Page 36 of In Just a Year
“Like a Lord?”
“Exactly. My father owns the land as far as you can see. It’s ruled by your government, but my father manages it.”
“And your title is Lady?”
She tilted her head down and curtsied. “As his daughter, I’m the Thakurain but my mother is a Thakurain, too, you see.BintRavi means I’m his daughter, Ravi’s daughter. My given name is Padmavati.”
“Padmati”—Ben inclined his head—”it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She giggled. “Padmavati.”
“Padmati, that’s what I said.”
She burst into contagious laughter, and Ben felt himself grinning like the green boy he was. Out of place, far from home, captivated by the oriental beauty before him, he was unsure what to do or say. She was the first friendly face he’d seen besides Greg’s and he felt more grateful for her smile than he ought.
“Call me Vati, all my friends do.”
“Thank you, Vati. I’m Ben.”
“Just Ben?”
“Benjamin Klonimus ben Pavel.”
“Your name isBen-Ben?” She tilted her head.
“That’s a coincidence.BenPavel denotes that I’m Pavel’s son. Ben is also short for Benjamin, my given name.”
“And what’s the other part of your name? The title?”
“No.” Ben chuckled. “We’re Jewish and that’s our family name. My parents and my brothers are all Klonimus and we each have a name to distinguish us.”
“And your mother?”
“She’s Chawa Klonimus.”
“I see. Lady Chawa?”
“No, Jews don’t carry titles in England. Nor anywhere else as far I know. Just Chawa Klonimus.”
“Are you the Jew who came with Baron Stone?”
“At your service.” Ben bowed, and the little monkey adjusted his grip on Ben’s ear.
“But Baron Stone said you’re part of a dynasty and jeweler to the Crown.”
Ben inhaled. The dynasty was so far away. “Yes.”
“How?”
“Vati!” A muffled voice came from the hall. “Vati?”
“Oh no, my mother.” She picked the little monkey off Ben’s shoulder and put him back in the basket. “Let’s go.”
She opened the door and Ben saw a woman turn the corner toward the palace. She looked almost like Vati but with streaks of grey in her long hair.
“Into the garden.” Vati led the way in the direction opposite her mother’s and Ben followed.
They crossed the corridor and went straight into the thick palm garden abutting the courtyard, home to a troop of macaques, their golden-brown fur glistening in the sun as they scampered around, their playful antics a delightful sight. Their calls echoed through the trees, a mix of high-pitched squeals and throaty grunts, a symphony of wild sounds that added to the exotic charm of the place.
