Amit drained the last of his coffee. It was the quiet part of the day when the staff had an hour to go about their own business.
Some, like Paramsit Dhesi, drove over to the south side of the city to spend a little time with families. Others drifted away from the restaurant in twos or threes, chattering in a Punjabi dialect that reminded him all too clearly of the streets of Lahore.
Visions of the city came to him like snapshots: the still lakes of water reflecting sun-drenched skies at noon; the market with people constantly coming and going, its smells of ripe fruit, cattle and dust wafting in the stifling air; the train cutting through the city, its open windows full of travellers staring out at the wonders of Lahore. He remembered the family house in Gulberg, its pink washed walls and curving windows: each sill and lattice detail decorated in the style of a Mughal's palace. Then there were the clubs, his father's meetings at the Moslem League, the polo matches. But these pictures in his mind were like something he had seen in a film or a dream, not part of his own history The images of bloody bodies, his mother's scream as the Inter Services Intelligence dragged his father away, these were the stuff of nightmares, locked away in some deep, dark part of his brain, never brought out willingly for examination.
The sound of crates being delivered to the back door made Amit stir from his reverie. He was in Glasgow now, safe in the place that he was beginning to call his own.
His mouth turned up at the corners as he recalled the first time he had sat at this very table. A coffee, that was all he had asked for, but that one request had brought him so much more.
Dhesi had sat down beside him, his hand extended, the light of recognition in his eyes as Amit had spoken.
'You are an Aitchisonian!' Dhesi had exclaimed, his hand ready to shake Amit's own.
'Yes, but..
'I could tell, my brother, I could tell!' Dhesi had clasped his hand with such warmth that Amit had suddenly heard the familiar inflection in his voice. Only a person who had attended Aitchison College, Lahore's premier educational establishment, would speak in such dignified tones. But here? In this Scottish city? It was nothing short of a miracle.
'This is nothing short of a miracle,' he remembered Dhesi's words and how he had grinned as if he had been able to read the stranger's thoughts.
And, for each of them it was just that. Dhesi had sat for the best part of that quiet hour, lamenting the problem he faced with his establishment. A partner who was not to be trusted any longer.
Dhesi's desire to buy the man out. 'But what can I do?' he had shrugged, his upturned hands expressing his helplessness. 'I don't have the sum of money needed to send the rascal packing and the banks are simply unwilling to lend at this time of recession.'
By the end of that hour, Amit and Dhesi had not just clasped their hands together in recognition of their joint past, but had shaken on a deal that would mean much to them both. Amit would buy out the other partner and invest in this business (once he had examined the books. Of murve, Dhesi had said hurriedly, that was understood.) And for Amit it had signalled a new beginning. He had a place of business now, a partnership in a thriving restaurant and a friend upon whom he could rely.
Money had not been a problem. The Hundi, the fixer, had arranged everything just as he had promised. Trust of a different sort had been all important, of course, but Amit had been in a situation where even had he been robbed blind by the go-between, he would have given the man his hefty commission. Nonetheless his funds had been transferred to an account in a Glasgow bank and to his surprise they had not been reduced by more than the agreed fee. Honour was still intact, even in this cold, Western land.
His rental flat was comfortable but it was time now to make another sort of investment. A place of his own, here in Glasgow's West End.
Amit thought of the woman with the long red hair. Marianne. If he could run his fingers through those silken tresses… touch her in a way that brought a smile to her lips…
He dismissed the sudden fantasy. She had been useful to him, wasn't that all? And Amit knew the time was approaching when his friends would expect him to be rid of her for good.