Golden Girl (9 page)

‘It’s unreal, isn’t it?’ JJ said. The view was awesome. We could see the Taj Lake Palace floating in the middle of the water, the hills in the distance.

‘It’s not what I expected at all. I had no idea India was going to be so beautiful. I mean, I’d seen pictures of the Taj Mahal but this . . . this is like the best decorators
in the world got their heads together to make a work of art.’

JJ turned towards me. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ he said. ‘Do you know what I wish, though? That I could see what the people who lived here then looked like. I wish I could
travel back in time and see their faces, look into their eyes. I know there are loads of paintings around but I’d like to see them for real.’

‘I know just what you mean. I’d love to know the stories behind what went on here.’

JJ nodded. ‘That’s why I love reading the history of a place, but there’s still so much of it that won’t have been written down.’

I nodded and we sat looking out over the view for a few more minutes, both of us lost in our imaginings of how it must have been so many years ago. At last we were alone. I wanted to savour the
moment. It was a magical location, a gentle breeze wafted through the palace. It was well worth waiting for. Pia had been right. Romance was in the air. JJ put one hand around my waist and pulled
me closer to him. I felt like we were the only people in the whole world, caught in a timeless moment. He put his hand under my chin and gently lifted it. I closed my eyes ready for his kiss.

‘The architecture of the palace is a mixture of Rajasthani and Mughal styles,’ boomed a loud Indian voice behind us.

I opened my eyes and turned. A tourist group of about thirty people was standing with their guide, staring at us as though we were part of the scenery. One Japanese lady even took a photo of
us!

‘Seems like we’re
never
to get our moment alone,’ JJ laughed as he stood up, took my hand and pulled me towards the room where Ramesh, Vanya and Pia had gone.

‘Dad’s playing a big-time jewel thief,’ JJ said as we walked through another courtyard in the grounds of the City Palace. ‘They shot some of the movie
interiors in the Crystal Gallery at the Fateh Prakesh Palace hotel. It’s not far. Want to go and take a look?’

‘Love to,’ I said, but really I thought,
Boring. Traipsing around looking at a bunch of glasses
.

We found the hotel then went up to an upper floor where Alisha came to find us. I liked the Fateh Prakesh Palace. It hadn’t been modernised like the hotel we were staying in and it felt
like we were stepping back in time to the era of the great maharajas. It smelt wonderfully of beeswax, probably used to polish the wood-panelled walls.

Alisha was buzzing with excitement about the two boys she’d met.

‘Kunal and Prasad,’ she said as we made our way down a dark wooden corridor. ‘Prasad’s the one I like and I think he likes me too.’

‘Long distance love affair? Is that a good idea?’ asked Pia.

‘They’re both at school in England, back here for the holidays,’ she replied. ‘Yay . . . Whoa! Wow. Get a load of this!’ She stopped and stared around the room
we’d just entered. It was full of the most beautiful glassware: bowls, decanters, glasses and mirrors but not just those, there was actual furniture chiselled from crystal: sofas, a bed, a
table, a throne and foot-stool, a dressing table.

‘They’re like exquisite ice sculptures,’ I said. ‘Imagine the work that went into making them.’ Some of the pieces were carved in pale green glass, some in a
delicate translucent pink. It was like walking into the white witch’s palace in Narnia but this wasn’t fantasy, it was reality. As we continued to explore room after room full of glass
artefacts, chandeliers and furniture, we were joined by Ramesh who had come with us.

‘In these rooms is the largest private collection of crystal in the world,’ said Ramesh, as we paused to look at a vast glass dining table laid with a dinner service for what looked
like dozens of guests.

‘How old is it?’ asked Pia.

‘Over one hundred years,’ Ramesh replied. ‘It was ordered from the F and C Osler company in Birmingham, England by Maharaja Sajjan Singh who began his reign in 1874 but sadly
died ten years later. He never got to see it completed.’

‘None of it?’ I asked.

Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam, and neither did anyone else. On its arrival in India, it was immediately packed away in boxes underground.’

I looked from JJ to Pia and Alisha. ‘Forgotten,’ I said, in disbelief. ‘But it must be priceless.’

‘Yes, madam. It only came to light in recent years and then the head of the Mewar royal family, Shriji Arvind Singh Mewar, decided that this great treasure should be shared with the world
and this gallery was opened in 1994.’

‘Wow,’ said Pia as we looked at a glass wardrobe in one room. ‘Imagine finding treasure like this in your basement! How amazing to think this stuff was just packed away in a
cellar. It’s so beautiful. Each piece is a work of art.’

‘This whole place is,’ I added.

‘Can you buy any of it?’ asked Alisha.

Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam.’

‘Shame,’ said Alisha. ‘I’d love to have that pale pink dressing table.’

‘Money can’t buy everything, sis,’ said JJ. ‘It’s a real honour for the film crew to be allowed to film here.’

‘It is indeed,’ said Ramesh. ‘And this evening, I believe they will be shooting a scene in the Darbar Hall below.’

We made our way out of the final gallery back into the corridor, from where we could see through scalloped arches into a hall below.

‘These would have been the viewing galleries for the royal ladies,’ said JJ. ‘Isn’t that right, Ramesh?’

Ramesh nodded. ‘You are correct, sir. Such places are to be found in palaces all over India, often with a lattice screen or silk curtains so the women could stand and observe what was
happening in court but not be seen.’

‘Cool,’ said Alisha. ‘A chance to spy on the guys. I like it.’

For a moment, I imagined myself as a princess hundreds of years ago, gazing down at the colourful spectacle in the hall. Chandeliers shaped like giant dewdrops hung from the high ceiling, while
portraits, presumably of previous rulers of Udaipur, lined the walls, as well as a display of ancient swords and other weapons.

‘It looks like it hasn’t changed for centuries,’ I said as, in my mind, bejewelled princes lounged about on silk cushions, drinking tea or reading by the light of one of the
many antique lamps.

‘Apart from all the film equipment,’ said JJ.

I followed his gaze and saw that dozens of silver metal boxes of various sizes were stacked on one side of the hall. They contained all the equipment needed to film the next sequence. A team of
electricians were busy adjusting lights which hung from a complex arrangement of scaffolding that almost filled one wall. Others were rearranging furniture, hiding cables, adjusting light
reflectors and generally making everything ready for the actors. Many of them were speaking into radios or mobile phones.

‘It was a banqueting hall, wasn’t it?’ JJ asked.

‘It was, sir,’ said Ramesh, ‘and today is still used for weddings, meetings and parties.’

‘I’d like to get married here,’ said Alisha.

‘Better find a husband first,’ said JJ. ‘Typical you. Pick the venue before the man.’

Alisha stuck out her bottom lip. ‘Mom and Dad are always telling us that to be a winner in life, you have to be prepared, know what you want and where you’re going, yeah?’

JJ scoffed. ‘You’d better find a guy first.’

Alisha sighed. ‘Yeah. If only. It’s not for lack of trying, you know.’

‘You’re too fussy,’ said JJ. ‘You want Mr Perfect.’

I gave her arm a squeeze. I knew the fact that she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend was a sore point for her.

‘But things are looking up since this morning. I really like Prasad,’ she said.

‘Does he know you’re checking out wedding venues already, Miss Fusspot?’ asked JJ. ‘Jeez, Alisha. You only met him today.’

‘You
so
don’t get me, JJ,’ she said.

‘Tell us more about the movie,’ I said, trying to change the subject before they started squabbling.

‘Tell us about the boys later,’ I heard Pia whisper to Alisha.

Behind JJ’s back, I saw Alisha throw a mock punch at him.

‘It’s a period thriller. Dad plays the part of a Robin Hood type character who robs from the rich to give to the poor. In the case of old India, to the untouchables.’

At the mention of the untouchables, I saw Ramesh’s face flash with interest but he didn’t say anything.

‘They’re not shooting a long scene this evening, but it’s an important one that links all the others,’ said Alisha. ‘It’s where the Maharaja’s daughter
spots Dad’s character in the palace.’

‘Shreya’s playing that part, isn’t she?’ I asked and JJ nodded.

‘Who are the untouchables?’ asked Pia.

‘Haven’t you heard of the caste system?’ asked JJ.

Pia nodded. ‘Yes. It’s something like the class system in our country, isn’t it, Ramesh?’

Ramesh paused before answering as if carefully considering his words. ‘There were four castes,’ he told us. ‘First the Brahmin caste who were priests and teachers, then the
Kshatriyas who were the rulers, warriors and soldiers, next came the Vaisyas, the farmers, workers, merchants and artisans, fourth came the Sudras who were the labourers and unskilled
workers.’

‘But what about the untouchables?’ Pia insisted. ‘Where did they fit?’

Ramesh sighed. ‘They didn’t, madam. The untouchables were considered the lowest of the low. They were the outcasts of society. For instance, if a Brahmin even accidentally touched
one of them, he would have to bathe to remove the pollution.’

‘Wow, that’s harsh,’ said Alisha. ‘Sounds as bad or even worse than how slaves were treated back home.’

‘And the system’s been abolished?’ I asked. ‘Please say yes.’

‘Oh yes. It was abolished by the government in the 1960s, though some say that the roots are so deeply entrenched in Indian history and society that it is still apparent. Mahatma Ghandi
did much for the abolition and he renamed the untouchables the children of God.’

‘That sounds way better than outcast,’ said Pia.

‘Seems mad to me,’ said JJ. ‘I mean, prick anyone’s skin and they bleed. Everyone has feelings and every society has good and bad people which is nothing to do with what
caste or race they were born into.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ramesh, ‘but in this country, progress is slow. To call anyone an untouchable is now considered wrong, politically incorrect, and in fact, there is a woman who
was born an untouchable and is now a respected figure in our parliament. That could never have happened before but it will still take time for the old prejudices to disappear completely.’

‘It’s a bit like where we live,’ I said. ‘Some people insist they are working class, others upper. But it’s not really about class any more, it’s money
that’s the real divide between the haves and the have nots.’

Pia was looking at me with a strange expression. I glanced at JJ and Alisha and wondered if I shouldn’t have said that, but it made me sad to think that some people were seen as outcasts
just because of a system they were born into.

It’s a mad world
, I thought. Back at home, I saw how at Number 1, Porchester Park, the residents were super rich while not a few metres away, sitting outside in a shop doorway, was
Eddie, the homeless man who only had a cardboard box to sleep in. People often walked away from him when they saw him asking for money.
Maybe things haven’t changed
that much
, I
thought. I also realised how little I knew about this country I was visiting and vowed to read up about India more when I got home.

‘I agree,’ said JJ. ‘That’s why I want to be a lawyer. See what I can give back.’ His phone bleeped that he had a message. He glanced at it. ‘Shreya,’
he said, then grimaced. ‘Wants to know where we are.’

‘We?’ I asked with mock surprise.

JJ pulled a face. ‘Jess, I need to talk to you about Shreya.’

My stomach knotted uncomfortably but I didn’t let my anxiety show on my face. ‘Yes?’

Before he got a chance to say any more, a vision appeared at the end of the corridor. We all did a double-take. Shreya was dressed in her costume for the movie – a ruby-encrusted red silk
sari, gold earrings and nose ring, her eyes darkened with kohl. A string of tiny pearls shone in her hair and diamond and gold bangles sparkled on her wrists and ankles. She looked incredible,
every inch a princess. It was as if she’d stepped out of one of the ancient family portraits that lined the room. She stopped and posed for a moment, well aware of the impact she was having,
then grinned and waved at us all before doing a little twirl.

‘Hey,’ she called. ‘What do you think?’

‘Stunning,’ I said and I meant it.

She swished her way towards us, her jewels tinkling as she walked. ‘I’m ready, so everyone else better had be. You guys going to come and watch?’ she asked, but her question
was directed at JJ.

Before anyone could answer, Mrs Lewis appeared behind us. ‘Oh, there you all are. Quickly, come with me,’ she said. ‘The director’s found a place we can watch where
we’ll be out of the way. We’re very lucky to be allowed, but you must keep completely silent, so no talking. OK?’