Free Golden Girl by Cathy Hopkins Page B

met.
    ‘Kunal and Prasad,’ she said as we made our way down a dark wooden corridor. ‘Prasad’s the one I like and I think he likes me too.’
    ‘Long distance love affair? Is that a good idea?’ asked Pia.
    ‘They’re both at school in England, back here for the holidays,’ she replied. ‘Yay . . . Whoa! Wow. Get a load of this!’ She stopped and stared around the room
we’d just entered. It was full of the most beautiful glassware: bowls, decanters, glasses and mirrors but not just those, there was actual furniture chiselled from crystal: sofas, a bed, a
table, a throne and foot-stool, a dressing table.
    ‘They’re like exquisite ice sculptures,’ I said. ‘Imagine the work that went into making them.’ Some of the pieces were carved in pale green glass, some in a
delicate translucent pink. It was like walking into the white witch’s palace in Narnia but this wasn’t fantasy, it was reality. As we continued to explore room after room full of glass
artefacts, chandeliers and furniture, we were joined by Ramesh who had come with us.
    ‘In these rooms is the largest private collection of crystal in the world,’ said Ramesh, as we paused to look at a vast glass dining table laid with a dinner service for what looked
like dozens of guests.
    ‘How old is it?’ asked Pia.
    ‘Over one hundred years,’ Ramesh replied. ‘It was ordered from the F and C Osler company in Birmingham, England by Maharaja Sajjan Singh who began his reign in 1874 but sadly
died ten years later. He never got to see it completed.’
    ‘None of it?’ I asked.
    Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam, and neither did anyone else. On its arrival in India, it was immediately packed away in boxes underground.’
    I looked from JJ to Pia and Alisha. ‘Forgotten,’ I said, in disbelief. ‘But it must be priceless.’
    ‘Yes, madam. It only came to light in recent years and then the head of the Mewar royal family, Shriji Arvind Singh Mewar, decided that this great treasure should be shared with the world
and this gallery was opened in 1994.’
    ‘Wow,’ said Pia as we looked at a glass wardrobe in one room. ‘Imagine finding treasure like this in your basement! How amazing to think this stuff was just packed away in a
cellar. It’s so beautiful. Each piece is a work of art.’
    ‘This whole place is,’ I added.
    ‘Can you buy any of it?’ asked Alisha.
    Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam.’
    ‘Shame,’ said Alisha. ‘I’d love to have that pale pink dressing table.’
    ‘Money can’t buy everything, sis,’ said JJ. ‘It’s a real honour for the film crew to be allowed to film here.’
    ‘It is indeed,’ said Ramesh. ‘And this evening, I believe they will be shooting a scene in the Darbar Hall below.’
    We made our way out of the final gallery back into the corridor, from where we could see through scalloped arches into a hall below.
    ‘These would have been the viewing galleries for the royal ladies,’ said JJ. ‘Isn’t that right, Ramesh?’
    Ramesh nodded. ‘You are correct, sir. Such places are to be found in palaces all over India, often with a lattice screen or silk curtains so the women could stand and observe what was
happening in court but not be seen.’
    ‘Cool,’ said Alisha. ‘A chance to spy on the guys. I like it.’
    For a moment, I imagined myself as a princess hundreds of years ago, gazing down at the colourful spectacle in the hall. Chandeliers shaped like giant dewdrops hung from the high ceiling, while
portraits, presumably of previous rulers of Udaipur, lined the walls, as well as a display of ancient swords and other weapons.
    ‘It looks like it hasn’t changed for centuries,’ I said as, in my mind, bejewelled princes lounged about on silk cushions, drinking tea or reading by the light of one of the
many antique lamps.
    ‘Apart from all the film equipment,’ said JJ.
    I followed his gaze and saw that dozens of silver metal boxes of various sizes were stacked on one