Page 179 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden

Sam stopped and regarded her with tired eyes. Adela was suddenly struck by how this waiting and not knowing must be taking its toll on Sam too. She knew all he wanted to do was plan for their future family life back in India, and yet here he was, standing by her once more as she searched for her son.

‘Adela, I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘We just have to take things as they come. But we’ll face it together.’

Adela felt a grateful pang. She slipped her arms around his waist. ‘Thank you, Sam. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.’

He encircled her in his arms and laid his chin on her head. ‘Oh, Adela,’ he sighed, ‘I don’t want to lose you over this. That is my biggest fear. That’s why I’ll come with you tomorrow and do what I can to support you.’

She was jolted by his words. ‘Oh, darling Sam, you will never lose me – I love you far too much. Whatever happens tomorrow, my future is with you and our baby – I promise you that.’

He squeezed her to him and they stood in silence watching the evening stars prick the darkening sky, expectant and fearful of what the next day would bring.

Adela found James preoccupied as he drove them west up the Tyne Valley. She coaxed him into talking about the family holiday at StAbbs.

‘It wasn’t altogether a success,’ he admitted. ‘Tilly was still annoyed at Libby for not coming back in time and just sending a telegram with no explanation. I got it in the neck all week as if I’d somehow been party to her delay. Johnny told her to stop going on about it and that Libby was obviously having a good time up at Belgooree.’ James sighed. ‘Of course that just made Tilly crosser. But thank goodness Johnny was there. We spent most of the week out fishing. He’s got a boat. We caught some cod on the long line. Mungo said it was better sport thansitting with a rod thigh-deep in a river for hours. He’s enjoying having his uncle around and Johnny seems to know what to say to Mungo better than I do.’

They passed Corbridge and then turned north and uphill.

‘I’ve left Tilly rearranging furniture for the umpteenth time,’ he said glumly. ‘And she’s acquired a dog – a foolish fluffy thing that will need washing after every walk and be absolutely no use to me as a gun dog.’

Adela gave distracted replies, thankful that she was sitting in the back while Sam kept up the conversation in the front of the car. By the time they drove through the gates to the Willowburn Estate, Adela was sick with nerves. She feared she might be unable to control her emotions in front of the Gibsons; she seemed to succumb to tears so easily since becoming pregnant again.

Up the drive lay a Gothic mansion with battlements and towers which, according to James, had been built by a Victorian who had made his money in iron production and shipbuilding. James drove past the main entrance and carried on under an archway bearing a clock tower and parked up in the stables’ courtyard.

A small, slim woman with permed pale-fair hair, dressed in riding jodhpurs and jacket and wearing dark glasses against the bright late-summer sun, met them with a wave and a ‘Hey!’ James introduced them to Martha Gibson. The woman pushed her sunglasses on to her head and gave them a gleaming smile. So this was John Wesley’s adoptive mother! Adela’s heart drummed and she couldn’t stop staring. The American had pretty grey eyes, Adela noticed.

‘So nice to meet you,’ Martha said, shaking Sam and Adela by the hand. ‘Can I call you Adela?’ she asked. Adela nodded, too tongue-tied to answer. ‘And you must call me Martha. We don’t stand on ceremony here. Gus won’t be riding with us I’m afraid – he has a meeting with the land agent or some such. But we’ll catch him later. You will stay for tea after our ride, won’t you?’

Martha turned from Adela and slipped an arm through James’s. Adela tried to slow her rapid breathing. ‘And James,’ said Martha, ‘I want to hear all about StAbbs and the fishing. Did you catch anything big? And did you dive off the harbour wall with the youngsters?’

James laughed. ‘I’m afraid my days of swimming in the North Sea are long over.’

‘James!’ she admonished. ‘You’ve become such a softie since living overseas. I thought a man of your vigour would be bathing in the sea before breakfast every day.’

Adela saw him flush with pleasure at her teasing. No wonder her cousin enjoyed coming to Willowburn, being flattered by the attractive American. Martha seemed friendly and extrovert, but was she kind and loving? Sam seemed charmed by her too. Within minutes, she had him telling her all about his time with the mission in the Himalayan foothills and his planting of apple orchards.

‘Some of the saplings came from America,’ he told her, as if she was personally to be thanked.

‘Well, isn’t that wonderful?’ she cried. ‘I know missionaries in India too: the Hakings. Now where is it they live? Madras, I think. Have you heard of them?’

Adela couldn’t stop herself saying, ‘India is a very big country.’

‘Of course, how stupid of me,’ said Martha with a laugh.

Sam flashed Adela a look before smiling at Martha and saying, ‘No, I don’t know them but tell me more. Have they been in India long?’

Adela took a deep breath to calm herself. She wanted to like this woman: if she was John Wesley’s adoptive mother then it was important that she liked her. The American woman was unstuffy – just as Joan had indicated – yet there was something mildly irritating about her over-familiar manner. She was so self-assured, while Adela now found herself completely at a loss for words and unable to make any small talk. But what was Martha like with her son? Adela kept looking about for any signs of the Gibson boy but there were none.

Tommy greeted them cheerfully and supervised the stable boys readying the horses. Joan, it appeared, had gone into Hexham for the day with Bonnie. Adela wondered if Joan was deliberately keeping out of their way, still too embarrassed by the incident with the necklace.

They rode out of the grounds, James and Martha leading, and headed up on to the high ground to the north. Adela’s anxiety began to subside as they rode further, enjoying being on horseback for the first time since they had left Belgooree in January. She filled her lungs with the clear air and emptied her mind of everything but the sound of skylarks and bleating sheep.

As they skirted a copse of wind-blasted trees, Adela allowed herself to ponder a future where she and Sam didn’t return so soon to India. Perhaps she could help him with his photography business on the sales side, promoting his work and making new contacts. They could come regularly to Willowburn to ride and she would have the chance to see her son growing up, even though she could never be more to him than a friend of his American mother’s ...

Adela looked at Sam riding ahead of her, easy in the saddle, his long lean back and muscled legs at one with the animal that he rode. Would Sam be able to keep up the charade of them being an ‘uncle’ and ‘aunt’ to Sanjay’s son? Adela felt heavy-hearted at the thought of the tension that might arise between her and her husband over John Wesley and where the boy would fit – if at all – into their future life together. How soon would Sam grow to resent her abandoning a future back in India and plans for him to become a tea planter?

‘Sam tells me that you were a Toodle Pip.’

Adela was so lost in thought that she hadn’t been aware of Martha falling into step beside her as they emerged below the wood.