Page 95 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden

As soon as Mountbatten finished and handed over to Nehru to speak next, the room erupted with more questions.

‘So will there be one India or two countries?’ Harry asked.

‘Sounds like partition is coming,’ said Clarrie.

‘He kept sayingifpartition is chosen,’ Libby pointed out. ‘It’s still not a foregone conclusion.’

‘I don’t see how it can be otherwise,’ Clarrie said, her face etched with sadness.

‘Mountbatten is washing his hands of it all,’ said James in agitation, ‘like Pontius Pilate.’

‘What else can he do?’ Clarrie said. ‘He can’t get any of the warring sides to agree.’

‘He could knock some heads together,’ insisted James.

‘He could give it more time,’ said Libby, annoyed by Clarrie’s fatalism. ‘He’s only been here two months. Gandhi took weeks of talking and listening to get enemies to stop killing each other. Mountbatten hasn’t tried hard enough.’

‘It’s easy to criticise,’ said Clarrie, ‘when we aren’t the ones making the difficult decisions.’

Libby was stung by the remark. ‘But he’s taking the easy way out by blaming the mess on the other parties and saying Indians will have to decide over partition when he has no other plan.’

Clarrie sighed and sat back, her hand slipping from James’s arm. Libby could see she didn’t want to argue. How she wished Ghulam was with her as the news was breaking; she longed to know what he was thinking of it all. Would he be hunched around a wireless set with Fatima or listening at work?

‘So whenisBritain going to hand over to the Indians?’ Harry asked.

‘He talked about months rather than next year,’ said Libby. ‘Perhaps by the cold season. At least Mountbatten’s not reneging on that.’

‘Far from it,’ said Clarrie. ‘And he offered that British officials and officers would stay and help if they were asked.’

‘Does that mean we’ll be allowed to stay at Belgooree?’ Harry’s serious expression lightened.

‘Of course it does,’ said Clarrie. ‘It’s our home.’

Libby bit back the retort that they didn’t even know what country this part of Assam might end up in, let alone if they would be welcome to stay on. But she didn’t want to frighten Harry, even if Clarrie’s avoidance of the issue irritated her.

‘And what about you, Uncle James?’ asked Harry. ‘Will you carry on at the Oxford like you always have?’

Libby saw doubt flicker across her father’s face.

‘I don’t know,’ James said. ‘It’s all so uncertain ...’

It shocked Libby to see her father’s reluctance; she never thought the day would come when he would contemplate leaving Cheviot View for good. But since coming to Belgooree, he had shown no interest in going back to their home. In fact, he hardly talked about the Oxford at all.

Clarrie was soothing. ‘You don’t have to make any final decisions yet.’ She patted his hand. ‘Would you like us to turn off the wireless?’

Libby glanced at the servants behind who were murmuring anxiously amongst themselves.

‘Let’s hear what Nehru and Jinnah have to say,’ Libby suggested. ‘We might get more clarity and the servants have a right to hear it.’

She saw Clarrie flush. ‘Of course they do; that was selfish of me.’

Nehru was speaking in Hindi. As the others listened intently, Libby didn’t like to admit she understood almost nothing of what was said. Then Jinnah spoke in English on behalf of the Muslim League.

‘That’s because his Urdu’s not good enough to address his own people in it,’ muttered James.

By the end of the broadcast, Libby was left in no doubt that Jinnah was demanding a separate Muslim state called Pakistan. Ghulam would be desolate at the news; all his worst fears appeared to be coming to fruition.

‘But where will this Pakistan be?’ asked Harry.