Page 34 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)
That night Adela hardly slept, tossing in her feather bed, disturbed by memories of Jay’s thrilling touches and kisses, wondering if anything he said could be taken as true.
Deborah had warned her about Jay’s reputation for falling in and out of love with women.
Fatima had been filled with worry about her getting involved with someone of Jay’s status.
So why did she allow herself to be tempted by his sweet words?
Was it because being chosen by Jay would bury for ever her feelings of inferiority to the Ninas and Margies of this world?
As wife of an Indian nobleman, her parentage would never matter again.
And women married across the racial barrier– Sophie had shown how it could work.
How shallow and pathetic she was! She didn’t love him.
She would only be using him to win herself status, security and a ticket to the world.
Falling asleep finally as the dawn crept in at the cracks between the curtains, Adela woke exhausted but with sudden clarity.
She would resist Jay’s advances, return to Simla after the fair and throw her energies once more into helping Fatima at the hospital.
Sam’s temples pounded like tom-toms. He had gone on a drinking binge– he wasn’t sure for how many days– until Fatima and Sundar had found him wandering confused around Sanjauli.
He had a vague memory of trying to find the old dairy where he had helped out in his school days, when he had still had hopes of working for the Agriculture Department.
He had been swamped in a tidal wave of remorse for causing them worry and for falling so easily off the temperance wagon.
If Hunt or – God forbid – his mentor, DrBlack, ever got to hear of it, he would probably be dismissed from the mission.
How often had he heard his fellow missionary fulminate against excessive drinking and opium smoking among some of the natives?
Hunt had been offended by Sam’s suggestion that often the porters and coolies took opium to deaden their hunger and help them through long days of gruelling marching and carrying.
But he, Sam, had no such excuse. He had allowed anger and despair to overwhelm him simply at seeing Adela enjoying the sumptuous surroundings of Wildflower Hall and the attentions of Prince Sanjay.
When he had sobered up, he had been profuse in his apologies to his long-suffering friends.
He would head straight back to Narkanda.
Sundar had clapped him on the back like an indulgent uncle.
‘Let’s enjoy a day out at the Sipi Fair, Jackman; then you can run for the hills,’ he had said and laughed.
Sam had agreed. They set off along the road to Mashobra, joining the crowds of holidaymakers heading for the forest glade at Sipi and jumping aside for cars full of British residents going to watch the spectacle too.
The sun was bright and the sky cloudless; Sam was glad he wore dark glasses.
As they drew near, his head began to pound in time to the noise of the drums and horns of local bands.
A temporary camp of tents and awnings had been erected under the trees; the air was filled with woodsmoke and the smell of pots bubbling with spicy stews. Pans sizzled as cooks dropped balls of dough into hot smoking oil, transformed in seconds into puffs of puri like magic balloons.
Fire-eaters and jugglers entertained the crowds, and children ran squealing from Tibetan dancers dressed up in hideous masks.
The hill women sat apart on a grassy slope, dressed up in their finest clothes, bedecked in glinting silver necklaces, bangles and earrings, heavy with jewels, their delicate noses pierced with huge hooped rings.
When the sun struck, they dazzled the eye, their chatter excited as they surveyed the scene and passed ribald comments on the British come to gawp at them.
Sam chain-smoked, trying to throw off his edgy mood; usually he enjoyed the fair, but this year he detected an excited tension about the place. Perhaps it was nothing and it was just his own nerves that were jangling.
‘Come, Jackman,’ Sundar said jovially, ‘let’s go and inspect the ponies. Then you can help me choose a shawl for Fatima. She never spends anything on herself.’
Sam followed obediently and they jostled through the crowds.
The British were picnicking on a slope adjacent to the hill women with a good view over the proceedings.
They were being attended to by dozens of servants, cooking and serving food and drink.
The smells made him nauseous. It was then that he spotted Ghulam.
He was dressed in a white tunic and a Congress cap, with no attempt to blend in among the hill people.
He was moving towards the women’s section.
Sam couldn’t believe Ghulam would risk being seen so publicly at a country fair.
This was no political rally. Unless he was going to turn it into one, Sam thought grimly. He was startled by Sundar’s sudden cry.
‘Look, there’s Adela and MrsHogg.’
Adela was sitting on a camping chair, slim legs crossed, wearing a summer frock of bold orange flowers and a topee, chatting animatedly with Fluffy. Sundar called out. Adela turned, waved and jumped out of her chair. Sam was torn between excitement at seeing her and trying to keep an eye on Ghulam.
Adela beckoned them over.
‘Come on,’ Sundar encouraged. ‘Now is your chance to impress Miss Robson.’
Sam hesitated, but Sundar pushed him forward. Adela met them halfway and greeted them warmly.
‘Hello, Sam.’ She smiled up at him quizzically. ‘I hoped you might be here today. Will you be staying for a few days? Auntie and I are returning to Simla after this.’
Sam shook his head. ‘I’m on my way back to the mission– I’ve been in Simla for a week.’ He glanced back to see if Ghulam was still in sight.
‘Oh, I see.’ Adela did not hide her disappointment. ‘We’ve been having a few days’ holiday—’
‘Yes, I know. You’ve been at Eagle’s Nest.’
‘Word does get round Simla quickly, doesn’t it?’ she said with a nervous laugh.
‘You look very well, Adela.’ Sam smiled. ‘And you stole the show at the Gaiety.’
‘You came to see it?’ she gasped.
‘Of course he did.’ Sundar grinned. ‘All your fans were there.’
‘So why didn’t you let me know?’
‘Because someone else seems to be monopolising you these days,’ Sam teased.
‘Oh, Prince Jay.’ Adela blushed. ‘Well, he’s been very generous.’
As if on cue, Jay strolled over. Adela hurriedly introduced them.
Jay gave an urbane smile. ‘Gentlemen, would you like to join us for tiffin? The Raja of Nerikot is with us too.’
Sam’s gut clenched. Was this why Ghulam had come out of hiding?
Was he preparing to confront the Raja? He looked over his shoulder, scanning the crowd, but he’d lost sight of the young activist. His feeling of dread grew.
What if Ghulam was planning a violent protest, one that would whip up the already excited crowd of revellers?
Prince Sanjay’s party could be the target and Adela’s life might be in danger.
Sam had to find out where Fatima’s brother had gone.
‘That’s kind,’ said Sundar. ‘We’d like—’
‘We can’t stay I’m afraid,’ Sam cut in rudely. ‘We have to be elsewhere.’
He grabbed Sundar by the arm and pulled him away.
‘Sam,’ Adela chided, ‘please stay.’
Jay put a possessive hand to her elbow. ‘MrJackman seems in rather a hurry. Best just to let him go. Another time perhaps.’ He gave Sam a cursory nod and turned, steering Adela back to the picnic awning.
Adela sat down in frustration as Jay went off to speak to the Raja. Fluffy was fanning herself; she looked glassy-eyed in the heat.
‘Was that Sam and Sundar?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Are they not coming to join us?’
‘No,’ Adela said. ‘Sam made up some excuse not to.’
‘Perhaps he has duties to attend to.’
‘Sundar wanted to stay, but Sam wouldn’t let him. You could tell he couldn’t get away fast enough– kept glancing round as if he wanted to be anywhere but here with us.’
‘I think you’re imagining that.’
‘No, I’m not. He probably disapproves of all this,’ said Adela with a sweep of her hands around the prince’s picnic spot.
‘Yes, probably.’ Fluffy sighed.
‘Are you all right?’ Adela was suddenly concerned. ‘Would you like to go into the tent?’
‘No,’ Fluffy said, flapping her fan. ‘It’ll be even hotter in there. We could do with a good downpour to clear the air, don’t you think?’
‘Not while the fair is on I hope.’ Adela smiled. ‘We don’t want the day spoilt for everyone. Would you like some nimbu pani to cool you down, Auntie?’
‘Yes please, dear.’
While Fluffy sipped and closed her eyes, Adela scanned the crowd, trying to pick out Sam.
He had come after all to see her in the show; if only she had known he was there, she would have sought him out.
So why hadn’t he told her? Perhaps she had never crossed his mind until that evening, and he had only gone because his friend Sundar had taken him along.
To think he had been in Simla all this time and she had not known.
If she had, she would never have gone to Eagle’s Nest. Or would she?
An inner voice mocked her. She had jumped at the chance of staying in the luxurious mansion and being lavished with attention by the handsome Jay.
If she had to choose again, would she not still pick Jay?
Only last night she had been contemplating the prince’s wild promise of marriage. Was she really so fickle?