Mumbai · The Cartographer's Daughter · Pulse Beat
She went, because she wanted to see his face. The offices of Marlow and Krish occupied two floors of a glass building in Nariman Point, with a view of the sea that cost more than her father had…
She went, because she wanted to see his face.
The offices of Marlow and Krish occupied two floors of a glass building in Nariman Point, with a view of the sea that cost more than her father had earned in a decade. Mr Krish was a tall, handsome man in his fifties with a silver watch and a voice made for reassurance. He gave her coffee in a bone-china cup.
"Your father was a great chartmaker. I'm so sorry. Now. About Maravanthe."
"It's unfinished," said Isha.
"So I hear." He smiled. "A pity. We are building a deep-water terminal there. Eight hundred crore. It will bring four thousand jobs to the coast. The chart is the last thing we need to certify the approach."
"Certify it as safe?"
"Naturally."
"And if it isn't safe?"
His smile did not move. "My dear Miss Varma. The sea has been charted since the sixteenth century. Of course it's safe." He leaned forward. "Name a price for his working papers."
She looked at the sea through the glass, calm and enormous, and said, "I'll think about it."