tentative knock on the door heralded the arrival of Eric, the Lycander staff member who had been dispatched to her apartment the previous night.
‘Good morning, Eric, and thank you again for getting my things. I really appreciate it.’
‘You’re very welcome, ma’am. The Prince is ready.’
She followed Eric through the opulence of the hotel, with its gold and white theme, along plush carpet and past gilded walls, through the marble lobby, past luscious plants and spectacular flower arrangements and outside to the limo. There Frederick awaited her, leant against the hood of the car, dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, his blond hair still a touch spiked with damp, as if he’d grabbed a shower on the run.
‘A limo? Isn’t that a touch ostentatious?’
The flippant comment made to mask her catch of breath, the thump of her heart. ‘I promised the children a limo after my last visit—they were most disappointed when I turned up in a taxi.’
He held the door for her and she slid inside, the air-conditioned interior a welcome relief against the humidity, with its suggestion of imminent monsoon rain.
‘They are amazing kids—they make you feel...humble.’
Sunita nodded. ‘I read up on the charity last night. The whole set-up sounds awesome and its achievements are phenomenal. I love the simplicity of the idea—using open spaces as classrooms—and I admire the dedication of the volunteers. I’ll do all I can to raise the profile and raise funds. Today and in the future.’
‘Thank you. Axel helped set up the charity and donated huge sums after someone wrote to him with the idea and it caught his imagination. I wish...’
‘You wish what?’ The wistfulness in his voice touched her.
‘I wish he’d told me about it.’
‘People don’t always like to talk about their charitable activity.’ She frowned. ‘But in this case surely he must have been pretty public about it, because his profile would have raised awareness.’
‘It didn’t work like that. My father was unpredictable about certain issues—he may not have approved of Axel’s involvement. So Axel kept it low-key. Anonymous, in fact. I only found out after his death because someone from the charity wrote with their condolences and their thanks for all he had done. I decided to take over and make it a more high-profile role.’
‘Didn’t your father mind?’
Frederick shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He and I weren’t close.’ His tone forbade further questions. ‘Anyway, in the past two years the number of schools has increased three-fold and I’ve hired an excellent administrator—she isn’t a volunteer, because she can’t afford to be, but she is worth every penny. The schools are makeshift, but that has saved money and I think it makes them more accessible.’
His face was lit with enthusiasm and there was no doubting his sincerity. Any reservations she’d harboured that this was simply a publicity stunt designed to show that Frederick had a charitable side began to fall away.
This continued when they arrived at the school and a veritable flock of children hurtled towards the car.
He exhibited patience, good humour and common sense; he allowed them to feel and touch the car, and then promised they could examine the interior after their lessons—as long as their teacher agreed.
A smiling woman dressed in a forest-green and blue salwar kameez came forward and within minutes children of differing ages and sizes were seated in the pavilion area and the lesson commenced.
Sunita marvelled at the children’s concentration and the delight they exuded—despite the open-air arena, and all the distractions on offer, they were absorbed in their tasks, clearly revelling in the opportunity to learn.
‘Would you like to go and look at their work?’ the teacher offered, and soon Sunita was seated next to a group of chattering children, all of whom thrust their notebooks towards her, emanating so much pride in their achievements that flipped her heart.
She glanced at Frederick and her heart did another turn. Standing against a backdrop of palm trees and lush monsoon greenery, he was performing a series of magic tricks that held the children spellbound. He produced coins from ears and cards from thin air, bringing gasps of wonder and giggles of joy.
Finally, after the promised exploration of the limo, the children dispersed—many of them off to work—and after a long conversation with the teacher Frederick and Sunita returned to the car for their journey back to the hotel.
‘Next time I’ll take Amil,’ Sunita said. ‘I want him to meet those kids, to grow up with an understanding of the real world.’
‘Agreed.’
The word reminded Sunita that from now on Frederick would have a say in her parenting decisions, but right now that didn’t seem to matter. This was a topic they agreed on.
‘There’s such a lesson to be learnt there—those children want to learn, and it doesn’t matter to them if they have computers or science labs or technology. They find joy in learning, and that’s awesome as well as humbling.’
‘All of this is humbling.’
He turned to look out of the window, gesturing to the crowded Mumbai streets, and Sunita understood what that movement of his hand had encompassed—the poverty that was rife, embodied by the beggars who surged to the limo windows whenever the car slowed, hands outstretched, entreaty on their faces. But it was more than that – you could see the spectrum of humanity, so many individuals each and every one with their own dreams and worries.
‘You really care. This isn’t all a publicity stunt...part of your new image.’
‘This is about a continuation of Axel’s work—no more, no less. Don’t paint me as a good person, Sunita. If it weren’t for Axel I would never have given this so much as a thought.’
The harshness of his voice shocked her, jolted her backwards on the seat with its intensity. ‘Perhaps, but you were hardly duty-bound to take over—or to come out here and interact with those children like that.’ She couldn’t help it. ‘Axel didn’t do that, did he?’
‘Axel couldn’t do that—he needed to be the heir my father wanted him to be.’
With that he pulled his phone out of his pocket in a clear indication that the subject was well and truly closed.
Sunita frowned, fighting the urge to remove the phone from his grasp and resume their conversation, to make him see that he was wrong—in this instance he was a good person.
Back off, Sunita.
Right now she needed to remain focused on whether or not she wanted to marry this man—and what the consequences of her decision would be for Amil. And in that vein she needed to look ahead to the photo call, which meant an assessment of the recent press coverage. So she pulled her own phone out of her pocket.
A few minutes later he returned the mobile to his pocket.
‘OK. We’ll fly to Goa late afternoon, after the photo call and the trip to Hanging Gardens. As you requested I’ve sorted
