Free Truth Lake by Shakuntala Banaji Page B

brother is a very intelligent boy, sir,' a proud grin, 'but most people don't understand that. He speaks English more than any of us so he was the main one to talk to the foreigners.' Plural?  Karmel was about to speak but Chand hadn't finished.
    'If you don't mind, sir, I'll go and check on him. He's always been so nervous and mother tells me to keep an eye on him. He sees things, the little one does.' 
    Rising, the boy sped off after his brother clicking his tongue for the goats; abandoning Karmel with his curiosity and the iridescent shimmer of the lake.
    He rubbed a hand across his face, touching the lump on his neck and then his stubble. Now he had a lead. Chand had confirmed the presence of at least one foreign tourist in the village.
    Perhaps the man had fallen accidentally and injured himself. Distressing to have lain dying without being able to call for help, but still, less disturbing than a murder in the mountains with all the diplomatic frenzy that would cause now that it was public knowledge or at least now that foreigners knew of it. He felt ashamed of thinking so cynically but Hàrélal had taught him well and he could not forget all his mentor's precepts.
                 
    Waking that morning he had been for a few seconds utterly content, too comfortable to rise. Light was shining through a low doorway and he no longer felt either tired or cold. Despite the fact that the floor smelt of dung and his clothes were permeated by an aroma of smoke, he felt secure in a way that he had not done since leaving Delhi. Gratitude to his hostess had surged through him.
    The previous evening when he was packing up to go out and find a place to pitch his tent she had insisted on letting him stay in her space; had, in fact, vacated the cabin to go and stay with her sister, allowing him and her boys to chat or sleep as they pleased.  The older of the two boys, who was sullen and unwelcoming, had left soon after his mother and, as far as Karmel could tell, had not returned all night; the younger one had chatted to him about the forest, the flowers, the lichen which he collected and sold for cash; and the way he intended to finish school in order to leave the village and get a job nearer to the plains.
    Karmel fell asleep thinking about wooden sculptures and drooping flowers on local trees. 
    When Thahéra and her daughter Maya had entered they'd found Karmel shaving in a corner, using a polished plate as a mirror. He apologised to them for having slept so late and kept them from their chores but they laughed, explaining that they had already cooked and had been in and out of the cabin and up beyond the lake for several hours gathering medicinal plants for drying before the rains began so that they could later be sold in towns below.
    In the morning sunlight, everything in Saahitaal had seemed fresh, aromatic and alluring. Before they could ask him his plans for the day, Karmel had announced his decision to stay in the village a while longer and forestalled their surprise by explaining that he would be testing the water-retention of the soil around the lake or doing other tests for mineral residues amongst the trees.
                  'We will arrange a place for you to stay in the night', Thahéra had offered, smiling at what she had come to recognise as his enthusiasm. He for his part felt an odd emptiness at the base of his belly each time their eyes met.
    Up at the lake he'd spotted Chand and Sonu and all the tension of his arrival was obliterated from his mind.
    He decided that he must find the corpse of Sara's story and wrap up this investigation before his boss sent out a search party. Having heard the boys talk, he thought he would attempt to descend by a different route, going to Bhukta or to Charmoli in the west; he knew that it would be a dangerous climb down, much steeper than the route by which he'd arrived, but cars could be hired at Bhukta or so Thahéra's younger son had told him and he was