Free The Year of the Runaways by Sunjeev Sahota

to move their holy backsides out of the way. ‘I’ve got work, bhanchod!’
    ‘Let there be no doubt,’ the speaker went on, as if someone had turned up the volume. ‘We will fight to keep our country pure. We will shed blood. We will not back down. Let’s put it even more plainly: we will kill.’ The crowd quietened a little. The speaker seemed pleased by this. ‘There will be revenge for the murder of our brothers by the Maoists. There will be a purge. No one can stop it. And it will start at the beginning of Navratri. In respect for our murdered brothers and sisters, on the first day of Navratri we will allow none of the impure to work in the city or be seen about the city. It will be a day for the pure only. So the pure can enjoy the parks and the streets as Ishvar intended. Anyone going against us will be exterminated.’
    Anger flamed inside Tochi, and Radhika Madam was tapping his shoulder, urgently. ‘Please, let’s go. This is too awful.’
    On his way home he stopped at the village of Jannat. He knew it was one of the houses behind the Hanuman mandir, but it took a schoolboy scoffing toffees on the temple steps to point it out. Tochi knocked and a voice – an old man’s voice – asked who he was. Inside, he took a seat on the low stringy charpoy, pulled down from where it stood against the wall. The house was dark save for the candles and their intimate light. There were just the two rooms, with an empty doorway between them. Tochi could see the mirror in the second room and reflected in the mirror was a woman lying under a blanket. At her side was Susheel, hands on his knees. The old man was busy apologizing for asking Tochi who he was, but there was so much trouble about these days, what with these Sena logh. Only two days ago he’d heard they’d killed a man because he’d refused to take part in their protection racket.
    ‘It’ll pass,’ Tochi said.
    ‘This is your first time to Jannat?’
    ‘I came three months ago. Looking for work.’
    ‘Did you speak to the thakur?’
    Tochi said he did.
    ‘He’s getting old. Forgetful. But a good master. He gives us no difficulty.’
    ‘The land is good here. Rich.’
    ‘We work hard on it. Though not hard enough, it seems. I like your auto.’ His lips thinned into a sly smile, his pinched little face made even more so by the ratty white turban.
    Susheel came forward to shake Tochi’s hand and pass him a cup of tea. His hair was parted to the side, the usual quiff flattened down. Despite the cockiness at work, he seemed like a caring boy. A good match.
    ‘You know my son,’ the old man said.
    Tochi nodded. ‘Did you have a date in mind, uncleji?’
    ‘When would suit you?’
    Tochi understood the inference. When would he be in a position to fulfill the dowry? ‘I’ll speak to my parents. I just wanted to ask if you had a date in mind. Or if you had any other demands.’
    The father shook his head. ‘I’m sorry if we’re asking for a lot. We’re not greedy people. But he’s my only son. You understand?’
    Tochi said he did.
    ‘And his mother is not well. But I promise you that, if you perform your duty, we will perform ours and your sister will be treated well here. You’ll have nothing to worry about.’
    Tochi shook hands with them both and folded back out of the doorway. He was about to drive off when Susheel appeared at his side.
    ‘Bhaji, I wanted to say I’m sorry if my father offended you. He doesn’t mean to, I promise.’
    Tochi nodded.
    ‘And would you please . . . ?’ Tentatively, smiling embarrassedly, Susheel held up an envelope.
    He’d only been home a few minutes when his sister arrived with his food.
    ‘Quick today,’ he said. He made a plinth of his knees and began mixing the white butter into his sabzi. Palvinder stood there holding his glass of water.
    ‘You can put it down.’
    She did. Still she stood there.
    ‘You going to stay there all night?’
    ‘Uff, just give it to me.’
    He gave her the letter,