When the explosion took place, Bankim was at the other end of the corridor, looking through a pile of documents he was preparing to take to Carter for his signature. The shock wave knocked him down; when he looked up through the cloud of smoke that filled the corridor, he saw that the door of the headmaster’s office had been blown off its hinges and smashed against the wall. Bankim jumped up and ran towards the source of the explosion, but as he approached he saw a black silhouette emerge, wreathed in flames. It spread its dark cloak and swooped down the corridor like a huge bat, moving at incredible speed, before it disappeared leaving behind it a trail of ash and with a sound that reminded Bankim of the furious hiss of a cobra.
Bankim found Carter lying on the floor inside the office. His face was covered in burns and his clothes were smouldering. Bankim crouched beside his mentor and tried to sit him up. The headmaster’s hands were shaking and Bankim noticed with relief that he was still breathing, albeit with difficulty. Bankim shouted for help and soon the faces of some of the boys appeared round the doorway. Ben, Ian and Seth helped him lift Carter off the floor, while the others moved rubble out of the way and prepared a space in the corridor.
‘What the hell happened?’ asked Ben.
Bankim shook his head, unable to answer, clearly still in shock. Between them they managed to carry the wounded man into the corridor while Vendela, her face as white as porcelain and a desperate look in her eyes, ran to alert the nearest hospital.
Gradually the remaining members of St Patrick’s began to
appear. Nobody understood what had caused the blast and they did not recognise the body that lay scorched on the floor. Ian and Roshan formed a cordon round Mr Carter and told everyone who approached that they needed to keep the way clear.
The wait seemed infinite.
THE AMBULANCE FROM CALCUTTA General Hospital seemed to take for ever to negotiate the labyrinth of city streets and reach St Patrick’s. For another half an hour everyone waited restlessly, but just as they were beginning to give up hope, one of the doctors from the medical team came over to Bankim and the group of friends while three other medics continued to assist the victim.
When they saw the doctor approaching, they all crowded round him anxiously. He was a young man with red hair and intense eyes, and seemed decidedly competent. Or maybe they just hoped, and prayed, he would be.
‘Mr Carter has suffered serious burns and there seem to be a few broken bones, but he’s out of danger. What worries me most now are his eyes. We can’t guarantee that he’ll recover his eyesight completely, although it’s still too early to know for certain. He’ll have to be taken to the hospital so that we can sedate him properly before treating his wounds. He’ll certainly have to undergo surgery. I need someone who can authorise his admission papers.’
‘Vendela can do that,’ said Bankim.
The doctor nodded.
‘Good. There’s something else. Which of you is Ben?’
They all stared at him in surprise. Ben looked up, confused.
‘I’m Ben,’ he replied. ‘Why?’
‘He wants to speak to you,’ said the doctor, his tone implying that he’d tried to dissuade Carter and that he disapproved of his request.
Ben nodded and hurried off towards the ambulance.
‘Just one minute,’ warned the doctor. ‘Not a second longer.’
BEN WENT OVER TO the stretcher on which Thomas Carter was lying and tried to smile reassuringly, but when he saw the state the headmaster was in he felt his stomach shrink and the words just wouldn’t come to his lips. One of the doctors standing behind him gave him a nudge. Ben took a deep breath and nodded.
‘Hello, Mr Carter. It’s Ben.’ He wondered whether Mr Carter could hear him.
The wounded man tilted his head slightly and raised a trembling hand. Ben took it and pressed it gently.
‘Tell that man to leave us alone,’ Carter groaned, his eyes still shut.
The doctor gave Ben a look and waited a few seconds before leaving.
‘The doctors say you’re going to get better …’ said Ben. Carter shook his head.
‘Not now, Ben.’ Each word seemed to require a titanic effort. ‘You must listen to me carefully and not interrupt. Understood?’
Ben nodded. ‘I’m listening, sir.’
Carter squeezed his hand.
‘There’s a man who is looking for you and wants to kill you, Ben. A murderer,’ Carter said, struggling to articulate his words. ‘You must believe me. This man calls himself Jawahal and he seems to think you have some connection to his past. I don’t know why he’s looking for you but I do know he’s dangerous. What he’s done to me is only a shadow of what he’s capable of. You must speak to Aryami Bose, the woman who came to the orphanage yesterday. Tell her what I’ve told you, explain what has happened. She tried to warn me, but I didn’t take her seriously. Don’t make the same mistake. Find her and talk to her. Tell her Jawahal was here. She’ll tell you what to do.’
The burnt lips of Thomas Carter closed once more and Ben felt as if the whole world was collapsing around him. What the head of St Patrick’s had confided in him seemed utterly unreal. The shock of the explosion had obviously affected Carter’s reasoning, making him imagine some kind of conspiracy and a whole host of other improbable dangers. At that moment Ben couldn’t contemplate any other explanation, especially in view of what he had dreamed the night before. Imprisoned in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the ambulance, with its cold stench of ether, he wondered for a split second whether the inhabitants of St Patrick’s were all beginning to lose their minds, himself included.
‘Did you hear me, Ben?’ Carter insisted, his voice failing. ‘Have you understood what I said?’