For one fleeting moment I pictured myself back in India. I immediately stopped myself daydreaming about those happy times and jerked my thoughts back to the here and now. The guards were getting restive and I sensed we must be very near something significant. My life would depend on focus from this point on.
Then I heard a low murmur at first, barely audible over the horses’ hooves, gradually building to the dull roar of an immense crowd. It meant we were at our destination. The coach pulled up abruptly and the guards either side of me bundled me out. My helmet struck the top of the doorframe as a thrust by Ugly Bald Bastard propelled me into the daylight.
On my left, as I stood blinking after the gloom of the stagecoach interior, was the coruscating brilliance of Crystal Palace like an
