‘So this is perfect timing for a grand reopening,’ Sonya said.
He smiled. ‘I think you’re right.’
Along with getting the shop ready, Sonya tended to the cottage. Azam and Kiri both told her they didn’t keep such high standards, that she didn’t need to clean so rigorously every day, but Sonya had a routine, and she liked to keep with it.
Unfortunately, she didn’t realize just how hard she’d been pushing herself until a few mornings later. She knew immediately that she was ill.
She couldn’t even get up to tell the others, and her voice was hardly a scratch. Around noon, when she still hadn’t left her room, there was a knock on her door.
‘Sonya?’ Azam’s voice came from the other side of the door. ‘I just wanted to see if you were alright.’
‘Come in,’ she croaked, and the door immediately opened.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, face alarmed.
He came closer, and she must have looked like a sight, for his face fell. ‘Sonya, are you ill?’ he asked, touching the back of his hand to her forehead. His fingers felt freezing. He sucked in a breath at her temperature.
‘I’m only a little sick,’ she said, trying to sit up. She could feel sweat on her neck and back, but she was cold, her toes like icicles.
‘No, don’t,’ he said, hands on her shoulders. ‘You need to rest. I’ll be right back.’
He disappeared and she heard the sound of quick footsteps running down the stairs, then returning a few moments later. He entered her room with a jug of water and a bowl of fruit. He poured her a glass, then held it for her to drink. ‘Here,’ he said.
After she drank the water, he disappeared again, this time to go to his room. He returned with two blankets, piling them over her. ‘You’re shivering,’ he said, frowning. He dashed out again, then came back with two more pillows.
He was fussing. It would have been comical if he didn’t look so genuinely aggrieved.
‘Azam,’ she said, as he made to dash out again. He stopped, immediately coming to her side, kneeling beside her bed. She felt the strange urge to touch his face.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What do you need?’
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Stop worrying.’
He clenched his jaw. ‘But how can I?’ he asked. ‘This is all my fault.’
‘It isn’t,’ she tried to argue, but she was so tired. Her eyelids drooped.
‘Shh,’ he said, and she closed her eyes. ‘Go back to sleep.’
When she woke some time later, he was sitting on a chair beside her bed, holding a steaming bowl in one hand, while the other was gentle on her arm.
‘I hate to wake you, but you should eat.’ He helped her sit up, then offered her the bowl. Sonya looked down at the mushy rice and lentil dish; it was tinged yellow from turmeric.
‘It’s khichdi,’ he told her. ‘Mama used to make it for me when I was sick.’
He waited, and she lifted a spoonful to her mouth, swallowing. It was lumpy and entirely flavorless. ‘Is this supposed to make me feel better?’ she asked.
He laughed. ‘I never liked it much, either,’ he admitted. He sat back in the chair, running a hand through his hair. His shirt was undone at the throat, his waistcoat unbuttoned. His hair was a mess, as if he had run his hands through it many times.
He sighed, leaning forward. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Sonya,’ he said. ‘We’ve been working you too hard, you’ve been doing too much, and now you’ve fallen ill, and—’
‘No, it’s okay,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Really. I’m just a bit tired, but that’s only because my health has always been delicate. I’ve enjoyed working; it’s satisfying.’
‘Even so.’ He frowned, then looked down at her plate. ‘Please eat.’ He had noticed she hadn’t taken in another spoonful.
‘I’ll try and eat a bit,’ she said, but she couldn’t get through much. She set it aside, and he tsked.
Luckily, she was saved by Kiri entering then, bringing with her a warm glass of honey-milk. ‘Up,’ she said to Azam, and he got up from the chair, though he still hovered by the bed. Kiri inspected Sonya, checking her over.
