The Jharkhand Freedom Front stepped up its momentum for a separate state. The residents of McCluskieganj and elsewhere became quite certain that within two years the new state would be formed.
On 30 June 1997, the handing over of Hong Kong to China by Great Britain took place. Both Francis and Victor, those two dear friends of Dennis’s, kept him posted with letters and media clippings. This handing over took place with much fanfare at the Convention and Exhibition Centre in Hong Kong. The Prince of Wales personally represented the Queen and read out the farewell speech marking the departure of the British from Hong Kong. Both Prime Minister Tony Blair of Great Britain and President Jiang Zemin of China were present too. Nothing changed overnight, except that the postage stamp with the Queen’s face on it was withdrawn and the Red Royal Mail Post Box became the Green Hong Kong Post Box. The president assured that for the next fifty years, nothing would be altered, but already there was an underlying tension over the subtle change of policies of the new government.
In McCluskieganj too, things were happening fast. The date for Robin and Neelmani’s wedding had been fixed. Everyone felt that since the couple were ideally suited to one another, there ought to be no delay. For the last one week,
McCluskieganj was again on a high. The church had been dressed for the wedding. Saamu Munda came and parked himself in
McCluskieganj to act as the bride’s guardian and give her away. Neelmani’s mother had warned him against the smallest slip or failing. Considering Robin and Neelmani’s popularity, people from the nearby villages were expected to turn up. It was going to be like a huge convention. Only Mukherji-da of Guhabadi had predicted that the alliance did not bode well, but no one was willing to listen to him. Therefore, he just stayed mum.
The self-reliance groups would be maintaining order throughout the proceedings. Food and refreshments were aplenty and being personally overseen by the members of Robin’s extended family—Mr Mendez, Mr Miller, Mr Noel Gordon and Mr Amit Ghosh. The services of the youth too had been requisitioned—Danny and Jennifer, Bobby Gordon, Babloo and a host of others stayed on their toes. That evening the church was overflowing. It was difficult to discern the bride’s side from the groom’s. With a silver tiara on her head, and in a white-and-silver sequined wedding gown, Neelmani looked like a fairy, while Robin was looking dynamic in a white suit. A perfect couple at the altar while taking their vows! There was a thunderous uproar of joy and clapping as Robin applied vermilion in the parting of Neelmani’s hair and finished exchanging rings.
Mrs Bonner passed away within five days of the marriage. Her funeral at the McCluskieganj graveyard was an impressive one and was specially overseen by Michael Parkinson. But within days, Bonner Bhawan became a subject of controversy. Although it was a known fact that Miss Bonner had willed the house to Mariam, it was also true that some years ago, she had sold her adjacent plot of land to the R.C. Mission and had, at that point of time, made a will saying that if the Mission looked after her in her old age, they would get Bonner Bhawan too after her death. However, subsequently she changed that will and made Mariam her sole beneficiary. A legal tussle ensued. Mariam was quite down though not out because of the support that the whole village gave her. Finally it was resolved—it was agreed that Mariam got possession of the upper storey of the house while the lower floor would be turned into a museum.
Mr Gibson was taken to Australia by his wife, who had set her son Ronald on the task of bringing back his father. Ronald was shocked to see the state Mr Gibson had been reduced to, living as he was in the servant’s quarter of the house which was once his own. It took him just two hours to pack Mr Gibson’s belongings and then he was ready to leave. But Mr Gibson kept at it. ‘No, I will not go … I will die here … Stupid! … Idiot! … You dare force me … No I won’t go!’ The whole village witnessed his traumatic exit as he was bundled into a taxi to be taken to the Ranchi airport. Dennis said, ‘Just for a short while, Mr Gibson. See how far your son has come to take you.’ Dennis saw that his hands that were holding Mr Gibson’s were drenched with the old man’s tears, but he also saw that Ronald too was weeping.