Page 6 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)

A dela awoke as the car bumped up the familiar track, passing the squat factory, gleaming white in the moonlight, and lurched towards the bungalow. The air smelt of woodsmoke and the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers. She sat up, pulling hair out of her eyes.

‘I take it that’s the burra bungalow?’ Sam nodded towards the gateposts smothered in bougainvillea, with a glimpse of red tin roof beyond.

‘Yes, we’re home.’ Adela grinned and hugged Nelson. Then her smile faltered. ‘You will stay, won’t you? Please stay and help me explain.’

On the journey she had told him everything about her unhappy time at school and the hurtful things that Nina Davidge had said.

Sam had been sympathetic, but hadn’t understood.

He’d tried to mollify her as if she were a child: ‘Best to take no notice. Bullies get bored if you don’t rise to their baiting.

You’re a great girl– you’ll find other friends. ’

She studied him now, his face in profile: the long nose and smooth jaw that looked like he never needed to shave, the firm mouth and the battered hat perched on his short, thick hair.

Under the tweed jacket with leather patches at its elbows, his shoulders looked strong and comforting.

Sam’s hands on the steering wheel were large and dextrous– a sportsman’s hands– and she had an overwhelming urge to touch their roughened edges.

With a gasp, Adela realised that she was smitten with Sam Jackman.

‘What’s wrong?’ He glanced over. ‘It’s okay. I’ll stay and back you up.’

Adela gulped. ‘Thank you.’

Passing the servants’ compound, their arrival set dogs barking. The bungalow, ghostly in the bright moonlight and covered in creepers, emerged out of the dark. Lamps glowed from a room beyond the veranda.

‘Scout!’ Adela cried and was out of the car the moment they stopped.

Her tan-coloured dog, with bushy tail wagging, came bounding down the steps to meet her. She fell on him, cuddling and stroking as he licked and barked in excitement.

‘Who’s there?’ a strong voice bellowed from the veranda above. ‘Good God, Adela! My darling, what are you doing here?’

Wesley Robson dashed down the creaking veranda steps. Adela stumbled into her father’s arms, burying her head in his warm chest, breathing in the smoky smell of his waistcoat. She burst into tears.

‘What’s happened?’ he demanded. ‘You’ve hardly got a stitch of clothing on.’ He swivelled to the man climbing out of the car, a monkey clinging to his shoulder. ‘And who are you?’ He peered into the shadows. ‘Would you like to explain what the devil is going on?’

Sam came forward, hand outstretched and smiled. ‘Sam Jackman of the Cullercoats ,’ he said, ‘and happy to deliver your daughter safely home. She’s not harmed in any way, but we need to ring the school and tell them where she is.’

‘Do we indeed?’ Wesley stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘Who is it, Wesley?’ a woman called from above.

Adela was too overcome with relief and tears to answer.

‘It’s Adela,’ Wesley shouted, ‘and ... and Jackman the boatman’s boy.’

Sam bristled to be addressed as a boy. ‘MrsRobson, if I could just come in for a moment and explain—’

‘You’ll certainly do that,’ Wesley blustered, steering his daughter towards the house.

Adela looked up to see her mother staring down from the top of the steps, clutching her stomach. ‘Darling!’

‘Clarissa, you should be resting,’ Wesley chided.

Adela expected her mother to hurry down to meet her, but she hung on to the veranda railing as if she’d been winded.

‘Mother,’ Adela cried, running up the stairs and flinging out her arms.

Clarrie embraced her, but her hold was awkward. Her mother felt fat, she had put on so much weight. Adela blurted out her woes.

‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand it any longer.

They’ve been horrid to me all term and no one’s speaking and Nina Davidge, the colonel’s daughter, has said terrible things about– about both of you– and then they stopped me being in the house play so I did a dance and Miss Black said I was a d-disgrace.

And I didn’t know what to do, so I got into Sam’s boot– it wasn’t his fault– and he said he’d get me home. I won’t go back– not ever!’

Clarrie hugged her and stroked her hair away from her tear-stained face. ‘Hush now. Come inside and tell us properly.’ She saw Sam hovering below. ‘And you, Sam, please come up. You’ve had a long, tiring drive.’

With growing reluctance, Sam mounted the steps behind Wesley, who was huffing and muttering under his breath.

Half an hour later, with spicy tea brought in by their khansama, Mohammed Din, who did not hide his delight at seeing Adela, Sam had explained as best he could what had happened earlier that day.

Adela, after her first outpouring, was curled up under her mother’s arm, exhausted and suddenly overwhelmed by what she had done.

She felt embarrassed and shy in Sam’s company.

‘You should have taken her back,’ Wesley berated the young riverboat captain. ‘They’ll have search parties out looking for her. How could you be so irresponsible?’

‘It’s what Adela wanted,’ Sam defended. ‘She was very upset.’

‘She won’t learn to stand up for herself by running away.’

‘Wesley,’ Clarrie said calmly, ‘go at once and telephone the school. Explain that Adela is quite safe and there’s no need to worry further. We’ll sort things out tomorrow.’

‘I’ll take her back tomorrow,’ Wesley declared.

‘No, Daddy,’ Adela protested. ‘Please don’t.’

‘I think that might be a mistake,’ said Sam. ‘A few days at home won’t do any harm, surely.’

‘Did I ask for your opinion?’ Wesley snapped. ‘Our daughter’s welfare is our business, not yours, Jackman.’

‘Of course.’ Sam flushed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t pick on Sam,’ Adela said. ‘He was just trying to help me.’

‘He’s made things worse.’ Her father scowled. ‘You’ll go back tomorrow and face them like a brave Robson.’

Adela sat up in agitation. ‘No, I won’t! I’m not a Robson in their eyes. I’m a two annas– and you’re a four annas, Mother!’

Clarrie gasped and put a hand to her throat.

‘How dare you!’ Wesley hissed. He hauled her from the sofa and shook her. Adela gritted her teeth and glared back.

Sam leapt from his seat. ‘Don’t take it out on her– she’s only repeating what the Davidge girl said.’ He put a restraining hand on Wesley.

‘The Davidge girl?’

‘Nina’s mother said it,’ Adela cried, wincing in pain. ‘Henrietta Davidge. Said you jilted her at the altar and you married a half-caste. But it’s not true, is it? Tell me none of it’s true!’

Abruptly Wesley let go. Adela nearly fell backwards. Her mother heaved herself up, the blood draining from her face as she faced her husband. ‘Henrietta? The woman you were going to marry? Did you know she was in Shillong?’

Wesley’s face was puce with fury. ‘That meddling woman. I did see her at speech day, lording it over the other mothers, but we hardly spoke.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘There was nothing to tell. She married a colonel and I married you. She’s just being malicious– jealous of you no doubt.’

Clarrie covered her face in her hands. ‘Oh, this is all my fault. I should have listened to you and sent Adela back to school in England like you wanted.’

‘You wanted to send me to England?’ Adela asked in shock.

Wesley’s eyes shone with a fierce light, his jaw so clenched he could not speak.

‘Only because he thought that way we could protect you from the gossipmongers,’ Clarrie said, her voice wobbly. She reached for her daughter. ‘But I couldn’t bear to have you so far away. It was so selfish of me.’

Adela caught a look of desolation pass between her parents. Her stomach cramped in fear. She flinched away from her mother’s hold.

‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’ She glanced at Sam and saw a look of pity in his kind hazel eyes.

‘Tell me, Mother!’

Clarrie clutched her stomach as she faced her.

‘Your grandfather Jock married your grandmother Jane Cooper from Shillong. She was the daughter of a British father and an Assamese mother. I spent my childhood being talked about in the cantonments and planters’ clubs as being four annas short of a rupee for having an Indian grandmother.

I ignored their catty comments and I thought things were changing– but obviously they’re not.

That’s why I’ve tried to shelter you from the cruelty of petty snobbery among some of the British here. ’

Adela stared at her in bewilderment. ‘How can you have kept such a thing from me? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘It was for your own protection—’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ Adela cried. ‘You were just too ashamed to tell me, weren’t you? I should have been told. You lied to me! I’m not like the others. Nina was right: I’m a two annas.’

Wesley pulled his daughter to him. ‘She isn’t ashamed,’ he insisted. ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

Adela struggled out of his hold. ‘I hate you both! I can’t believe anything now. I bet you jilted Nina’s mother. You’re a blackguard just like she said!’

Wesley tried to grab her again. Sam leapt in front and seized his arm. ‘Don’t touch her!’

The two men struggled, knocking over a side table.

‘Stop it!’ Clarrie wailed. Suddenly she shrieked and doubled over.

Adela watched in horror as her mother crumpled to the floor. In an instant Wesley was at her side, holding her close.

‘Darling, are you all right?’ He kissed her hair and rubbed her back. ‘I’ll send MD for the doctor, shall I?’

‘The doctor?’ Adela gasped. ‘What’s wrong?’ At once she was full of fear that her mother was dying and she would lose her for ever. She couldn’t imagine life without either of her parents. ‘I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to upset you.’ She threw her arms around Clarrie’s neck.

‘It’s not you, my darling,’ Clarrie groaned. ‘It’s the baby.’

Adela drew back.

‘What baby?’

‘The baby’s coming.’

Adela was stunned. Her mother was far too old to be having a baby, surely.