she had answered the obligatory questions about her travels , through mr vaghela , confirmed that she was not acquainted with the owner 's cousin in milton keynes , and then , having paid for mr vaghela 's glass of chai ( and a sticky pistachio sweetmeat , to keep his strength up , you understand ) , she had sat under the canopy and gazed out at what she now knew , from her slightly elevated vantage-point , to lie behind the steel wall : the endless , shimmering blue sea .