Page 32 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)

‘Yes, you must remember,’ MrsBaxter prompted.

‘Wife’s family were in jute– plenty of money.

His widow and daughter are renting Sweet Pea Cottage for the season.

Henrietta Davidge couldn’t settle back home– spent the winter in Bengal, now Simla.

Nina recognised Adela in the play.’ MrsBaxter leant towards Adela and squeezed her arm.

‘Think she was a bit envious– rather sees herself as a bit of an actress. Henrietta, her mother, has promised to pay her through RADA.’

‘The Royal Academy in London?’ Fluffy raised an eyebrow. ‘She’ll need to be jolly good to get in first.’

Adela gulped. ‘I remember her enjoying acting at school. Lucky Nina.’

‘Yes, isn’t she?’ said Colonel Baxter. ‘We must get you two together soon, mustn’t we? It’ll be nice for the poor girl to have a friend here, show her some fun. She’s been stuck away in some dreary Bengali jute mill town with an uncle.’

Adela forced a smile, downing her second cocktail.

Fluffy put a warning hand on her bare arm and gave her a look that asked, Are you all right?

She nodded and let the waiter refill her glass.

Perhaps Fluffy had guessed that this was the dreaded Nina she had run away from, though Adela had never told her the full story, because her guardian steered her away from the Baxters until drinks were over.

By the time they went into dinner, Adela’s head was spinning.

In the vast teak-panelled dining room, hung with portraits of past viceroys and hunting scenes, she was glad to sit down.

To her dismay Colonel Baxter insisted that the prince and his ladies should join their party, so Adela found herself sitting between the Colonel and one of the officers.

In her befuddled state, she wondered if the Baxters were deliberately keeping her and Jay apart.

She felt exhausted trying to keep up with the conversation while all the time worrying about the appearance of Nina back in her life.

How long before snide rumours about her parentage would surface around the Simla tea tables?

And she wanted to avoid the awful Bracknall too.

Jay’s offer of a few days at Eagle’s Nest was suddenly even more appealing.

By the end of dinner all she could think of was getting away from Simla and out of the spotlight for a short while.

She observed Jay. He was enjoying himself with his sporty friends and revelling in the attention from the other young women. She saw how important it was for him to be liked; he started issuing invitations to visit Eagle’s Nest for shooting and dinner.

‘We should all go to the Sipi Fair together,’ he declared. ‘I’ll lay on a banquet afterwards.’

Jay ended up paying the bill for them all.

As he dropped her and Fluffy off at the bungalow, promising to send a car for them in the morning, Adela wondered if she was doing the right thing.

Tired as she was, she had half a mind to see if the after-show party at The Chalet was still going on.

She felt a pang of regret that she had given in so easily to Jay’s insistence on dinner instead of celebrating with her theatre friends.

Still, she couldn’t wait to get away into the hills for a few days.

And Jay was so very generous and kind; tonight he had given her a beautiful cashmere shawl as they had left the hotel.

‘What’s wrong?’ Fluffy came into her bedroom to say goodnight. ‘You didn’t seem yourself tonight. Is it this Nina Davidge that worries you?’

Adela nodded. ‘I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m still afraid of her.’

‘Well, the worst thing you could do would be to let it show,’ said Fluffy robustly. ‘You’re quite capable of standing up for yourself, my dear. And anyway, what possible harm could she do you?’

Adela slept badly, clock-watching through the night, impatient for the dawn. She was up and dressed with a suitcase packed long before breakfast was served.

Sam spent the morning patching up the roof of StThomas’ Church in the Lower Bazaar.

‘The native church’ as the British in Simla dubbed it.

He was friendly with the welcoming priest, who did his best for his flock with a fraction of the resources of the prestigious and well-heeled Christ Church, which looked down on StThomas’ from the Ridge.

Sam was glad of the physical labour, hammering at the corrugated iron sheeting with vigour, sleeves rolled up and shirt sticking to his back from exertion in the hot May sun.

With each blow he tried to erase the memory of the previous evening.

Adela had looked captivating on stage, playing a variety of parts, dancing and singing in the chorus and then coming on for the final tableau in a brilliant yellow sari, like some exotic butterfly next to the handsome prince.

From the loud whispers around him, he soon discovered that it was Prince Sanjay of Gulgat and that his name and Adela’s were being linked by the town’s gossips.

He’d slipped away from Sundar and Fatima at the end of the performance and gone for a cigarette by the bandstand, hoping to catch Adela as she came out of the theatre.

But there’d been a rather imperious young woman in a fashionable summer coat and pillbox hat demanding to see her.

Sam had recognised Adela’s friend Deborah, who was trying to put her off.

He’d held back in the shadows, but had been near enough to overhear the exchange.

‘I’m afraid she’s already left– a rickshaw picked her up on the Mall.’

‘I don’t believe you– she couldn’t have left that quickly.She’s ducking me, isn’t she?’ the tall girl had demanded.

‘What if she is, Nina? The way you treated her at StNinian’s, I’m not surprised.’

Nina had looked affronted. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I think you do. You bullied her. Even hearing your name still upsets her. So I’d rather you just left her alone.’

‘I came to congratulate her, but I see I’m wasting my time. It’s not my fault if she holds a silly grudge. I’m the one who was wronged by her– she ruined my performance of Queen Bess at the house plays. You wouldn’t be so eager to be her friend if you knew what I knew.’

‘Well, just stay away from her, why don’t you?’

It dawned on Sam that this was the same Nina that had made eyes at him when he visited StNinian’s and had bullied Adela all those years ago. Why was she seeking her out now if not to make trouble for her? Sam had stepped forward, smiling.

‘Good evening, Deborah! You were wonderful in the play. Congratulations.’

The young women had spun around. ‘Hello, Sam, thank you. I didn’t know you’d come to see it.’

‘Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’

‘Adela will be sorry to have missed you.’

‘She’s off to the after-show party no doubt.’

Deborah had hesitated, then thrown a defiant look at Nina. ‘No, actually, she’s gone to dine at Wildflower Hall. With Prince Sanjay.’

Nina had given a disapproving tut. ‘Well, that’s the difference between us and the likes of Adela Robson, isn’t it?’

‘Frankly,’ Deborah had replied, ‘I’d jump at the chance of dinner with an Indian prince.’

Sam had hidden his frustration. ‘Well, enjoy your evening, ladies.’

Abruptly Nina had said, ‘I thought I knew your face. You’re Jackman the film-maker, aren’t you?’

Sam had given a wry laugh. ‘Not any more. I’m a missionary now.’

‘Oh, really.’ Nina had looked disappointed. ‘Well, that sounds very worthy.’

Sam had left swiftly and rejoined his friends for tea and chat at Fatima’s flat. He had listened to them discuss Sanjay’s keen interest in Adela.

‘He appears quite single-minded,’ Fatima had said. ‘I worry for her. She assures me there’s nothing in it, but it’s obvious how flattered she is by all the attention.’

Sundar had laughed. ‘Listen to us, turning into Simla gossips. I’m sure MrsHogg won’t allow anything remiss to happen to her protégée.’

Sam had had to see for himself. Walking back to Sundar’s billet, he’d made an excuse to go further. ‘Just need to stretch the legs a bit more– not used to all this sitting around.’

In the moonlight he’d stridden out of town the five miles to Wildflower Hall.

By the time he got there, dinner guests were spilling out of the electric-lit mansion and climbing into rickshaws.

He’d recognised Colonel Baxter and his wife.

Suddenly his heart had leapt to see Adela emerge in a figure-hugging red dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders like a film star, Fluffy beside her.

Then Sanjay had followed, beckoning a servant, who came forward with a soft shawl, which the prince draped around Adela’s bare shoulders.

She had looked up at him with a huge smile of surprise and thanked him. Sam’s guts had twisted with jealousy.

He’d watched as a large gleaming black Bentley pulled up and a footman sprang forward to open the passenger door and help Fluffy inside.

The prince had taken Adela’s hand and helped her into the back, then climbed in after her.

The car had slipped away down the drive; his last image of Adela was of her face upturned towards Sanjay, still smiling.

Now Sam tried to shake off the leaden feeling he was carrying. Finishing his job at StThomas’, he declined the priest’s offer to stay for tiffin.

‘I’ve another visit to make.’ Sam thanked him and left.

He thought about returning to Sundar’s to wash and change out of his damp shirt, but couldn’t put off the moment when he would confront Adela any longer.

Pulling on his jacket, he went to buy a box of coconut fudge for Fluffy and then made his way quickly out of the bazaar.

All was quiet at Briar Rose Cottage, the veranda empty. He waved to the mali, who was watering the dahlias and roses. Noor appeared on the terrace. Sam greeted the bearer.

‘Hogg Memsa’b and Robson Memsa’b are not here.’ He gave a regretful sweep of his hands.

‘When will they be back?’

He gave a noncommittal shake of the head. ‘Three days, perhaps four.’

‘Four days?’ Sam cried. That would be after the Sipi Fair, and he would have to be back in Narkanda by then. ‘Where have they gone, Noor?’

‘Eagle’s Nest, sahib.’

Sam’s hopes plummeted. ‘The Raja of Gulgat’s place?’

Noor nodded. Seeing his disappointment, the bearer beckoned Sam on to the veranda. ‘Stay, sahib, and I’ll arrange tiffin.’

‘No, thank you, I can’t stay—’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ Noor was insistent. ‘Hogg Memsa’b would want it.’

Sam gave in quickly. ‘Thank you, that’s kind. But only if I can take it on the terrace with you. Tea and a chillum.’

Noor smiled in agreement; he liked the young missionary with the open face and cheerful manner, despite his shabby clothes and battered green hat. People from the hills spoke highly of his hard work and lack of airs and graces.

In the shade Sam and Noor sat cross-legged drinking tea, eating boiled eggs and sharing a water pipe.

Sam broke open the sweets he’d bought for Fluffy and shared those too.

Soon he had the older man talking of his home in Kashmir– Srinagar, by Dal Lake– and his four sons and two daughters, three of whom had children of their own.

He liked living in Simla because the hills reminded him of home, but he missed the lakeside; nowhere was as beautiful as Dal Lake on a spring morning with the cherry blossom in full bloom.

Two sons worked on houseboats. He would return one day, when Hogg Memsa’b had no more need of him, and live out his days being looked after by his daughters-in-law, inshallah.

‘Don’t you mind having to live far from your family?’ Sam asked.

Noor shook his head, pouring out more hot, sweet chai. ‘It’s the path I’ve been given. It’s the same for you, sahib. You live far from home and your family too?’

Sam felt an overwhelming loneliness. ‘I don’t know where home is, Noor my friend. And I don’t have any family.’

The older man looked shocked. ‘No one?’

Sam felt his jaw clamp as it always did when he thought of his mother. He muttered, ‘Perhaps my mother is still alive, but who knows.’

‘You do not know where she is, sahib?’

Sam shook his head. ‘In England if she’s anywhere.’

Noor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘If it’s God’s will, you will find each other again.’

Sam gave a bitter smile. ‘I don’t think she’s looking.’

Noor patted his shoulder. ‘You have many friends here, and God will take care of you.’

Sam’s eyes stung at the simple kindness of the man.

He envied Noor’s children; their father loved them with a fierce pride.

It made him grieve anew for his own father and wonder what it must be like to be part of a large and loving family.

Suddenly he knew how much he had wanted to see Adela again– spurred on by not just his physical longing to see and touch her, but by his yearning for someone to love and share his life with.

Noor and Adela, with their close loving families, had no idea what it was like to feel so alone or hollow inside.

Sam pulled out the small cardboard folder of duplicate photographs he had brought. ‘Please will you give these to Miss Robson?’

Noor took them and assured him that he would.

Sam thanked the bearer and left. For the rest of the day he wandered aimlessly, hands plunged in pockets, wrestling with dark thoughts.

Up Jakko Hill, down Lakkar Bazaar, along the Elysium spur to stare out in the direction of Mashobra.

Should he go there and put up a fight for Adela?

He set off along the Mashobra road and then lost courage.

What a ridiculous idea! He would only make a fool of himself.

He walked for miles: Sanjouli, Chota Simla, through the tunnel and back across the ravine.

Why was he here? He had work he should be doing.

What was the purpose of it all? He should stop feeling so sorry for himself!

Adela was being courted by an Indian nobleman; she was far out of his league.

She wasn’t the girl he thought she was. She wanted a life of glamour and satin dresses and luxury cars and sumptuous hotels.

They had nothing in common after all. Perhaps she’d never really loved him at all.

She was just friendly and approachable to everyone.

Standing among the tall deodars, Sam let out a roar of anger and frustration.

A monkey scampered past, screeching in alarm.

Sam returned to the Lower Bazaar. He bought a bottle of whisky– rough country liquor made in the hills– and took it back to Sundar’s.

He stared at it for an hour, then for the first time in three years he drank from the bottle.

When Sundar returned from work, Sam was passed out on the floor, the empty bottle clutched to his chest.