She was dreaming and tears were on her cheeks as she cried out, ‘Mama, please don’t leave us. Papa, why must she die? I want Mama, I want my mother…’ ‘Your mother is dying of a fever. Her heart is not strong enough to fight it. You should blame me, child. I should never have brought you both out here to this dreadful climate. It is my fault, but you shall not fall victim to this accursed place, as she did. I shall take you home to your aunt.’ ‘Mama…please don’t leave us. Mama…’ ‘Hush, memsahib,’ a soft voice said and gentle hands stroked her brow. ‘You are ill, but you will be better soon.’ ‘Mama is dying…’ Roxanne’s eyes flicked opened and she saw a face, the face of her nurse. The Indian woman was kind and loving and she was comforted. ‘Mama is so ill.’ ‘That was long ago, little one. Rest now and when you wake you will be well again.’ Roxanne closed her eyes as the soft hands stroked her forehead and she smelled the exotic perfume of flowers and spices.
