Page 5 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)

Laughter grew as Nelson leapt across the seats and evaded capture. Adela whistled for him– a loud one through her fingers like she’d seen Sam do– and the monkey scampered backstage again and into her arms.

Nina flung a look of loathing as she hurried on stage. Adela felt a twinge of remorse as she watched Nina’s flustered performance from the wings.

‘A real actress wouldn’t care if a monkey ran off with her crown,’ she whispered to Flowers. ‘A professional doesn’t need props– she just gets on with it.’

But to stop any more antics from Nelson, she put him back on his lead, which she tied to a chair.

The short play was over even quicker because Margie jumped a whole scene leading up to her execution by order of Queen Bess, cutting out Nina’s long, dramatic final speech. Nina stormed off to halfhearted applause.

‘I’ll never forgive you for this– or you, stinky Flowers.’ Nina pushed past them, eyes smarting with furious tears.

Miss Bensham appeared in the opposite wing, where the gramophone was set up, and waved across. ‘Ready?’ she mouthed.

Adela nodded and gave the thumbs up. Miss Bensham beamed and gave the signal for the curtains to be pulled aside again. She began announcing the final surprise act.

‘Two young ladies have been working hard in secret to put on an extra entertainment for you. This is not part of the competition but just for your pleasure. Let me introduce The Two Chaplins!’

Adela’s stomach flipped. ‘Come on, Flowers, it’s us now.’ She took the girl’s hand.

Flowers pulled away. Her face was pale with terror. She shook her head, unable to speak.

‘This is our big moment,’ Adela urged. ‘Don’t get cold feet now.’

‘I-I c-can’t,’ Flowers gasped. ‘Sorry ...’ She turned and dashed away.

‘Flowers!’

But she was gone.

The curtains were fully opened, and Adela could hear the crackle and hiss as Miss Bensham put the first record on the gramophone, The William Tell Overture . She felt a wave of panic surge through her. The act was ruined before it started; she would be a laughing stock if she went on alone.

Adela looked round in desperation. Nelson. She rushed across and untied the monkey’s lead. ‘Now’s your big chance at stardom.’

She waddled onstage Charlie Chaplin style, turning a hockey stick in place of a walking cane and holding Nelson on his lead.

Miss Bensham was looking aghast from the other wing.

There was laughter from the hall as Nelson tried to grab the stick and imitate Adela.

She improvised, speeding up their act in time to the music and allowing Nelson to chase her around the stage.

She tripped over his lead, banging her knee hard, but the audience roared with laughter, so she did it again on purpose.

The record finished and the girls applauded and cheered. Nelson clapped them back. Miss Bensham was so bemused she forgot to put on the second record. Adela did an exaggerated waddle across and reminded her.

As ragtime music blared out, Adela began to shed her comic clothing: blazer, hockey boots, baggy trousers.

Each time Nelson scampered after her, trying to put them on or hurling them over his head.

The youngest girls laughed until they were crying.

Adela, now clad in a skimpy flapper’s dress (made out of an old petticoat and fringes from a lampshade), tossed off her hat, and her long, unbound wavy hair fell about her shoulders.

She danced and kicked her legs for all she was worth, knowing that the monkey would mimic her.

She picked him up and waltzed around the stage, unable to keep the grin off her face at the giggling beyond.

Then abruptly it died away as the headmistress marched to the front and ordered the curtains to be closed.

Her face was thunderous. She hissed at Miss Bensham to stop the music.

Adela came to a standstill, Nelson still cavorting across the stage.

The giggling audience, hands clapped over mouths, disappeared from Adela’s view as the curtain fell.

Miss Black’s commanding voice could be heard addressing the hall just feet away.

‘This is no laughing matter. I would not have allowed such a spectacle if I had known the content of the surprise entertainment. Quite inappropriate. I hope our honoured guests will not think this sort of thing usually goes on at StNinian’s.

Now, we will have a ten-minute interval while DrBlack and I decide which play we deemed the best in both content and delivery.

And I think you will agree what a high standard we have seen here this afternoon– beautiful costumes and stirring patriotic words.

Then DrBlack will present the winner with the Inter-House Drama Cup. ’

Adela caught Miss Bensham’s horrified look. They were both in trouble. A moment later Miss Black was stalking backstage, face puce with fury.

‘What an unseemly performance,’ she said, glaring. ‘Miss Bensham, I can’t imagine what you were thinking of allowing this.’

‘I thought it was just some dancing—’

‘I shall deal with you later.’ She turned on Adela.

‘Look at you, dressed like some sleazy cabaret act! And cavorting about with that monkey. Are you deliberately trying to provoke me? You’ve brought this school into disrepute.

How ashamed I feel in front of DrBlack. Have you anything to say for yourself?’

Adela stared back in bewilderment; she thought she had given the performance of her life. How could she have misjudged the situation so badly? Flowers had been right to be afraid of their headmistress: the woman was stuck in Victorian times.

‘I suppose I should go and give Nelson back,’ she mumbled.

‘Nelson?’ Miss Black snapped.

‘The monkey– I should give him back to MrJackman.’

‘Miss Bensham will do that,’ the headmistress ordered. ‘You will put some clothes on.’ She pointed at the stage door. ‘Now, get out of my sight. I shall be informing your parents of this.’

Adela bundled Nelson into Miss Bensham’s arms– the house mother looked stricken– and grabbed at her pile of discarded clothes. Then she fled from the stage, stumbling down the outside steps, numb and humiliated.

Sam dumped his camera equipment on the seat beside him and drove off into a purplish dusk, leaving behind a frosty-faced Gertrude Black and a waving Norman.

He probably hadn’t improved the situation by saying he thought the Robson girl was rather a good dancer and wasn’t it brave of her to go on stage alone?

Nelson, at least, had had the time of his life and was still leaping around the open-topped car, overexcited from all the attention.

As Sam bumped away down the school drive and headed thankfully for home, he hoped Adela wasn’t in too much trouble.

Knowing Norman, he was sure the kind doctor would persuade his sister to show some Christian mercy, if not forgiveness.

Sam found himself whistling the Charleston as he drove through the scented pines leading away from Shillong. A glorious sunset was blazing in the west beyond the treetops as they rattled over the hill road.

‘Settle down, Nelson,’ Sam said, trying to calm his companion, but the monkey wouldn’t sit still for a second. He screeched and grabbed Sam around the neck.

Eventually Sam stopped the car and turned sternly to his pet. ‘I can’t drive with you in this state. What on earth is the matter with you?’

The monkey hopped over the back seat and squatted on the boot.

He began drumming his hands on the metal and screaming.

Sam got out of the car and circled it, wondering if there was a tyre going flat or if something had got stuck under the chassis that was making Nelson agitated.

It was too dark to see under the car, so he went and fetched a torch from the front shelf.

Still the monkey squealed and banged on the boot.

Sam saw that the boot had not been properly closed.

As he opened it wide to give it a good slam shut, Nelson grabbed the torch and swung on to his shoulders.

Something caught in the torchlight. Sam blinked in astonishment.

He grabbed the torch from the monkey and shone it at the interior.

A girl squinted back at him, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

She was cowering under a StNinian’s blazer in a fringed petticoat.

Nelson leapt down and squatted beside her, patting her bare legs.

‘Is that you, Adela?’ Sam asked in alarm. ‘What are you—?’

‘Are we out of Shillong?’ She sat up, clutching Nelson and peering out in fear.

‘Yes, but—’

‘Please don’t take me back. I don’t want to get you into trouble, but please don’t.’

‘I can’t leave you in the boot of my car!’

Adela scrambled up and swung long legs over the side. Sam grabbed her hand to help her. She struggled to push him away.

‘Let me go! I won’t go back!’

Sam held her hard. ‘Hey, steady on. Tell me what this is all about.’

‘I just need a lift. I need to get away.’ She glared back at him with defiant eyes.

‘You can’t run away at this time of night. People will be worried about you.’

‘No, they won’t. Nobody cares.’

‘Of course they do. Miss Black—’

‘Miss Black hates me. I’m a disgrace to the school. She’s going to tell my parents.’

Suddenly Sam laughed. ‘Is this all because of your dancing act?’

‘It’s not funny,’ Adela raged. ‘I can’t go back. They all hate me and I don’t have any friends. Even Flowers Dunlop let me down– she was supposed to do the dance too.’

‘It can’t be as bad as you think,’ Sam soothed. ‘Most of the girls loved it. I’m sure Miss Black will forgive you and it’ll all blow over.’

‘It won’t blow over. Don’t treat me like a child. I’m not a child!’

Sam let go of his hold. She stood shivering and barelegged.

‘Pretend you never saw me. I didn’t want you to find me– I was going to sneak out when you next stopped.’

‘Sneak out and go where?’ Sam snorted. ‘It’s dark, and dangerous for a girl to be wandering around in ... in ... what little you’re dressed in. You’ll catch your death.’

‘I’m not afraid of the dark. I can sleep under a tree, and then when it’s light I’ll walk home.’

‘Walk to Belgooree?’ Sam cried. ‘That would take ages.’

‘I don’t care– I can do it. Nothing is going to make me go back there – and you can’t make me either.’

Sam, hands on hips, scrutinised the stubborn girl.

She looked like an urchin with her dark, unruly hair tumbling about her shoulders, standing knock-kneed in a tatty slip with its fringed hem half off, arms folded tight over small, high breasts.

Her dark-lashed eyes– he saw now that they were flecked with green– defied him; her mouth was a mulish pout.

One day, Sam thought with a catch in his throat, Adela Robson would be beautiful.

Sam dropped his gaze and reached beyond her into the boot.

‘Here, put this round you.’ He held out a blanket. ‘And tell me what you want to do.’

‘I want to go home,’ she said at once. ‘Please, Sam, can you take me to Belgooree?’

Suddenly she looked tired and unhappy, the self-assured defiance vanishing.

‘Are your parents on the telephone?’ he asked.

She nodded, looking confused. ‘There’s one in Daddy’s office.’

‘Hop up front then and I’ll take you there. But only if you promise that we ring the school and let them know you are safe as soon as you are home.’

Her pretty, slim face broke into a smile of relief that made his heart squeeze.

‘Thanks, Sam.’

She vaulted into the passenger seat without opening the door, wrapping the blanket around her and a squealing Nelson.

Sam climbed back into the driver’s seat, fleetingly tempted to turn around and take her back to school.

That would be the sensible thing to do. But he would lose her trust for ever.

And Nelson would never forgive him. Sam started up the engine and set off towards the tea plantation, wondering how much trouble he was heading into with his rash rescue.