The India Fan (33 page)

e shall be staying in Bombay for a while,Alice told him. ut I believe that our employer may travel round a bit, so we might well find ourselves in Delhi.

t would please me very much if you did,he said.

He knew, of course, to whom we were going. Fabian, it appeared, was well known to him.

ou must know India well,said Alice.

y dear Miss Philwright, I don know anyone who is not a native of the country who knows India well. I often wonder what goes on in the minds of the natives. I don think anyone can be sure any European, that is.

He talked vividly. He made us want to see the lush, green country, the big houses with their lawns dominated by the spreading banyan trees, the stately pipal and feathery tamarind, but most of all to see the people the mixed races, the several castes, the customshich were so different from our own.

have a feeling that many of them resent our presence,he told us, lthough the more sensible of them know that we bring trade and a better style of living. But intruders are never popular.

ow deeply do they resent foreigners?

hat is something we cannot be sure of. We are dealing with an inscrutable race. Many of them consider themselves to be more civilized than we are and they resent the intrusion of our foreign ways.

nd yet they endure you.

Tom Keeping smiled at me wryly. sometimes wonder for how long.

ou mean they might turn you out?

hey couldn do that, but they might try.

hat would be dreadful.

ou express it mildly, Miss Delany. But what a topic! India is safe in the hands of the Company.

I shall never forget our time in Aden. It was brief. We were only stopping for a few hours, but Tom Keeping said he would take us for a short drive.

How menacing it seemed as we sailed towards it. The black cliffs rising starkly out of the sea seemed to threaten us.

We were on deck, Alice and I, with Tom Keeping beside us.

t looks as though we are sailing into the gates of hell,Alice remarked.

ou feel that, do you? Do you know what they say of this place? That Cainho slew Abels buried here, and that since such a notorious murderer was lain here, the atmosphere of the place has changed. It has become evil.

could well believe that,I said. ut I imagine it was rather gloomy before.

o one has left word to tell us so,replied Tom Keeping. nd I think the story got about because it has such a forbidding aspect.

h, I certainly believe legends attach themselves to things and places because they seem to fit,said Alice.

The few hours we spent in Aden were very pleasant. We were under the protection of Tom Keeping and I was glad of it. Alice seemed to be changing. She looked younger. I thought: Can it be that she is falling in love with Tom Keeping?

They talked a great deal together and sometimes I felt like an intruder. It was strange. Alice was the last person, I would have thought, who would have allowed herself to be taken by romantic storm. Perhaps I exaggerated. Just because two people obviously liked each other, that was no reason to conclude that they were contemplating marriage. Alice was far too sensible to take a shipboard friendship seriously, and I was sure Tom Keeping was, too. No. It was just that their personalities were congenial. They struck me as two of the most sensible people I had ever known; quite different from Lavinia and her bogus Comte.

Tom Keeping told us that he would make his way by land from Bombay to Delhi. Travelling was not easy in India. There was no railroad and therefore journeys were tedious and only taken from necessity. Doubtless he would travel by dak-ghari, a sort of carriage drawn by horses; there would be many stops en route, often in places offering inadequate comfort.

believe it was you who warned us that travelling was often uncomfortable,I said.

t is something I have learned through experience.

The sea voyage was coming to an end. There were long, warm, calm days as we crossed the Arabian Sea, and we forgot our cramped cabin, the stormy seas and the ride through the desert when we had rather mysteriously lost Monsieur Lasseur.

I noticed that Alice was growing a little sad as we were nearing our destination and I believed it was at the prospect of saying goodbye to Tom Keeping. He did not seem to be touched by the same melancholy, although I did feel he had enjoyed his friendship with us and particularly with Alice.

He had always given me the impression that he had taken on the role of protector, and I told Alice that I often thought of him as Tom Keeper rather than Tom Keeping. She laughed and said she felt the same.

And then at last we were nearing the end of our long journey.

I was excited by the prospect of seeing Lavinia again and perhaps at some time Fabian. I wondered how I should feel about Dougal. Whichever way I looked at it, I knew it would be far from dull.

ou will be met, I am sure,said Tom Keeping. o the time has come for us to say our farewells.

ow long will you stay in Bombay?I asked.

nly for a day or so. I have to make arrangements to leave for Delhi immediately.

Alice was silent.

There came the last evening. In the morning we would disembark.

As we lay in our bunks that night, I asked Alice how she felt about arriving at our destination.

ell,she said rather wistfully, t really what we set out to do, isn it?

es. But the journey was an adventure in itself!

ell, it is over now. And here we are. Now we have to begin our duties.

nd remember we are no longer independent.

xactly. But work will be good for us.

wonder if we shall see Tom Keeping again.

Alice said nothing for a few moments and then, elhi is a long way from Bombay. You heard what he said about the difficulties of journeys.

t is so strange. When you travel with people you get to know them so well and then they are gone.

think,said Alice soberly, hat is something you have to accept from the start. Now we should try to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.

I knew she was afraid of betraying her feelings. Poor Alice. I thought she had begun to care for Tom Keeping. And he might have done for her if they could have remained together. But now he seemed concerned with his business. I thought of Byron lines:

Man love of man life is a thing apart

is woman whole existence. The next day we reached Bombay.

The Approaching Storm

There was bustle the next morning. I was accustomed now to these arrivals in port. People seemed to change their personalities and it was almost as though those who had been close friends for weeks now slipped back into the role of strangers. One realized that what had appeared to be a deep friendship was only a pleasant but passing acquaintance.

Poor Alice! She was aware of this, but she was a brave and sensible woman. She would never admit that she had allowed herself to entertain warm feelings towards a man whom she might never see again.

And there we were on that crowded quay.

One of the officials from the dock approached us and asked if we were Miss Delany and Miss Philwright. If so, there was a carriage waiting to take us to our destination. A few paces behind him was a most dignified Indian in a white puggaree and a long blue shirt over baggy white trousers. He ignored the official and bowed low.

ou Missie Delany?he asked.

es,I replied eagerly.

come for you and Missie Nannie.

h yes yes

Follow please.

We followed our impressive leader as he shouted orders to two coolies who appeared to be part of his entourage.

oolie bring bags … Missie follow,we were told.

And we felt that we were well and truly being treated like honoured arrivals.

A carriage was waiting. It was drawn by two grey horses, standing patiently in the care of another coolie.

Tom Keeping left us there, having more or less handed us over. I noticed that he held Alice hand firmly and seemed reluctant to let it go. I watched her smile at him unflinchingly. I liked Alice more and more as I began to know her better.

We were helped into the carriage by our gracious protector; our hand luggage was passed to us and we understood that our main baggage would be delivered in due course. Such was the outstanding presence of our man that we were confident everything would be in order.

The memory of that drive stays with me still. I suppose it was because it was my first glimpse of India.

The heat beat down on us. There were people everywhere oisy, colourful. It was quite unlike anything I had ever seen before. Small boys seemed to be darting all over the streets. I thought we would run some of them down, but our driver skilfully avoided them, although on one occasion he shouted something that sounded like a string of curses and the miscreant turned and gave him a look of intense dismay which I was not sure was due to his narrow escape or to the awfulness of the curses.

How colourful were those streetshe buildings white and dazzling and very grand; and in the side streets, of which we had a fleeting glimpse, the contrast of dark little hovels and people squatting on the pavements poor old men who seemed nothing but rags and bones, little children naked save for a loincloth, searching in the gutters for food, I imagined. I was to learn later that, however much I was impressed by the grandeur, there would almost always be the accompanying shadow of appalling poverty.

I wanted to stop and give all I had to the mother with the child in her arms and another pulling at her tattered skirts. Our driver drove furiously on, oblivious of the effect this had on us. I supposed he had seen it all so many times that he accepted it as normal.

There were stalls filled with produce, which I did not always recognize, and people in various styles of costume. I learned afterwards that they belonged to different castes and tribes: the Parsees with their umbrellas, the Brahmins, the Tamils, the Pathans and others. Darting everywhere were the coolies, presumably seeking to beg or earn a little money for some form of labour. I saw women, white-veiled, wrapped up in plain, shapeless robes, and here and there those of lower castes with their beautiful long, black hair hanging down their backs, moving with infinite grace. I thought how much more attractive they were than the purdah women, whose charms, I supposed, were kept for their masters alone.

We said little, as we were both intent on the scene about us and eager to miss nothing. We drove on for some miles and passed several beautiful houses, at length pulling up before one of these.

It was a most impressive residenceazzlingly white, surrounded by a veranda on which were two white tables and chairs. Over the tables were green-and-white sunshades.

There were steps leading to the veranda.

As we approached, white-clad servants came running out of the house. They surrounded the carriage, chattering excitedly.

Our magnificent driver descended, threw the reins to one of the servants and waved his hand, silencing the chattering servants. He then began to issue orders in a tongue we did not understand. He was immediately obeyed, which did not surprise me at all.

We mounted the steps, he marching ahead of us.

Alice whispered to me, ne feels there should be trumpets not for us, but for him.

I nodded.

We were led from the veranda into the house.

The contrast in temperature was amazing. It was almost cool. The room was large and darkish, the windows being built into recesses. I realized that this was to keep out the heat of the sun. On the wall of the room was a large fan, which I learned after was called a punkah. This was manipulated by a boy in the regulation long white shirt and baggy trousers. I imagined he had been idling, for at our approach he was on his feet, vigorously working the punkah.

The lordly one threw a scathing glance in his direction and I guessed there would be a reprimand at a more suitable moment.

issie Nannie go to room in nursery,said our gentleman. issie Delany come to Memsahib Lady Countess.

Alice looked surprised, but one of the servants immediately snatched the bag she was carrying and hurried off. Alice followed him. I was left.

ou Missie Delany. You come,I was told.

I was taken up a flight of stairs. Through one of the windows I caught sight of a courtyard. There was a pool on which lotus blossoms floated, and chairs and a table were out there, with a green and white sunshade.

We paused before a door. My guide scratched on it.

ome in,said a voice I recognized.

issie come,said the guide, smiling with the satisfaction of a hero who has triumphantly completed an almost insuperable task. bring Missie,he added.

And there was Lavinia standing before me.

rusilla!she cried.

I ran to her and we embraced. I heard the grunt of self-congratulation as the door closed on us.

oue been so long.

t is a long journey.

so glad youe come. Let me look at you. Still the same old Drusilla.

hat did you expect?

ust what I see and I glad of it. I thought you might have developed into some terrible old bluestocking. You were a little like that.

never expected you would do such a thing! Now let me look at you.

She took a few steps back, shook out her magnificent hair, which had been loosely tied back with a ribbon, turned her eyes upwards in a saintly manner and posed for me.

She was plumper, but as beautiful as ever. I had forgotten how striking she was. She was clad in a long, loose, lavender-coloured teagown and it suited her in fact, everything always suited Lavinia.

I felt that she had staged our meeting and was acting it as though it were a scene in a play and she was the heroine.

ou haven changed a bit,I said.

ell, I hope not. I work on it.

ndia suits you.

She smirked. not sure. Wee going home in two yearstime. Dougal can wait. He hates it here. He wants to go home and study some dry old thing. Dougal just doesn know how to enjoy himself.

eople don always find enjoyment in the same things.

She raised her eyes to the ceilingn old habit of hers, I remembered. rust Drusilla,she said. oue been here five minutes and the conversation has already taken a psychological turn.