unison. Mum keeps quiet.  
    "Bring back my spy safely," she says, her voice calmer now.  
    Dad nods. Then a last look at us and he is gone.
    And so I move into the next stage of my life, much as I am going to spend the early years of adulthood. On my own.

PART 2: ST JAMES

TWELVE

    "St James's campus covers more than 250 acres of protected forest on the foothills of the Himalayas!" the ward mother exclaims, her voice excited.
    I've made the journey from Bombay with Singhji. His father worked for my grandfather all through the time they lived in Mussoorie. After grandpa died, Dad sold off the ancestral home … using the money to buy the spacious flat we live in at Breach Candy. Since Dad travels a lot on work and Mum can't leave Seema on her own to come see me that often, they tell me that Singhji is now my designated local guardian.  
    I drop my bags on the floor of the room that will be my home for the next five years. It's wide enough to have two beds pushed apart at opposite ends of the space. Next to each bed is a chair and table, between which is a large bookcase, with a smattering of books. I walk across and pick up one. Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda . My eyes glaze and I set it down; my eyes flick over the other one, The Hero's Journey by Joseph Campbell .
    The third is a Mills & Boon romance, showing a muscled man in a clinch with a woman whose breasts are outlined through her thin white shirt. Her face is contorted into an expression of what is meant to convey ecstasy. Seems more like agony.
    I walk to the large bay window between the beds and take in the scene. It's as if I am alone, adrift in a sea of varying shades of green. The sunlight dances off the emerald canopy which stretches all the way to the hill in the distance. It's broken in places by