‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’ He turned to greet her and the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. ‘Allow me to present Thakur, the finest toymaker in Kashmir.’
She acknowledged the little old man who was watching her shyly.
‘Thakur has been telling me that he remembers you well, and he certainly did understand what you were asking on the day you came in here. However, he wasn’t able to explain to you that he couldn’t produce a copy of the elephant you saw because it had been made specially for me and, as a matter of honour, he’d vowed never to produce another.’ He spread his hands apologetically. ‘It wasn’t my request, I assure you, and I know that’s not the way English craftsmen do business. But this isn’t England, is it?’
‘No, it’s certainly not!’ There was laughter in her voice and she inclined her head towards the toymaker. ‘Captain, please tell Thakur that I apologize for my impatience last time I was here.’
Andrew spoke a few words and the toymaker gave a solemn bow in her direction. ‘Anyhow, Mrs Latham, I’ve already given him permission to make another elephant like it for you, along with a howdah and, as it’s for your nephews, why not ask him to make a couple of little princes to sit on the elephant’s back? But now you’ll have to decide how you’d like your elephant to be decorated.’
She pulled off her hat and sat beside him on a bench while the woodcarver produced a box of parchments and explained – with Andrew translating – the significance of the intricate swirling, colourful pattern illustrated on each sheet.
‘As you see, Mrs Latham, every great occasion has its traditional design for the elephants taking part in it. Weddings, funerals, coronations, festivals, holy days.’
‘Oh, how can I possibly choose? They’re all so wonderful. Look at this one – and this!’
‘Annabelle’s toy is decorated for the wedding of a princess.’ There was a hint of pride in his tone. ‘Why not give your nephews something that’s used only by very great maharajas at festival time?’ He showed her a design with intricate swirls of red and gold, blue, green and white. ‘You won’t see anything more impressive than that!’
‘Yes, it’s certainly magnificent, but will it be ready by the end of the month? I’m leaving here after my cousin’s wedding.’
‘Thakur won’t disappoint you, I can promise.’
‘Splendid. Now, how do I say “thank you” in Urdu?’ She held out her hand to the craftsman.
‘It’s shukria.’
She said it, and the man smiled as their hands touched.
‘Well, at last I’ve learned one word of the local language,’ she said lightly as they left the shop and the boy holding the horse moved towards them. ‘Thank you very much for your help, Captain. Shukria, as we say in Kashmir.’ They shared a smile. ‘See, I’m learning! But I mustn’t delay you any longer this afternoon.’
‘You’re not walking back to the cantonment now? Is there something else here that you’d like to see?’
‘Yes, actually. I want to see anything and everything – I enjoy watching people going about their business.’ She shrugged. ‘I still have so few impressions of the real Kashmir to take away with me.’
‘Then, with your permission, Mrs Latham, I’d be delighted to stroll with you.’ He told the boy holding his grey horse to lead it back to the Residency stables while he and Victoria set off through the twisting lanes with their odours of apple blossom, donkey dung, enticing spices and smells from the tanning vats.
Andrew surprised himself with this singular readiness to postpone his duty this afternoon and escort the delightful Mrs Latham through the streets of Srinagar.
Anyhow, it would be of no great consequence if the Resident was kept waiting for an hour or two to receive his report on the wily old maharaja’s latest move in the diplomatic cat and mouse game he regularly played during his weekly audience with the British Military Attaché.
His Highness delighted in dropping very unsubtle hints that he might be about to break the treaty he’d signed with the British and switch his loyalty to the Russians who’d always been eager to win a foothold in India. All through today’s audience, the maharaja had flaunted a new gift from the tsar – a heavy gold ring emblazoned with the Russian eagle.
‘By the way, Captain’ – Mrs Latham’s voice cut across his thoughts – ‘I’ve had no opportunity before this to mention an encounter that I had not long ago with your daughter and a most elegant lady at the Shalimar Gardens when I went there on the pretext of painting.’
‘Aha! So you were the nice lady who wasn’t cross with Annabelle when she ran into you? She’s told me about you.’
‘I’ve mentioned the incident to nobody, I assure you.’
‘Thank you.’ They shared a smile. ‘As you must have guessed, it’s not known here that I have a daughter, or that the Begum Raziid Khan is caring for her at the moment – summers on the houseboat, winters on her estate near Amritsar.’ He paused for a moment. ‘The begum was extremely kind to me when I was a boy and when Annabelle arrived in my life, she was the only one I could turn to for help.’
Victoria was intrigued, but ingrained tact prevented her from asking any of the myriad questions flying around in her mind. There was much more to this tall, dark man than he seemed willing to reveal.
‘And, by the way,’ he added with a knowing grin, ‘the begum is on very good terms with the old maharaja up there on the hill, and it was she who persuaded him to have the Shalimar Gardens put back into order. She’s finding it increasingly difficult to keep a growing child confined to the deck of a houseboat.’
Victoria chuckled. ‘I can well imagine—’ Before she could say more, they came to a display of shawls hanging outside a cave-like shop. She halted and, in an instant, the sharp-eyed merchant appeared in his doorway, draping more shawls over his arms.
‘Oh, they’re beautiful.’ She fingered the ones held out to her. ‘How fine they are. Actually, I’d love to buy a couple of these for my sisters. Captain, would you be kind enough to come in and show me the way business is done in this town?’
The merchant’s sons rushed to bring chairs for them while the shelves were emptied and, one by one, every shawl was unfolded and displayed. With so many to choose from, the selection was a pleasant, time-consuming exercise and, in the end, she thought that the price negotiated by the captain and the merchant seemed ridiculously low. Five English shillings for two? However, as they walked from the premises with her purchases wrapped in brown paper, all parties were wearing satisfied smiles.
They stopped to watch a goldsmith working at his craft, and then a potter throwing clay on his wheel and forming it into a long-necked urn within a few minutes. A little further along the lane, their way became blocked by a cluster of people around a frail-looking old man in a brown cloak who was seated on a stool with a shallow dish of hot oil standing before him on a brazier. The crowd parted as they approached.
‘Well, look at this! Here we have an augury at work.’ Andrew raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Would you like him to look for omens, or tell you what he can see in your future? He can read them all on the surface of his oil.’
‘No, certainly not, thank you. I don’t believe in any nonsense of that kind.’ She laughed as if it was a joke and was about to turn away when the old man lifted his rheumy gaze. It locked with hers, and suddenly she found herself rooted to the spot while swirling, iridescent patterns on the surface of the hot oil began to move. The man’s toothless mouth worked soundlessly, until at last he gave a nod and looked down to study whatever messages he could read in the shifting, changing patterns and colours of the oil. All at once she found herself breathing fast, as if she’d been running.
Andrew stood close beside her and offered his elbow. She slipped her hand into it and stood mesmerized as the soothsayer frowned and muttered, lost in his own mysterious world. When he began to speak, his voice was cracked.
‘The black water that stole what you most treasured is now calm.’ Andrew translat
ed the old man’s words and whispered them into her ear. ‘Children are waiting to come into your life, many daughters, and you must not allow yourself to be hindered by doubt or trepidation. Look in the right direction and you will discover your destiny is waiting all around you. Close your eyes and see it with your mind. Search for it in your heart.’
When the old man looked up, the light seemed to leave his eyes and he held out his hand to collect the coins that Andrew offered.
‘Oh!’ Victoria felt a shiver shoot down her spine and she tightened her grip on Andrew’s arm as they walked away. ‘Whatever was he talking about? How ridiculous he was. How could he possibly see my destiny in that oil?’
She scoffed, but out of nowhere, an image flew into her mind of the nameless young woman lying dead in an East End tenement. And of Molly Collins, the motherless daughter of a dead trooper. Why should these totally unconnected girls both tumble into her thoughts at that moment?
A few paces around the corner they came to a small teahouse. ‘I’m sorry if the old fellow’s ramblings have upset you, Mrs Latham. Perhaps a cup of tea will help.’ He led her inside to a table.
‘No, I’m not perturbed, Captain. Just puzzled.’ Deep in thought, she took several sips from the cup brought to her and then looked up at him. ‘It’s strange, but I think I can understand what was behind that message regarding the black water being calm now. My husband died in the East Indies nearly four years ago, and when I first received that news, I was thrown into a raging black ocean of grief. I was drowning in it and for a long time I could barely keep myself afloat. Such a long time.’ She bit down on her lower lip.
‘It was only when I came up here into the mountains that I was able to face the fact that Peter had gone to his rest and that I was quite alone. And once I could acknowledge that truth, I felt my wild black ocean grow calm.’ She tilted her head and smiled softly. ‘You see, I can even talk about him now, and that’s how it should be, because Peter Latham was a fine man who shouldn’t be forgotten.’
As Andrew listened, he longed for the ability that some men possessed to find the sensitive, appropriate words that moments like this required. He wanted to tell her that no man could ever hope for more than to have his wife express these heartfelt sentiments in his memory. But he was too clumsy and ill-practised to attempt to express tender feelings, and could do no more than give a slight nod of understanding. She looked at him with a tentative smile, and he returned it.
‘It might seem incredible, Captain, but when Peter and I first met, we fell in love between one heartbeat and the next. It was extraordinary to feel so sure, so quickly, about something like that.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Oh, do you mind me talking to you like this?’
‘No, not at all. Please—’
‘Well, you see, I went to stay with an elderly aunt in Devon, and she lived near a little shipyard where Peter and his uncle had their vessel under repair….’
He rested his elbows on the table and listened to the tale of her meeting with Peter and his uncle, and the adventure of sailing with them on the Fortitude.
‘Captain Latham married us at sea, but Peter died of a fever over there on the other side of the world, so he never did come back for me.’
He heard the faint tremor in her voice, but she drew in a deep breath to steady it and went on to tell him about Aunt Honoria and her worldly advice. ‘She always said the dark moments that come into our lives make the rest of it seem all the more brilliant. And I’m sure she was right.’
He leaned closer. Her voice was musical, and she had a way of subtly colouring her words to reveal shades of feeling. He was captured by her ability to speak openly about her emotions and permit him to look into her heart.
‘Peter and I had planned for me to sail with him on his next voyage and, after that, I was going to spend my life at sea. I wanted to learn how to navigate and make myself useful on board.’ For a moment she gazed thoughtfully into the distance. ‘I’ve always felt the need to be useful, y’know, but it’s so difficult for a woman like me to find something worthwhile to fill her life.’
Again, he longed to produce some kind of appropriate response, but the right words evaded him.
She swung her gaze to meet his and frowned. ‘Oh, Captain! What did the augury say about children?’
‘Children are waiting. Many daughters.’
‘Many children are waiting for me? How extraordinary. I once worked with the volunteers at a hospital for foundlings – helping to bathe and feed them, or looking after them when they were ill.’ She gave a sceptical frown. ‘But that’s all years ago now. Besides there was rarely a shortage of volunteers, so they can’t possibly be waiting for me to come back.’
‘But perhaps you will work there again when you go home to London.’
She shrugged. ‘Captain, I’m not sure where I’ll go when I leave Kashmir. I have no home – either in London nor anywhere else. The house I grew up in is now leased to strangers and my parents have gone to live in the South of France.’
‘Will you be joining them there?’
‘Hah!’ She shook her head. ‘They’ve declared me persona non grata. They’ve never forgiven me for eloping with a sailor and creating a scandal that provided all the ammunition needed by Mama’s long-time foe to win their endless, point-scoring battle.’ She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
‘Mama and this lady were bitter rivals in their youth, and the situation between them grew increasingly spiteful as the years passed. They both went out of their way to make sure that their paths crossed at every opportunity, and each time they did, they’d both unsheath their claws and try to draw blood.
‘I can’t tell you how many times I saw that happening. And it’s the main reason why my mother flew into such a rage when she heard that I’d lowered the social standing of the Shelford family by marrying Peter, and therefore providing her enemy with a perfect weapon to deliver the coup de grâce.’
For a moment she sat with her own thoughts. ‘I grew up believing that, no matter how unforgiving my mother might be, I’d always be able to rely on my father to listen to whatever I needed to talk to him about. I was sure that he’d stand by me. But – no, I think that this was the very first time in my whole life that I’d ever disappointed him, yet he instantly turned his back on me. Literally. I can’t tell you how much that still hurts.’
He recognized her genuine distress and felt deeply for her. ‘Hard to believe,’ he muttered inanely.
‘Oh, it’s true enough. That’s why my parents and I are no longer on the best of terms.’
Tentatively, his hand slid three inches across the table towards hers. Then thinking better of it, he pulled it back and reached for his cup. ‘You have my sympathy, Mrs Latham. I’m not on the best of terms with my parents, either, but then, I can’t recall a time when we were ever on good terms.’
‘Hmm.’ She straightened on her chair. ‘Yes, I certainly saw no sign of affection between you and the general at the ball last night.’
‘It’s always been like that. When I was three, my mother found the courage to run away with her lover, and I haven’t heard a word from her since. My father packed me off to a well-known “flogging school” in England at the age of six – one of the places designed to put backbone into miserable little boys and set them on the road to becoming brave British soldiers. He told me that I’d thank him for it, but I’m still waiting for that day to arrive.’
She passed her cup for more tea. ‘It’s supposed to be against all the rules of nature, Captain, but I’m afraid that parents do sometimes let their children down badly.’ She looked up and gave him a slow, warm smile. ‘But I know for certain that, no matter what twists and turns Annabelle’s path through life might take, you would never turn away from her. You’d listen and you’d at least try to understand. She’s a fortunate little girl indeed to have you as her papa.’
‘Annabelle is all I have. And I’m all that she has, Mrs Latham.’
‘Oh
please do call me Victoria. We’re friends now, aren’t we – Andrew?’
He found it disconcerting to realize how swiftly their conversation had slipped into these sensitive, personal areas. He’d never before spoken of his private life to anyone. In fact, he’d been taught to conceal feelings and to regard emotion as a weakness. Emotion made a man vulnerable. But until now he’d never encountered a woman quite like the one who was sitting on the other side of this table.
‘Friends, indeed, Victoria. I thank you.’
‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed our time this afternoon.’
He was hit by a strong reluctance to part from her. ‘Perhaps I could show you a little more of Kashmir before you leave? Different civilizations have come and gone in this valley for a thousand years and more, and I can take you to visit some splendid sights up in the hills around Srinagar – glorious views, the ruins of an old royal observatory, a Hindu temple. We could a picnic and—’
‘Thank you, yes, I’d enjoy that very much, if you’re sure you can spare the time. So far, even after being here for weeks, I still understand very little about this country because nothing ever seems to be clear or straightforward.’
He laughed. ‘Yes, if you don’t view life the way an Indian does it’s hard to make sense of the things you see going on around the place. I hope I might be able to throw a little light on a few aspects when we get away from the cantonment. Sorry I can’t suggest a day until I’ve checked my duty list for the next week, but may I send you a message?’ He became aware that he was suddenly grinning like a schoolboy.
‘My time is my own, Andrew. Any day that’s convenient for you will suit me perfectly.’
As dusk had begun to settle over the town by now, there was no question of Victoria walking home unescorted. When they left the teahouse, she slipped her arm through his again and, with her hat swinging by its ribbons in her hand, they strolled back to Nigel’s house, still talking and unconcerned about whether or not they might be observed together.
Echoes of a Promise Page 13
