by Adithi Rao
Tessie’s parents had their own reservations as well. They felt the difference in the social standing of the two families, and the disparities in wealth and lifestyles. They feared that their daughter would find it difficult to fit into a world where the number of carats in a woman’s diamond ring determined the respect she merited. And who knew whether Robert, beyond that charming smile and pleasing manner, might turn out to be not unlike his parents?
Still, for Tessie’s sake, they welcomed him into their home and treated him kindly. Over time, they found him to be so genuinely modest and affectionate that they came to love him as a son rather than a future son-in-law. Whenever they were obliged to interact with his people, they did so with warmth, although they received very little of it in return. Robert made no apology for his parents, and Tessie’s people expected none. The parents were a part of Robert, they came with the territory; Tessie and her folks accepted them as such.
Wilma and John believed that their son could do a lot better than Tessie. But they were clever enough to realize the inevitability of the match, and refrain from expressing their opinion on the subject, except behind their bedroom door. Robert had always been respectful towards them, in spite of having a nature so different from theirs. They didn’t want to risk losing it by open confrontation. Wilma knew, without having to be told, that Robert was most sincerely attached to Tessie; if pushed into making a choice, he would choose the girl. So she held her peace and played her part, if not with grace then with forbearance.
Wilma could speak pleasantly to Tessie’s parents while making it clear that they were her inferior. Her niceness always came off as an act of charity. If what can’t be cured must be endured, then Wilma knew how to turn a situation from mere endurance into advantageous. She believed that by allowing this match, she would bring Tessie permanently into her debt and thus oblige her to defer to Wilma in all matters henceforth. Moreover, the girl was exceptionally pretty and would make a good impression on the wives of John’s golfing friends whom Wilma associated with closely. She could just see herself wearing her elegant rose-coloured gown and pale pink pearls, circulating among her guests introducing Tessie to them. She could picture the jaw on Mrs Cully’s vacuous face drop open, the envy on Mrs Yesuraja’s, and the honest admiration on Mrs Hayward’s intelligent one. The thought made Wilma’s heart do a little jig. She knew that once Tessie and Robert were married, the girl would have to be weaned away from her people as quickly as possible. Her baker parents could simply not be included on the guest list of the many elegant parties the Fosters threw. Of course, they would have to be endured at the baptisms of the future grandchildren and other such occasions, but Wilma was confident that she could keep them in their place when the time came.
She was doing it now, or thought she was, as she waited on the platform for the Bombay superfast express to arrive. Her husband was by her side along with Tessie’s parents, Peter and Ruth. Six large suitcases stood scattered around their little group. Atop the largest suitcase were two hockey sticks of the finest quality, neatly wrapped to protect them from damage during the journey.
‘It is so good of you to move to Bombay with Rob. He will need your support very much,’ said Peter. He and his wife were dressed simply, sensibly, and their unfashionable warmth was heartening to anyone who associated with them. Only the senior Fosters had managed to remain immune.
‘I was just afraid that while he’s busy with training and try-outs there wouldn’t be anyone there to look after him,’ came Wilma’s reply, somehow managing to convey an accusation even through those innocuous words. Happily, Ruth was not getting it at all.
‘His diet is very important,’ she agreed seriously. ‘And there’s nothing like food cooked at home and by one’s own mother,’ she added.
‘But that’s only until Tessie finishes her final exams and they get married. After that he’s her responsibility. John and I are coming straight back to Austinpet,’ said Wilma.
Ruth’s smile faltered a little. Suddenly what Wilma had been trying to convey became clear to her. She felt unnerved by the other woman’s domineering presence.
‘In our day and age,’ said John Foster, strolling away to the edge of the platform to get a better look at the signal, ‘young girls did not hold up their own weddings just to sit for an exam. But then, young girls didn’t go out and find their own men to marry either.’
Ruth’s smile faded completely. Wilma laughed a tinkling laugh. ‘Oh John, your age is over! You are an old man now and children do things differently these days!’
Peter put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. ‘You’re right, Wilma. Things are different now,’ he said with quiet dignity, and left it at that.
‘The signal is down, darling, the light has turned green,’ said John to his wife. ‘The train will come in any minute now.’ Raising his voice, he called, ‘Rob! Robert! Come along, son. Say your goodbyes, it’s almost time to go!’
Further down the platform, Robert took Tessie’s hand in his. ‘The tournament begins in a week. Is that enough time for you to settle into the new house and join your team there for the pre-match training?’ she asked, looking up at him. He was so tall, and she so tiny beside him.
‘Just about,’ he assured her. ‘Mama and Papa will see to things so I can concentrate on training.’
There were many more things to say, but neither of them said it. How much they loved each other, how they would miss each other, conveyed so little at a time like this that it seemed a waste of words. From a distance, the approaching train blew its horn.
‘Tessie,’ said Rob with sudden urgency, ‘study hard. I want you to do well in your exams. You’ve always wanted to become a teacher, and you’ll make a really good one. As soon as we’re married, I want you to begin your teacher’s training.’
She smiled through her tears and said teasingly, ‘And if I don’t want to become a teacher?’
‘Then don’t. But I know you want to, more than anything in the world.’
She raised her hand which was locked with his and said, ‘This is what I want more than anything in the world. Everything else comes second.’
The train was pulling up alongside the platform, and Rob’s hand tightened over hers. They looked at each other in silence, then he turned away, leading her over to join their parents.
Tessie’s mother embraced Rob, and Peter shook his hand warmly.
‘Goodbye, Tessie,’ said Wilma. ‘I hope you spend the next few months learning to cook and keep house. It will take a lot to make my son happy.’
From behind them, Rob said gruffly, ‘She already makes me happy. And I’d much rather she spends her time studying for her exams.’ Wilma masked her irritation with a cool smile, while Robert quickly hoisted the heavy suitcases onto the train one after the other; the train halted at the Austinpet station for just a minute.
The parents said goodbye to each other, and the senior Fosters boarded the first-class compartment of the Bombay superfast. The guard blew the whistle, and Robert shouldered his hockey sticks. Kissing Tessie’s forehead, he smiled down at her. ‘I can’t wait to marry you,’ he said softly. He stepped onto the train as it began moving.
Tessie stood beside her parents watching the train gather speed, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether. The green light on the signal turned red once more.
The Austinpet post office was situated in the heart of the town. The blue front doors stood hospitably open during working hours, and the lone postman, Siddiah, was in charge of all deliveries of letters and parcels. This meant that he knew every nook and cranny of Austinpet. He also knew who received letters from whom, and when the next one was due.
One morning, four months after Rob’s departure, Tessie walked in. Unlike the other Anglo-Indians, she did speak the local language, most of which she had learnt from Siddiah himself.
‘Namaskara, Siddiah Uncle,’ she called, and he looked up from sorting the mail and smiled.
‘Namaskara, Mis
s Tessie,’ he said, noticing the tiredness in her eyes.
‘Any letters for me?’ she asked hopefully, and he replied, ‘No, Miss Tessie. Nothing today also.’
Tessie tried to hide her disappointment, but Siddiah knew.
‘Your Robert hasn’t written to you in a while, no? I also noticed,’ he said, so she wouldn’t have to pretend to be cheerful anymore. Tessie shook her head.
‘I expect he’s busy, Miss Tessie. Training must be no joke,’ said Siddiah, and she brightened a little at the logic in his words.
‘You’re right, Uncle. It is very rigorous. Last week, Rob was supposed to have tried out for the national team. I don’t know if he qualified. I’m waiting for him to write to me about it.’
Siddiah’s eyes widened and he grinned broadly. ‘The national team! When you write to him, tell him we’re all waiting for him to make Austinpet proud. We’ve been hidden in this part of the world for too long. Now maybe your Rob will make us famous!’
Tessie’s face glowed and she nodded happily.
While Tessie was inside the post office, Malcolm, the twenty-five-year-old son of Tharsis and June Xavier, was sitting with his cousin Anthony, newly arrived from his hometown Rudrapura, some 200 kilometres north of Austinpet. The young men were at the tea stall outside the post office, sipping hot tea and talking.
‘I’m not liking it here, Mal,’ Anthony was saying. ‘Here you Anglo-Indians are not mixing up with other peoples. In Rudrapura, everyone is friendly. Also, food business is not interesting for me. Daddy is wanting me to be learning your catering business, but this place and this work I am not liking. I’m wanting to go back home to Rudrapura.’ Anthony spoke English with unmistakeable south Indian overtones. His way of putting things was often odd and amusing to Malcolm, who himself spoke the language flawlessly.
‘Listen Tony, just give it a try,’ counselled Malcolm as he lit up a cigarette. ‘You’ve been here only a week. Get involved a little more, try to learn the ropes. You just might find you like it.’
Anthony chuckled. ‘You know what’s the only thing I’m liking?’
‘What?’
Anthony grabbed a handful of Mal’s hair and tugged lightly at it. ‘This!’ he laughed.
‘What, hair?’ asked Malcolm incredulously. ‘Shut up, Tony! What the hell is there in that to interest you? It’s just hair!’
‘Still,’ insisted Anthony, ‘it is what I am liking. I am wanting to open saloon for gents.’
Malcolm laughed. ‘Salon you mean. Oh, just call it a barbershop!’
‘Okay, then,’ agreed Anthony placidly. ‘Barbershop.’
‘You like hair, and yet you want to cut it,’ mused Malcolm. ‘At least you intend to give people stylish haircuts, I hope?’
‘Oh no, just very short ones,’ said Anthony.
Mal realized that his cousin was speaking in earnest. He shook his head and turned to watch the street for a moment, taking a puff of his cigarette and trying to imagine what it would be like to run a barbershop in a tiny town like Rudrapura, where people lived in the present continuous at all times. As he raised his glass of tea to his lips, he saw Tessie emerge from the post office and cross the road.
‘Besides,’ Anthony went on, ‘there is being money in haircutting also. Hair never stops growing. The shorter you are cutting, the faster it is growing!’
‘Hmm,’ responded Malcolm distractedly. ‘But you’re here now. So you might as well give the catering business a shot. If it still doesn’t work out, you can go back and open your salon.’
He was watching for Tessie to walk towards them, because he had a message to convey to her. Instead, she turned and began to walk in the opposite direction. Quickly getting to his feet, he called, ‘Tessie! Tessie, just a minute!’ She stopped and turned, and waited for him with a smile on her face. ‘I’ll be right back, Tony,’ Malcolm called over his shoulder as he hurried towards the waiting girl. Anthony turned to see whom Mal was talking to. His eyes fell on Tessie, and everything inside him went still. It all just went still. He felt something powerful happen within his heart at that moment. It was a feeling that would remain for the rest of his life.
While Anthony was going through these life-changing emotions, Malcolm was saying to Tessie, ‘I have a message for your parents from Daddy. He asked if they could come in to the office sometime this week and sit with him on the menu for your wedding reception. It’s only a month away and the items haven’t been finalized yet.’
The two of them had known each other since childhood, studied in the same school, danced at the Otter’s Club, watched the same movies. Though they had never become close, they shared the comfort of old acquaintances.
‘Of course, Malcolm. What time?’ asked Tessie.
‘Anytime between 9 and 6, any day.’
She nodded, and the sunlight reflected in her shining, brown hair. Speaking about her wedding brought a glow to her eyes, and Malcolm thought what a lovely girl she was, and what a beautiful couple she and Rob made.
‘Thanks, Mal,’ said Tessie and left. Malcolm joined his cousin again. He saw Anthony looking at Tessie’s retreating figure and caught the expression of awe on his face. He frowned, then grinned to himself. He sat down on the bench next to Anthony and lit another cigarette, shielding the flaming matchstick with his cupped hand.
‘Austinpet is not so bad after all, eh Tony?’ he asked casually, and Anthony jumped.
‘Umm?’ he said and turned to his cousin with dazed eyes.
Malcolm laughed outright and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Forget it, man!’ he said good-naturedly. ‘She’s getting married next month.’
Anthony tried, without success, to not understand what Malcolm was saying. This made the other fellow laugh even harder. His laughter was so infectious that Anthony smiled sheepishly and turned away.
A week later, Tessie was sitting in her room trying to read a book. The exams were long over and the results were due any day now. Her parents approached the door of her room and stood watching worriedly for a moment before they entered. She looked up from her book, and both Ruth and Peter were pained by the sadness she was trying so hard to hide behind her smile. The girl was pale and thin. They had watched her this past month push the tiny portions of food around on her plate before giving up and relegating them to the street corner, from where Kappu the mongrel obligingly gulped it all down. Now Ruth’s heart smote her, for she knew that the question she was about to ask would only cause her daughter more pain.
‘Tess, darling, we must talk to you,’ said Ruth, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. Peter remained standing by the door. At her mother’s words, Tessie’s pretence at normalcy fell away. She shook her head mutely, as if by doing so she could deny the reality of the situation, turn it into the opposite of what it was.
Her mother gazed at her unhappily, and again Tessie shook her head. Ruth’s eyes filled with tears and Peter stepped forward saying gently but firmly, ‘No, Tessie. We can’t put this off any longer. Has there been any word from Rob?’
‘Yes,’ replied Tessie.
The parents exchanged a glance. Ruth took Tessie’s hand. ‘Don’t lie to us, darling. The wedding is just three weeks away and all the arrangements have been made. If there’s a problem, we need to know now.’
Tessie looked at her mother in silence.
‘Darling, what it is? He hasn’t written to you in a long time, has he?’ asked Ruth.
Still Tessie said nothing.
‘How long?’ asked her mother anxiously.
‘Two months.’
‘But that’s imposs… You read us a letter from him a month ago!’ cried Ruth.
‘I made that up,’ said Tessie in a dead sort of way. Both parents went silent. Finally, Peter asked, ‘Do you have a way to get in touch with him?’
Tessie didn’t, and Peter went to stand by the window, trying to collect his thoughts so he’d be able to figure out what to do.
‘I’ll request my friend Michael Terence in Bombay t
o go across to their house and talk to them, see what’s going on. Give me their address.’
Tessie leaned across and opened her bedside drawer from which she withdrew an envelope containing one of Rob’s old letters. On it was his return address. She handed it to her father, knowing, in that knowing part of herself, that this search would yield nothing.
At around ten in the morning a few days later, the doorbell rang. Out in the living room, Peter had been reading his newspaper, waiting. He got up and opened the door for Siddiah. Tessie was in her bedroom. Through the closed door, she could hear her mother’s quick footsteps come out into the hall, and Peter’s muffled voice rise and fall for a little while. Tessie remained where she was. Strangely, she felt no curiosity about what the telegram from Mr Terence might have said.
A few minutes later, the door knob turned and a shaft of light entered the darkened room around which the thick drapes had been drawn. Peter stood there silhouetted in the doorway, the telegram in his hand. He saw his daughter lying curled up on her side. For a moment he thought she might be asleep, and knew a second of relief. Then his vision adjusted to the dimness. With a tiny start he made out her dark eyes watching him steadily. Slowly, he went to stand by her bed.
