They brought to the place an air of gloom and depression such as it had not seen before. Soon afterwards Mrs Daya their neighbour reported to Mother: ‘They come with a secret to hide.’ Each morning Mrs Daya descended on the street from the second floor, and did her rounds of the stores, while waiting for the fruit and vegetable sellers to arrive. She brought the freshest news and gossip. But the Pereras were Goans and their affairs of little interest to the rest of us. They would have passed through the neighbourhood without much notice, but for Alzira. She walked into the store late one afternoon – school over and the family noisily crowding the customer space – holding a piece of printed material with a gleaming, threaded needle sticking out from it. With the other hand she moved aside a clutch of belts hanging from the doorway. A tall ambling girl with a large mouth and short, straight hair, her long faded dress hanging loosely on her. She was grinning, a little shyly. ‘How are you, Mama?’ she said.
