Page 63 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)
I t was my friend Ros Mitchell who put the idea in my head,’ Tilly explained once Adela had brought her crying under control and was sitting beside her at the table.
‘Her husband, Duncan, has been posted back to Newcastle. You know he works for Strachan’s agency?
Well, their headquarters are here. Ros is simply my very best friend in Assam, and I really can’t bear the thought of her being here and me out there.
But that’s as may be. She suggested I keep her company on the ship home– come back for the summer. ’
‘Why didn’t you say you were coming?’ Adela smiled tearfully. ‘Mother never mentioned it.’
‘It was all very last minute. I was lucky to get a berth on board. But there have been cancellations– some people aren’t sure if coming home is a good idea.’ Tilly paused and glanced at her children. ‘Their father wasn’t happy. He’s got it into his head that Europe’s on the verge of war.’
‘He’s right: it is,’ Libby interrupted. ‘Hitler’s got his sights on half the Continent. Poland will be next and—’
‘All right, we don’t need a political lecture, thank you, dear.’ Tilly waved an impatient hand.
‘I hope there is a war,’ eleven-year-old Mungo said in excitement. ‘I’m going to join the army as soon as I’m allowed and fight the Germans.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Jamie. ‘War’s a horrible thing, and you’re just a kid.’
‘Don’t be unkind; he’s only being patriotic,’ Tilly said, defending her youngest and putting a protective hand on his head of unruly red curls.
‘Idiotic,’ muttered Jamie, lolling back in his chair.
At sixteen, Adela noticed, he was gangly and slightly clumsy, as if not sure what to do with his long limbs.
His voice had deepened in the past year.
Libby was still plump-faced and wearing her hair in girlish plaits, but her figure was developing.
She kept crossing her arms self-consciously over her breasts, as if by doing so she could hide them.
Adela felt a pang of pity for the awkward fourteen-year-old.
‘Anyway, I’m just here for the summer holidays,’ Tilly continued.
‘Ros has kindly invited us to stay at their house in Jesmond. It’s just two streets away from my old home– can you believe it?
We’re going to spend a week in StAbb’s with Ros’s in-laws, and of course we’ll visit Mona at Dunbar, but most of the time we’ll be here in Newcastle. ’
‘That’s wonderful,’ cried Adela. ‘We’ll be able to see lots of each other.’
‘Exactly,’ Tilly said, covering her hand and squeezing it.
‘You never came to see me at school,’ Libby said, giving Adela a steady look with her dark blue eyes.
Adela flushed. ‘No, I didn’t and I’m sorry. It’s been a hectic year.’
‘I was really looking forward to it,’ said Libby.
‘Don’t be rude, darling,’ Tilly intervened. ‘Adela is a busy young woman.’
‘We’ll spend some time together this holiday,’ Adela said hastily. ‘I could take you to The People’s Theatre and introduce you to the cast.’
‘Is that the socialist theatre?’ Libby asked, her interest sparking.
‘I think so,’ said Adela. ‘It grew out of the Clarion Theatre.’
‘It is then.’ Libby smiled. ‘I’d love you to take me there. When can we go?’
‘Goodness me!’ Tilly exclaimed. ‘Stop badgering poor Adela. And do sit up straight; you’ll end up with round shoulders like me.’
Libby flushed and sat back with a mutinous look.
‘We’ll go at the weekend, Libby,’ Adela promised, ‘just you and me.’ She turned to Tilly. ‘How is Mother coping? And what news of Sophie and Rafi? I want to hear everything.’
‘As expected, your mother is being a tower of strength,’ said Tilly.
‘She is coping amazingly well with the tea garden and the business side of things. And Harry keeps her busy too. I don’t know when she has time to sleep.
Of course she has a very good undermanager in Daleep, and James gets across about once a month to make sure things are running smoothly.
I usually go with him. The climate is so much better at Belgooree.
I’m getting the most awful night sweats at Cheviot View, and on top of the prickly heat, I’m getting no sleep at all.
I’m just not made for the climate in Assam.
I can’t tell you what a relief it is to be back in Britain, where the wind doesn’t feel like a blast from a furnace. ’
‘And Sophie?’ Adela prompted.
‘Oh, you know Sophie – enjoying the jungli life. We managed to meet up at Belgooree in the cold season so that James could join a fishing trip with Rafi and the Raja. Sophie went too, of course, while I reread Clarrie’s set of Dickens on your lovely veranda.
But no doubt they both wrote and told you all about it. ’
‘Yes, but not in any detail,’ said Adela. ‘Was ... was Prince Sanjay on the trip?’
‘Oh no, he wasn’t invited. Rafi thought it might be difficult for Clarrie to have to entertain him– bring back memories of the ghastly tiger hunt.’
Adela winced. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Sorry, dear girl!’ Tilly grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘Let’s not talk about the wretched prince. As far as I know, he’s not even living at Gulgat. Gone off to continue his playboy existence in Simla or Bombay.’
Adela’s insides churned at the thought of Jay charming some other naive girl into his bed.
She went hot with shame to think of how she had succumbed to him so easily.
She turned to the others. ‘Enough talk about India.’ Adela forced a smile.
‘I want to hear all about you chaps and what you’ve been doing at school. ’
The summer passed quickly with Tilly and her family around for company.
They were a comforting link with home, and Tilly was in high spirits to be back in Newcastle.
Twice Adela went round to the Mitchells’ house in Jesmond for Sunday lunch– Ros was a quiet antidote to Tilly, and Duncan a genial host– and once they went on the train to the coast and played beach cricket.
Libby was surprisingly quick and had a better eye for the ball than Jamie, and she was just as keenly competitive as her brothers.
But the biggest revelation was taking Libby to The People’s Theatre.
Away from her family, she lost her sullen expression and combative manner and became animated and good fun.
When she laughed, her dark eyes lit up, and her chubby face was transformed.
‘Bonny’ was how Sophie would have described her.
Even Derek was captivated by her enthusiasm for their theatre and her knowledge of the class struggle.
‘A little charmer, that cousin of yours,’ he said approvingly. ‘You can bring her again.’
So Adela did. As the summer advanced, sometimes Libby would go to the theatre alone and help out.
She was very organised and had a good head for numbers, so Derek put her to work in the office, sorting out their haphazard filing.
Libby took to Josey at once, just as Adela had, and the actress mothered Libby in a way that Tilly didn’t.
Rather than nag or criticise, Josey encouraged her.
One time, when Adela and Libby went to Rye Hill together, the girl confided in Adela and Josey.
‘I wish I could live with you in Florence’s house, Josey. You treat me like a grown-up. Mummy still treats me like a baby.’
‘From what I hear, your mother is an angel compared to mine, believe me,’ Josey said, laughing.
‘It’s just that Tilly doesn’t want you to grow up too quickly,’ said Adela, ‘not while she’s thousands of miles away from you. She finds that very hard.’
‘It was her choice to have us go to school halfway round the world,’ Libby pointed out.
‘Probably your father’s,’ said Josey.
‘Well, she didn’t try to stop it, did she? And anyway I think she’s glad I’m so far away. It’s only my brothers that she misses. She’s always telling me off, but never the boys,’ Libby complained. ‘I can’t do anything right in her eyes.’
‘It’s a difficult age,’ said Adela.
‘You sound just like Mummy,’ snorted Libby.
Adela laughed. ‘Sorry. It’s just I remember so clearly being your age and desperate to be taken seriously by adults. I was in such a hurry to grow up. But if I’ve learnt anything in the past five years, it’s that it’s best not to rush.’
‘Still,’ Libby said, sighing, ‘I can’t wait to leave school and go and live in a house full of interesting people like you, Josey.’
Libby and Adela were at the theatre on a day in late August when alarming news broke of a non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union.
‘Stalin’s done a deal with Hitler,’ Libby said in disgust.
Derek was incredulous. ‘I don’t believe it. Must be anti-socialist propaganda.’
‘It’s true, Derek,’ said Josey. ‘The Soviets have got into bed with the Nazis.’
‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Derek railed. ‘The communists hate the fascists more than we do.’
‘It’s obvious,’ said Libby. ‘Miss MacGregor warned it would happen. Both powers want to export their revolutions and dominate their neighbours.’
‘But not if it means supping with the devil,’ Derek protested. ‘The Left have always stood up to the fascists. Look at Spain. Even in Germany itself.’
‘And they’ve lost every time,’ said Libby. ‘This way both Stalin and Hitler get to grab land without the other interfering. Poland will be first. They’ll be carving it up between them just like in the last century.’
Adela was astounded at the girl’s knowledge of current affairs. ‘But that was history. This is 1939,’ Adela exclaimed. ‘We won’t let that happen.’
Libby’s dark eyes looked troubled. ‘No, we probably won’t,’ she answered, ‘and that means war.’