The Letter (15 page)

Margaret remonstrated with her but she commented witheringly, “You have no knowledge of these things. Why should you? It is not your birthright. Because of this you will always be an unsuitable wife. My son required an Indian wife… The girl I had chosen, such an obedient girl, trained from birth to obey her husband… but she is no more… And you? You want to know too much… never content with what you find. Rather than continually meddling you will be better served with your own people. Be satisfied that my grandchildren love you but they will never be Britishers!”

How could she say such wicked things after all these years? Was nothing to be forgotten or forgiven?

Ben’s instructions to help with the war effort ran contrary to Margaret’s desire to remain with the children. She increasingly feared for her safety. If the family wanted rid of her, it was working. She applied to work as volunteer at the Garrison in Bareilly.

That done the priority was to make provision for Muni’s future. There was no way Margaret could make the maid independent so she sought a marriage with a valued and respectable servant in the home of Ben’s aunt, who was extending her household. The aunt was delighted to acquire such a talented maid. Hiten would be most unwise to disregard the arrangement.

Margaret was giving away a friend, the woman who had saved her life and if called on would sacrifice her own. Muni begged to be allowed to remain but Margaret denied the tearful pleas, “Don’t hate me Muni. I can’t take you with me and I can’t leave you at Aakesh unprotected.”

In the privacy of the English House mistress and maid embraced each other as equals. Their awful parting was dry eyed. “Memsahib, think of me with love as I shall surely think of you” Muni said, burning the words in their hearts.

Worse was to follow. The garrison Commander at Bareilly telephoned thanking Margaret for the offer of help but he had plenty of volunteers. However there was an urgent need at Nainital. He had taken the liberty of
contacting her brother-in-law who could see no problem in
sending on the necessary credentials. Captain Atrey would
approve of such a prestigious posting. The Commander looked forward to renewing his acquaintance when he returned from overseas. A car and trusted Sepoy were to be sent on Sunday to take Margaret to the train.

So soon… she considered feigning a malaria attack, God knows she’d had plenty but it would only delay the inevitable; to renege would shame Ben and give Hiten more ammunition against her. She would have to cope with the separation. Nothing she thought of made it any easier. Unable to make the weeping children understand why she was going without them, Margaret fought back the tears and caught the night train to Nainital.

Chapter 20
 

Nainital
1940-43

Returning to Barum Cottage was a mistake. Margaret rattled round it miserably. Last time she was here Pavia and Saurabh had chased down the wooden corridors, racing in and out of the rooms, filling the bungalow with noisy play. She hadn’t the heart to stay and supervise the unpacking. The capable bearer would do it properly whether she was there or not.

She rode aimlessly down to Lake Naini and sat idly in the saddle while her horse drank the clear water. The rippling reflection merged with the towering hills and traffic on the main road. Nothing was clear. Muni had recounted the gruesome legend of the Lake’s peculiar colour and how Sati, the wife of God Shiva, destroyed herself by fire because of a slight against him by her father. Shiva flew over the lake carrying the burnt body to its final resting place on mount Kailash. However the corpse shifted in his arms and the goddess’s eyes fell into the water colouring it a mythical blue-green.

Margaret hadn’t thought of it before but maybe Ben’s mother considered her to be a slight on the family. Love and barbaric cruelty were strange companions woven through India like endless unfinished threads. If Muni were here they’d laugh away such melancholic dark thoughts.

Deep in thought Margaret left the serene lakeside and turned onto the busy main road. A policeman grabbed the horse’s bridle. “How dare you put a hand on my horse without permission?” Margaret challenged, wheeling the animal’s head, pulling the bridle from his grasp.

“Memsahib… you are causing confusion on the crowded road… not looking where you are going!”

Margaret’s blood was up. She glowered down at the man who was rapidly losing authority while his voice rose higher with every word, “Memsahib, please to give me your name?”

“My name… ? My name is Atrey. My husband is Captain Atrey, an officer in the British Army, at present serving overseas.”

The man shrivelled in front of her but a gathering of spectators hemmed in both horse and rider. The high-spirited animal chomped on the bit. Margaret drew upright in the saddle, tightening the reins. Flecks of foam gathered at the corners of the horse’s mouth. Brandishing her whip threateningly she pushed through the gawping mass. In a fit of pique Margaret returned the mare to its owner and stormed into Barum cottage banging the doors behind her. She was to report for duty for the first time that afternoon and the morning had done nothing to calm her nerves.

The single storied Military Hospital was surrounded by lawns. Every blade of grass stood to attention. At strategic points, carved flowerbeds were placed like buttons on a dress uniform. Nothing was left to nature.
Margaret approached the dazzling white reception area
where a khaki dressed, clean-shaven young man shuffled
papers behind a desk. A fan whirred above his head
rustling the pages. He was in no hurry to acknowledge
the
woman waiting impatiently.

“Mrs Margaret Atrey,” Margaret said, “reporting for work as a volunteer auxiliary nurse.”

“Well I don’t know where we’ll put you!”

“Young man, I am the wife of a distinguished Indian officer. How dare you assume that I will be quartered at your discretion? I have my own bungalow off the Mall road.”

A junior officer came into the lobby. The clerk’s manner immediately became deferential, “Sir, I was explaining to Mrs Atrey that I did not know where she would be quartered, her being married to an Indian.”

“I’m sure Private Jackson meant no offence. I believe the Colonel would like to meet you,” he said politely steering Margaret into an elegant furnished room. The Commanding Officer rose to greet her.

“Mrs Atrey, I am delighted to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “My name is Colonel Charles Thorpe. I had the good fortune to meet your husband in Egypt. What a lucky coincidence you’ve been posted here. Won’t you join me for tea? I’ll introduce you to matron later.”

Tea was served on the veranda. Colonel Thorpe chatted easily. He’d met Ben in Cairo, “Your husband is a first class surgeon, saved the lives of countless of my chaps.” Then he added tactlessly, “Forgive me but you’re not what I expected.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows, “Well Colonel, what did you expect?”

“I’m very sorry, that was damned impertinent of me.”

“I’m sure you meant no harm. I have become used to the reaction my marriage evokes.”

“Your husband is a very fortunate man. Please accept my apology for being so crass.” Discomforted by his earlier remark Colonel Thorpe tried to make amends, “Look, I expect to be posted out shortly. I don’t like to see a British woman alone in these troubled times. My wife is here. I’m sure she will do whatever she can to help you.” The Colonel’s manner convinced Margaret that he meant what he said. She wasn’t sure his how his wife would feel about it.

Matron was formidable. She was also brisk, proficient, and highly professional. The hospital ran like clockwork. Margaret was to be working almost exclusively alongside a group of Anglo-Indian volunteers.

*  *  *  *  *

The patients suffered from malaria, typhoid, and a multitude of fevers, ulcers, wounds and broken limbs that festered in the heat. The men were an easy-going bunch but on recovery returned to the merciless jungles. Some had been hospitalized two or three times, wise-cracking that they were on holiday.

The death of a soldier, and the realisation that his parents would receive the news at the same time as the cheerful letter she had written for him made Margaret feel particularly low. She was grateful to be asked to go roller skating by some of the nurses. Her usefulness on the wards and obvious education led to an increasing number of invitations to join them. Their jolly company helped to fill the lonely hours without the children.

The Flatt, on the Northern side of Lake Naini, was a popular place for recreation with a thriving market and famous boat house as well as the roller skating rink. Margaret laced up the skates and timorously stepped out, held up by her colleagues. Eventually she wobbled after them jerking her arms mechanically or whirling them madly, trying to emulate their fluid movements. She was beginning to make progress when her legs were knocked from behind and she landed on the rink with a painful thump.

A dark haired man gallantly helped her up. She took a steady look at him. Beneath his tan, lines of fatigue creased the skin at the corners of his brown eyes. Margaret intended to tick him off but he got in first, “That’s what you get for messing about with soldiers on horse back.”

“Excuse me! I’ve got better things to do with my time!”

“My heart is broken! I can see you’ve forgotten me.”

“Forgotten you?” Margaret searched her memory without any luck.

“The last time I was in Nainital you almost unseated me… riding off with hardly a backward glance.”

“Gosh was that you? It was yonks ago! I bet you were sore for days.”

“More like weeks!”

“Well if it’s any consolation I was reported and fined.”

“Serves you right… I’m not sure I should introduce myself to a law breaker. By the way I’m Tommy.”

“A likely story… Every man in the British army is called Tommy.”

He laughed, “It’s true! I’m with the Bush Warfare School.”

She quipped, “I’ve heard you have to be slightly mad to be with them. Well Tommy I’m Margaret… Margaret Atrey” she said, as the other girls skated towards them. She introduced him.

He said “I’m hoping if I teach your friend to skate, she’ll teach me to ride”

They told him she was pretty hopeless. Some of them had to go on duty so they couldn’t wait. He wanted to start immediately. Margaret agreed so they left them to it.

“I hope you know what you’re taking on” she said.

“That’s the fun. I don’t.”

After an hour spent teaching her with nothing to show for it except bumps and bruises Tommy said, “Look, we
don’t seem to be having much luck with the roller-skating.
Why don’t we give it a rest and go to the mess? “

“That’s a bit rich. You’re just ashamed to be seen with such useless skater in front of your friends.”

“Not so. You’re the best looking nurse on the rink. It’s a pity you can’t stay on your feet long enough to prove it.”

She drank gin fizz for the first time. Tommy was entranced and told her he’d never met a girl like her but Margaret didn’t feel like a girl. There were days when she felt a thousand years old. Tommy made her keep their pact and she arranged to go riding with him the next day.

*  *  *  *  *

They rode out as often as they could. Tommy had been in India almost as long as Margaret. He had arrived via Gibraltar with the Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry
in 1936, and within months was attached to the Burmese
militia. In and out of Burma, he’d been recruited by the Bush Warfare School. Since then he’d spent most of his time in the jungle. He’d left a fiancée behind in England. She’d married his best friend. Away from home for five years, he didn’t blame her.

“That’s war for you” Margaret said, telling him how she missed Ben and the children.

She was in a quandary. Surely there could be nothing wrong in enjoying Tommy’s friendship? Then why did she have scruples when he asked her to spend a whole day with him?

They set off by car to explore lofty Naina Peak, climbing
the first quarter of a mile on foot through the shade of tall trees, the heavy green canopy lit by the plumage of gaudy
birds. Putting on warm jackets they ventured higher into more rugged mountainous terrain. The high altitude made the going tough and Margaret rested on a pile of boulders looking down the mountainside where the land basked in the warmth of the afternoon. Tommy climbed higher calling her to follow him. She scrambled up to see the awesome Himalayas ranged along the horizon, their snow capped peaks tinged pink by the rays of the sun.

“Margaret I’m leaving tomorrow. I want you to know you’ve got me through a difficult patch in my life…” The air between them was electric. “I can’t go without telling you. I love you. I didn’t mean to. It started out as a bit of a lark to get my own back… If you weren’t married…” He pulled her closer, kissing her.

“Tommy don’t…” she said breaking away, but the enjoyment of the lingering kiss pricked her conscience. If things were different, well who knows? Always happy in his company she instinctively trusted him. His posting was a blessing, removing temptation, but the brightness in her life was going with him.