‘It’s an ancient building and it’s slowly rotting. Pieces do break off from time to time, but I would have thought the temple roof secure enough.’
‘Now we know, it isn’t,’ she said a little too brightly. ‘But I don’t think I was in any real danger. The rock fell a good yard in front of me. I’m afraid I got stupidly scared and jumped on my bike and rode without thinking. I’m sorry I frightened your horse.’
‘Gertie is a good girl. Not much upsets her. But why were you there alone and at this time of the day? You should stay out of the midday sun, hasn’t Gerald told you?’
‘Yes,’ she said miserably, remembering for the first time that morning what had driven her from home. ‘But I had to get out of the house and the temple was so beautiful the last time I saw it and I thought it wouldn’t take long to reach. But it did and by the time I got there, the sun was too high in the sky.’
‘I think you must be finding life in Jasirapur very tedious.’ He weighed his words before he continued. ‘There is little for ladies to do here in the hot season—that’s why Simla is so popular. Perhaps you should have gone after all.’
She didn’t answer, for her mind was elsewhere and in a burst of confidence, she said, ‘Something unpleasant happened this morning. That’s why I needed to get out of the bungalow.’
‘More unpleasantness? You have been suffering.’
She wanted to confide in someone and Anish was a close friend of Gerald’s. She thought he might already know something of his brother officer’s difficulties and could give her sensible advice.
‘Is army life very expensive?’ she began.
The question appeared to disconcert him. It was evidently not what he’d been expecting. ‘It depends on what you mean by army life.’
‘For young officers, I was thinking.’
‘There are certainly a good many expenses when you join the regiment. And the cavalry is one of the most expensive in which to serve. There’s quite a lot that needs money. New uniforms, new equipment, gratuities to servants, that kind of thing.’
‘I see.’ There was a pause before she murmured, ‘But don’t most of those debts get paid from salary within a year or two?’
He frowned. ‘What is this, Daisy?’
She looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her fingers. ‘It’s Gerald,’ she confessed. ‘He seems to be in debt.’
‘Everyone is,’ Anish responded cheerfully. ‘An overdraft is normal. Unfortunately the Indian Army still has the attitude that young officers have private means, but nowadays that’s true of only a few.’
‘So Gerald isn’t alone?’
‘No.’ His tone was cautious. ‘Not alone. The temptation to spend is great, particularly if you’re new to the regiment, or maybe if your background is slightly different. You have to fit in, you see.’
She felt his gaze keen, enquiring. Did he know the secret of Gerald’s double identity and was he wondering if she knew too? She hoped he wouldn’t broach the subject, and was relieved when he went on, ‘In the Mess you need to be seen to be generous. Anyone who is—shall we say careful with money—is treated with scorn. That doesn’t mean you can get into serious debt, of course, but—’
‘But?’
‘Gerald has probably been a little more generous than most. And then he may have tried to salvage the situation, recoup some of the money he owes, and that’s landed him in more trouble.’
‘How could he recoup the money?’
‘Oh, you know,’ Anish said vaguely. ‘This and that.’
Jocelyn’s words sounded loudly in her ears. ‘You mean gambling.’
Her companion looked uncomfortable. ‘Yes, but everyone does it. The Mess is one enormous gambling den. It’s a matter of degree.’ There was a pause while Anish drank down his chai. ‘This shouldn’t be worrying you. All young officers have debts and, as long as they don’t default, everything’s fine.’
But everything wasn’t fine, far from it. ‘There were some men,’ she faltered, ‘they came to the house this morning looking for Gerald. They handed me bills they said he owed money on.’
Anish whistled. ‘That’s not good, I agree. Credit is easy to come by and the town’s tradesmen are in competition with each other. But the moment one of the blighters starts pressing for his money, it’s not long before the others join in.’
He saw her appalled expression and patted her hand. ‘Don’t fret. You won’t suffer the entire bazaar descending on you, I promise. Gerald is sure to clear the debts very soon and as long as he does before it reaches the Colonel’s ears, it won’t be a problem.’
That was less than comforting, she thought. ‘What would happen if the Colonel knew?’
‘Gerald would get a severe dressing down and be ordered to pay immediately. Honouring your bills is all important. If you don’t pay your debts, you let the regiment down, you see. Mess bills must be paid by the seventh of the month, no remission, though tradesmen can be made to wait.’
‘These tradesmen aren’t waiting.’
‘You must trust Gerald to sort it out,’ he said soothingly. ‘And remember that a lot of the officers live as though they have the means when they don’t. They live on credit.’
‘And what about you, Anish? Do you live like that?’
‘I can’t afford to.’ The smile did not quite reach his eyes.
She looked puzzled. ‘But surely—your pay—aren’t you the same rank as Gerald?’
‘I am an Indian Commissioned Officer and that makes a difference. We’re supposed to be treated the same as British officers. That’s the theory. But we’re not paid the same so it really wouldn’t be sensible to get into debt. British officers are serving away from home and receive an additional allowance but we’re reckoned not to need it because we serve in our home country.’
‘That seems a little unfair. Doesn’t it make Indian officers resentful?’
‘Some. But it’s largely unexpressed. Indian officers in British regiments are still on probation and it’s not a good idea to voice criticisms too loudly.’
He’d said nothing that suggested his frustration, yet she knew he must feel it. ‘Why are you on probation? Gerald told me there are more and more Indian officers in regiments like his.’
‘I used the wrong word. And he’s correct. There used only to be two Indian officers to each regiment but now you see nearly as many brown faces as white. It’s still wise to walk cautiously, though.’
Once before, she’d had the impression that beneath Anish’s calm façade lay a different man. But he was smiling again and this time she thought the smile was genuine. ‘We should be glad of small mercies. Before the Indian Military Academy was set up at Dehra Dun, it was very different. But the IMA changed all that. We learned there how to be little Englishmen or rather public school Englishmen. They taught us all that school stuff: our word must be our bond, we must own up to our faults, take punishment without a grudge and of course endure hardship without complaint—the stiff upper lip. What a wonderful phrase that is!’
‘So you are all sahibs now.’ She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. They were trivial and thoughtless. Anish must feel the discriminations of army life deeply and here she was, joking about them.
But he seemed not to mind. ‘Not quite. We’ve come a long way and it can only get better. But what the IMA doesn’t teach you is how to cope with the rules that aren’t written down. Military life has some pretty strange quirks to it.’
‘It’s not just me, then, that thinks so?’ She was relieved they’d found mutual ground again.
‘Not at all. There are too many contradictions to count, shades of meaning that a newcomer will never fathom.’
‘Tell me some.’
‘Let’s see.’ He tipped his head to one side. ‘On no account must a young officer be bumptious.’ He sprang up from his chair and puffed his chest out to ludicrous proportions, his face one of perfect superiority. Daisy smiled broadly.
‘But on the other han
d, he mustn’t be dull. That means he has to work hard at coming up with casual remarks that amuse. The kind of comment that’s deliberately offhand but designed to catch attention—my cook fell into the porridge this morning—that sort of thing.’
She started to giggle.
‘And, of course, he must never, ever wear brown shoes with a black suit!’ His face pulled itself into an expression of horror.
She couldn’t stop herself from laughing aloud but when he sat down, his voice was serious. ‘It’s silly, I know, but it has consequences that aren’t so silly. If a man lives his life entirely within the regiment, he never has contact with an India that’s real.’
She thought she knew exactly what he meant and would have liked to tell him, but struggled to find the words.
‘If you’ve finished your chai,’ he was saying, ‘I must be getting you back. Gerald will be home for lunch and you need some looking after.’
‘Not really,’ she protested, thinking it was unlikely Gerald would concern himself. She got up and followed him over the road to the shady tree where Gertie was lazily flicking her tail. ‘I’m fine now. I was being stupid. It was the heat as much as anything. It always is.’
‘So you make a habit of having large rocks nearly fall on your head?’
‘No, but I don’t make a habit of keeping a cobra in the bathroom either, and I seem to have survived that shock pretty well.’
She was watching his face for a reaction but he didn’t seem surprised. ‘They get everywhere,’ he said placidly. ‘But I can see it must have been frightening. I wonder you didn’t turn tail and run for the hills.’
‘I was tempted, but then Grayson took me to visit the temple and it was so beautiful and serene that I forgot how scared I’d been. I know Simla is part of India, too, and it’s true I’ve never seen the town, but somehow it’s this place that seems truer.’
‘That’s because it is. We are in a princely state, part of a proud and ancient land.’ He was looking at her curiously. ‘Have you travelled much, Daisy?’
‘Not at all. Until I came here, I’d never been beyond London.’
‘And you like being in India?’
‘It’s strange and wonderful but, yes, I like being here. It isn’t my home but in an odd way, it feels as though it is. I’m happy—but I’d be even happier if the weather weren’t so brutal.’
‘I agree, it’s a misery, even for Indians, but in a few weeks it will be gone. The monsoon will come and then you will see the land bloom again.’
Gertie turned her head and gave them an impatient look. ‘She’s ready to leave, I think,’ Daisy laughed, putting her left foot into Anish’s hand and allowing herself to be tossed into the saddle once more.
He gathered the reins into his hands. ‘I’m glad you like Rajputana,’ he said softly, ‘but I wish you’d gone to Simla.’
Gerald was standing on the veranda when they arrived looking irritated. ‘There you are. I was starting to worry. Rajiv had no idea where you’d gone.’
She felt a small pang of guilt, since this time she’d fled the house without leaving a clue to her whereabouts. Anish helped her down from the horse and thankfully she planted her feet on solid ground once more. At that moment, she chanced to look up and saw the two men exchange a look. It was no more than a glance but it signalled a private understanding to which she was not privy. She knew what they were thinking though: they’re worried I’m unstable, that I’m not coping well with the climate, that I’ve gone slightly mad.
‘There’s a bicycle to collect.’ Anish grimaced at his friend. ‘Daisy fell off.’ She was glad he didn’t mention the state he’d found her in. ‘I think we should encourage her to ride, but a horse not a bike.’
‘I’m not sure I could even stay in the saddle,’ Daisy intervened. That was no exaggeration. Her fingers were numb from frantically clutching at Gertie’s mane.
‘Don’t look so worried. A few practice rides and you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you.’
‘Thank you, Anish, but—’
‘We’ll start small, walking the horses the first few times we go out.’ He was not to be deterred. ‘And we’ve plenty of land to walk in. Then once you’re feeling more confident, we can venture further afield. Maybe head for the river. I’m sure you’d like it there and it makes for a good ride—as long as we leave first thing in the morning.’
‘But the horse …’ Daisy was looking for a way to escape.
‘Leave that to me. There are several in the regimental stables that will be fine. Nice docile ladies, happy enough to plod quietly along while you learn. What do you think, Gerald?’
‘It’s an excellent idea. Daisy will need to ride sooner or later. But it will have to wait until she gets back. She’s going up to Simla in a day or so.’
Anish looked across at his friend, clearly surprised. ‘That’s even better. Much easier to learn in the cool season. But don’t forget, Daisy, we have a date when you get back from the hills.’
Her mind was spinning from Gerald’s pronouncement, but Anish was about to remount and she must say goodbye. She held out her hand to him. ‘Thank you for rescuing me.’
‘You rescued yourself, but I was glad to be on the road.’
She walked back into the house, trying not to feel angry but hating Gerald’s high handedness. He’d had no right to tell Anish that she was leaving Jasirapur. She had been wavering on the brink of agreeing but she’d made no decision. At the bathroom door, she scanned the floor before going in. She could never enter this room without her heart giving a small lurch. She splashed her face with water and patted it dry on the thin, cotton towel. Raising her head, she saw her face in the mirror. Her eyes still had a hunted look. She was not easily going to forget today’s fright. The more she thought of it, the more she was sure that someone was trying to scare her. And succeeding, it seemed.
She walked back into the bedroom, thinking she might change into one of her new dresses. She wanted to look as pleasing as she could since lunch was likely to be a difficult meal, but in the end she simply smoothed out the creases of her old cotton frock and steadied herself for what was to come. A determination was forming in her mind; she might be scared but she was not going to be scared away. Whoever was doing this, she intended to confront them. And she had a pretty good idea who it might be. She couldn’t work out what Grayson Harte had been doing near the temple or whether he might have a connection to Rajiv. That seemed far-fetched. But she was almost certain that the servant had been behind the attack. He had been hostile since the moment she arrived. He was jealous of her, possessive of the house and of his master. He wanted her gone, and he was doing all he could to make her leave.
It seemed unlikely he could have got to the temple before her, but it was possible he had an accomplice—that man she’d seen in the garden—the man Rajiv had sworn didn’t exist. Ever since she’d arrived, she’d felt herself being watched but had shrugged it off as imagination. Now she was beginning to think that she hadn’t been mistaken. If the man had been watching her and followed, he might know the temple site well enough to climb onto its roof without showing himself. It was improbable but not impossible. And there had to be some explanation for the unpleasant incidents that had begun to dog her, incidents that were gradually becoming more serious in the attempt to dislodge her. But she wasn’t going to be dislodged. She was going to stay and find Rajiv out. She was going to show Gerald just what kind of servant he employed. He refused to believe any wrong of the man, but she was determined to prove that false.
‘I’ve got your ticket,’ Gerald waved a slip of paper at her as she came to the table. ‘Only just though. I was lucky.’
She sat down and ate a first mouthful. Then true to her resolve, took a deep breath and said in a quiet voice, ‘I never promised I’d definitely be leaving, Gerald. I said I would think about it.’
‘There’s nothing to think about. And after this morning’s mishap, you’re surely glad to be going.’
It w
as this morning’s mishap, as he termed it, that had decided her finally against going but that was something she couldn’t say. She took another deep breath. ‘I’ve decided to stay.’
‘You can’t.’
She looked astonished.
‘I mean,’ he amended, ‘I’ve got the ticket now.’
‘I’m sorry you’ve gone to that expense but I did say I would decide later,’ she reminded him, ‘and now I have. I’m staying.’
For a moment, he stared unbelievingly at her across the table. Then he thrust back his chair and stomped to his feet. His face was a mottled red, the same angry colour she had seen when she’d told him about the baby. ‘You’re impossible! This—’ he waved his arm to indicate the house, their life together, she imagined, ‘—this is impossible! I’m going to work and then on to the Mess. Don’t wait up for me.’
He pushed past the table, sending his cutlery clattering to the floor. Without bothering to retrieve it, he stormed out of the house and yelled at the driver who’d been waiting patiently for his passenger to finish lunch. A last rev of the car engine fading into the distance and silence fell across the bungalow. Daisy remained at the table but managed little more of the meal. Her head was throbbing badly and, pushing her plate aside, she went to her room and flung herself down on the bed. A half-sewn summer bag, which she’d begun to fashion from the remnants of material left behind by the durzi, was thrown to one side. A book followed. She lay sweltering. She was too hot to sew, too hot to read. Too hot, too hurt to do anything.
She had crossed Gerald again and his reaction had once more been violent. She was to do what he said or else. Last evening, they had begun to build a bridge of understanding and now she had broken it. Should she try to mend the pieces, agree after all to go to Simla? She couldn’t, she was too far into this horrible chain of events to turn tail. If she was in any doubt, she had only to think of the madness that had overtaken her just a few hours ago. Something or somebody was sabotaging her life and she had to get to the bottom of it. She’d been tempted to think there was something wrong with her, but there was nothing wrong with her, she thought fiercely. What was wrong was the life she was forced to lead, cooped up in this solitary house with a malicious servant living just feet away. Even if she went to Simla, he would still be here when she returned. If she were to prosper in this new life, she had to uncover what Rajiv was plotting.
The Girl from Cobb Street Page 13
