Cinnamon Gardens (42 page)

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Authors: Shyam Selvadurai

BOOK: Cinnamon Gardens
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“I’ve presumed too much on your time already,” Manohari said in a perfect imitation of Seelan’s overly formal manner, his British intonation.

Kumudini was not amused. “Nonsense,” she said. “He is a very polite, refined man. He speaks beautifully too.”

“Ah yes, London,” Manohari said, imitating his “beautiful” speech. “Did I tell you I had tea with the king? Simply marvellous. Scones and Devonshire cream.”

Kumudini wagged her finger at her older sister. “You mark my words, akka. He is interested in you.”

With that, Kumudini went inside.

Annalukshmi shook her head. Her experience with the Macintosh boy had shown her the wisdom of not interpreting simple events or coincidences in the wrong way. There could be any number of reasons why Dr. Govind was outside Brighton. Since he was a friend of her uncle, he probably knew the
Mudaliyar as well and had come to pay him a visit. It was ridiculous to imagine that he had been standing outside the gates of Brighton in the hope that she would pass by.

Two young women, whether married or not, engaged in a conversation with an unknown man on Horton Place was not something that could escape attention or comment.

Pillai, who was supervising the cleaning up of the driveway, had observed the meeting. He conveyed this unusual sight to his wife, Rajini, who brought it to the attention of Nalamma. That evening, Nalamma sent Rajini, under the pretext of borrowing some cloves, to find out from Letchumi more details about this young man. Letchumi, though by no means fluent in English, was able to tell Rajini that he was a doctor from India by the name of Govind.

At dinner that night, Nalamma looked at her husband until she got his attention. Then she said, “What is the name of the bank manager in India. The one who used to arrange the payments for our son?”

The Mudaliyar stared at her in surprise. “Mr. Govind,” he said after a moment.

She nodded and continued to eat her dinner.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking about it, for some reason.”

23

What good are outward features if they lack
Love, the inward sense?
– The Tirukkural,
verse 79

T
he next morning, Balendran was in his study when the bell rang. He heard Sonia go towards the front door and, after a moment, the sound of his mother’s voice. Quick footsteps approached his study. Nalamma entered without knocking, Sonia behind her. He stood up.

“I have always thought you incapable of deceit,” Nalamma said.

She sank into the chair across from him, took out a handkerchief, and wiped her face. “Aiyoo, what a thing.”

Balendran stared at her, nonplussed.

“I’m talking about your Dr. Govind,” she said, irritated that he was playing innocent.

He sat down slowly in his chair.

“Bala, what is happening?” Sonia demanded.

He waved his hand at his wife to be silent. “You know,” he said to his mother.

Nalamma told him that Seelan, posing as Dr. Govind, was seen yesterday on Horton Place outside Brighton. He had been
talking to Annalukshmi and Kumudini and was invited to Lotus Cottage.

When she was finished speaking, Sonia asked Balendran what Nalamma had said, for she had been unable to follow her rapid Tamil. Balendran repeated the story in English. Sonia breathed out in astonishment.

“Where is he now? Where is he staying?” Nalamma asked.

He glanced at his mother. She was twisting her handkerchief between her fingers. “Here.”

Nalamma stood up quickly. “In this house? He is here now?”

“No, Amma, he has gone to the Fort. To look around Colombo a bit.”

Nalamma was silent, playing with the clasp of her handbag. “How could you not have told me?”

Balendran came to her side. “Forgive me. It was not supposed to happen in this way,” he said. “I was trying to give Seelan time to get his bearings first. If you would like to wait and see him, he should be here soon.”

For a moment, Nalamma did not reply, then she spoke. “I will go into the garden with Sonia. You can let me know when my grandson arrives.”

Nalamma started to walk towards the door and then turned back to Balendran. “You understand, we need to keep this just between us for the present. We must carefully consider how best to tell your father that his grandson is in Colombo.”

When he was alone, Balendran walked to the window, lost in thought. So, the power of his father had managed to draw his nephew to him, even before they had met.

Seelan arrived later than he was expected. Nalamma and Sonia had come in from the garden, and they were all seated in the drawing room in anxious silence when they heard the gate open. Balendran stood up and went out to his nephew so that he could prepare him for this meeting with his grandmother.

He was walking up the front path and Balendran signalled to him to stop.

Seelan took his hat off, a look of disquiet on his face as he saw his uncle’s serious expression.

“Seelan,” Balendran said as he reached him, “there is something you need to know.” Then he told him of Nalamma’s presence in the drawing room and how she had found out about him.

At first Seelan looked shocked, but Balendran quickly assured him that his grandmother was very keen to meet him and had waited a long time to do so. Yet this did little to assuage Seelan’s nervousness. As they walked up the front path, he ran his hand over his hair and straightened his tie.

When they entered the drawing room, both Nalamma and Sonia stood up. For a moment, they were all still.

Then Balendran turned to his nephew. “Seelan,” he said in Tamil. “This is your parti.” He turned back to his mother. “Amma, this is Arul’s son.”

Seelan stepped forward and held out his hand. “How do you do?” he said formally in English.

Nalamma took his hand in hers and gazed at him for a moment. “You have your father’s face,” she said, her voice hushed. “I was unable to come to him before he … but I am glad to see him living in you.” She pressed something into his hand. It was twenty rupees.

“Oh no,” Seelan said to her in Tamil. “It’s too much, I can’t take it.”

She shook her head. “You must obey. You cannot imagine what joy this gives me. You have fulfilled one of the few wishes I had left in this world. I thank you for that.”

He nodded, understanding what she meant, but unable to speak because of the mixture of emotions he felt.

That evening at dinner, after dessert was served, Balendran sat back and looked at his nephew. “I’m sure you will understand, Seelan, things are complicated. It is important to your grandmother that we choose the moment carefully when we tell your grandfather about you. In the meantime, take care where you are seen. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, maama.”

“So tell me about your visit to Lotus Cottage.”

“It was very pleasant. The sister who is married seemed interested in London and I was happy to oblige her with my experiences of the city.”

“That’s nice,” Balendran said.

“It was particularly nice to see Miss Annalukshmi again. I was very impressed by her during our first meeting.”

Balendran stared at his nephew, surprised. The brief conversation between Annalukshmi and his nephew in his study had obviously sparked a strong admiration. He recalled that Seelan had offered his book to Annalukshmi and he saw the gesture in a different light now. He tried to remember his niece’s reaction, but, except for her discomfort, her need for his permission that she might borrow the book, he did not recall any particular interest. She had seemed perfectly normal.

Sonia leant forward in her chair. “Seelan, you are quite taken with our niece, then?”

After a moment, he nodded.

“But if so, you must tell her who you really are.”

“Yes,” Balendran said. “Consider what I told you before. Do you really think she would shun you?”

“Why shouldn’t she? If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t want her associating with a low-caste man.”

Sonia and Balendran stared at their nephew, aghast.

“Seelan,” Sonia said after a moment, “I’m sure I speak for your uncle when I say that we would find it difficult to condone such a deceit.”

He looked away from them. “Once she has got to know me, once she has come to like me for who I am, I will tell her.”

Sonia sat back in her chair. She glanced at Balendran and shook her head imperceptibly.

Seelan retired to bed early. Sonia and Balendran sat in the drawing room in silence. After a while, she turned to her husband. “Your nephew,” she said, “what do we really know about him?”

“He is decent man, Sonia,” Balendran answered. “During my time in India, it was clear he was a devoted son. It cannot be easy for him to be completely responsible for his mother’s welfare now. Yet he bears his load without a murmur of complaint.”

“Still, I worry. I’m concerned about Annalukshmi. I do hope his intentions are honourable.”

From his wanderings yesterday, Seelan knew that Cargills had a good bookshop and, the next day, he made his way back to it.

The bookshop was in a corner of the department store, enclosed on three sides by bookcases, a gap between two of them providing an entrance.

As Seelan made his way to the literature section, he stopped in surprise. Annalukshmi was standing by one of the shelves, reading. He straightened his tie and walked towards her.

At the sound of his approaching footsteps, Annalukshmi looked up. “Dr. Govind,” she said in surprise. She had spoken too loudly and other people turned to look at her.

Seelan smiled. “Good morning, Miss Annalukshmi. How are you?”

“Very well, Dr. Govind.”

They were both silent, not knowing what to say next. She held up a copy of Jane Austen’s
Mansfield Park
. “Are you familiar with this book?”

“Ah, dear Jane Austen. One of my very favourite writers.” He took another copy of the book from the shelf and began to look through it.

At that moment, Manohari walked in with her parcel. When she saw Dr. Govind, she stopped in surprise. “Good morning,” he said and bowed.

Manohari nodded back.

“Have you decided yet, akka?”

“I’m not sure.”

“The car is probably waiting. You know how impatient he gets if we’re not there when he arrives.”

Seelan cleared his throat. “If you will allow me, I would like to buy it for you, Miss Annalukshmi.”

Annalukshmi and Manohari were taken aback.

“Oh no, Dr. Govind, that’s quite all right.” Annalukshmi quickly put the copy of
Mansfield Park
back on the shelf.

She indicated to Manohari. They nodded goodbye and started to walk away.

Seelan placed his hand on Annalukshmi’s arm. “Please,” he said.

She drew in her breath and moved her arm away, as if his touch had scorched her. She and Manohari stared at him, not knowing what to make of his indiscretion, too shocked to be even outraged.

Seelan flushed deeply, losing his composure. He had been unseemly. He looked down and then, after a moment, lifted his gaze to them. His eyes were bright, almost tearful, with appeal. “Please,” he said softly.

They did not say anything, and he, taking this as their acquiescence, hurried away to the counter.

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