by Jane Tulloch
I go to school. It’s better now. At first the other girls were mean to me and said nasty things. They called me ‘Silly’ instead of Siri and said I needed a wash as my skin was dirty. Why are people so nasty? Anyway, it all got sorted out when a big girl called Jennifer Hansen shouted at them one day and asked them how they would feel if they had to leave everything they knew and start again in a new country. Some of them even cried when she said that. Now they’re my friends. Except horrible Vanessa. She’s still a cow but, Jennifer says you get that. “She’s pathetic really,” and she’s cool so she would know.
I like school. The teachers are kind (mostly) and I always try my best. I’m not the top of the class, but just doing OK is fine by me. I’ve discovered that I’m quite good at sport and I won lots of my races at the school sports day. I even won the high jump prize. What a surprise for Mummy and Daddy. The coach wants a word with me about extra training. Mummy wasn’t keen, but Daddy says that we should take advantage of whatever opportunity arises. They had a bit of an argument about it. Mummy likes me and Anjuli to be at home as much as possible and tries to teach us Indian cooking. I don’t know why. We’re in Scotland now and I like the Scottish food. The school dinners are lovely. No one else likes them though. Odd. Mummy wants us to learn Indian dancing and Indian everything. She wants us to keep our Indian heritage she says. I didn’t know we were Indian until we got here. I thought we were just us. Anyway, now I do geography, I know we came from Uganda, a place in Africa, not India. I tried to discuss this with Mummy, but she just sighed and said I don’t understand. Maybe I will one day.
Daddy’s happier now I think. He likes his work in the Carpet Department. Of course it’s not his business like it was in the past, which he’s sad about, but at least he’s working with his precious rugs. His boss Mr Gavin just invited him on a buying trip so he’s very pleased about that. “It’s like a return to the old days,” he told Mummy.
Apart from all the Indian stuff, I think Mummy likes working at Rosehill too. Mrs Glen is kind to her and they both seem to enjoy keeping the old furniture gleaming and everything nice for Miss Murray. How can anybody like cleaning though? Is this something that will come to me as I get older? I hope not!
I don’t think Anjuli is very happy at the moment. There’s big rows going on at home. She’s very clever you see; her school work is brilliant (compared to mine anyway). Mummy and Daddy were so proud after they came home from parents’ night at school. Apparently Anjuli could easily get into university. They even told Mr and Mrs Glen about it after they got home that night. We often pop over to the kitchen at Rosehill for cocoa after supper. It’s cosy and sometimes they forget I’m there. I sit very quietly pretending to read a book and they talk away. Well, Mummy and Mrs Glen do. The men sit nodding. I sometimes think they’re asleep with their eyes open. Anyway, that night they were all talking about Anjuli and Mummy and Daddy were despairing about the cost of a university education when Miss Murray came in. She’d heard what they were saying and offered to cover the costs. Everyone was shocked. I’m not sure whether it was about the overhearing or the offer though: you should hear some of the things they say. Mummy went all red and Daddy nearly cried again, or at least he went all hoarse and coughed a lot. I’m getting worried about him. They all talked for ages, then noticed I was still there and they made a great fuss and we had to go back to the lodge. Anjuli wasn’t there. She was at choir practice. Miss perfect Anjuli even has a lovely singing voice. Am I jealous? Yes, I think I am. Och, as they say here.
The rows started when Mummy and Daddy told her she could go to university as the school think she’d easily get in and Miss Murray had offered to pay. That was at breakfast. Anjuli went very quiet and said she’d have a think. We all looked at each other as she left the table. You’d think she’d be thrilled and want to snap it up. I expect it was the shock. However, it was us who had the shock when she got home from school that night and announced she didn’t want to go to university. Well. What a scene! I found the shouting and crying upsetting so I sneaked away and sat in the rose garden until I thought things might have calmed down.
Mr Glen came too and sat on the bench next to me and smoked a pipe. He’s very relaxing company. After a while, I told him what was happening at home.
He only nodded as though he’d suspected it all along, then sighed and said, “It’s a sair fecht richt enough.”
I don’t know what that means, but I assume it’s some sort of soothing Scottish saying. We sat for a while in comfortable silence before he finished his pipe and we both got up to return to our own kitchens. No Rosehill kitchen cocoa for me that night.
Since then the rows have seemed to go on night after night. Mummy is cross all the time and Anjuli doesn’t say anything at all. She’s not eating much and pushes her plate away from her as soon as they start on about the wonderful opportunity offered to her. I get myself to the rose garden every evening now. Sometimes Mr Glen is there too; sometimes it’s just Bluebell the cat and me, but he’s good company. I wonder what’s going to happen. I wish everything could go back to how it was before. I tried to say that to Mummy, but she just shouted at me. She’s not very happy. Daddy seems to spend less and less time at home too.
When I got home from school today Mummy was all smiles and had baked us a special cake. Very suspicious. When Daddy got home she said we should all sit down as she had something important to tell us. We all looked at each other. Well, at least she’d cheered up. Unfortunately, that was the calm before the storm, the worst ever storm! It turned out she’d been on the phone to our auntie in Birmingham and they’d come up with a grand new plan for Anjuli. She was to get married!
Apparently, Auntie Meenah knew just the right young man for her and she was currently in negotiations with his family on Mummy and Daddy’s behalf. We were all too stunned to speak at first, then Daddy started to say something. He didn’t look happy, but it was Anjuli’s reaction that was most shocking. She stood up and just shouted at Mummy. I couldn’t believe it! If I thought her reaction regarding university was bad, this was something in another league. The noise was awful. Mummy was loudly trying to describe the man’s wonderful attributes as Anjuli shouted about how she couldn’t believe her own mother would do a thing like that behind her back. She refused point blank to meet him. To ever meet him. It seemed to go on and on. Finally, Daddy stood up and roared, “Enough.” He said he wanted to think about it and walked out. Mummy and Anjuli subsided into a very hostile silence and I slunk out. I just hoped Daddy hadn’t gone to the rose garden. Thankfully, it was empty when I got there. I spotted Daddy sitting in the dark car as I passed by.
That night I heard Mummy and Daddy talking till late as Anjuli’s muffled sobs kept me awake. I couldn’t think what to say to her. Or to anyone. Things didn’t get better. After a while people began to ask at school what was wrong with Anjuli and me. I got fed up with going home to stony silence, so one afternoon, after school, I just went straight to Mrs Glen’s kitchen. She was knitting, but seemed pleased to see me. She made me some cocoa and gave me a lovely slice of cake. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it; I suppose I’d not had much appetite for ages. It’s hard to be hungry in such a horrible, unhappy atmosphere. She watched me tucking in for a while, but when I sat back and wiped off the ring of cocoa around my mouth, she asked if I’d mind telling her what on earth was wrong with my mother. I suppose I should have expected this; I know how nosy she is. But she looked so kind and concerned that I couldn’t hold back any more and burst into tears. I blurted out, “It’s Anjuli.”
“Oh no. Don’t say she’s ill!” Mrs Glen looked horrified. I told her it wasn’t that, it was much worse. Then I poured out the whole story and then she poured out her side of the story too. Mummy and Daddy had stopped coming over for a chat after dinner and Mummy had been virtually silent as she worked in the big house. Mrs Glen had been sure they had done something wrong or said something to upset them. She was very relieved to hear that whatever had been wr
ong in the Joshi household was nothing to do with them. It’s funny how people always think things must be their fault. I’d been feeling guilty too but didn’t know why.
Anyway, we talked and talked and she gave me a wee cuddle, which somehow made me feel much better. Well, it was either that or the cake. Both were good. She tutted when I told her Mr Glen knew something was up but he must have forgotten to tell her about it. After a while I thought I’d better get home in case Mummy was worried about where I was. I thanked Mrs Glen and she gave me a sort of pat and said to leave everything with her.
That night after our silent supper there was a knock at the door. It was Mr Glen. He told Mummy and Daddy they were wanted over in the big kitchen. They sighed and Anjuli and I headed up to our rooms to start on our homework (or, in Anjuli’s case, staring into space). Then Mr Glen said we were to come too. We were all pretty reluctant to follow this royal command to go to the big house but, of course, we set off at once.
To our surprise, Miss Murray was sitting in the kitchen with Mrs Glen. She got up when we came in and suggested we all sit around the table. She’s very good at being in charge, although she actually looked pretty awkward and seemed to fumble around for words. Eventually she said that she and the Glens knew there was something badly wrong with the lodge family and they were all worried and wanted to help. Daddy started to talk, to fob her off I suppose, but Mummy interrupted and told her about the wonderful offer of marriage to the young man in Birmingham. Anjuli looked at the fireplace and sighed.
Miss Murray asked Anjuli what she thought about it and she blurted out that she wouldn’t, couldn’t even think about it and she and Mummy both burst into tears. Miss Murray and Mrs Glen looked at each other. Mr Glen put the kettle on. Bluebell, who had been snuggled up against the Aga, tiptoed out and I wished I could follow him.
After a while, Miss Murray gently asked Anjuli what she herself actually wanted. She pointed out that the offer of university was still there and took it upon herself to say that no one could coerce Anjuli into marriage. Daddy drew himself up at that point, but Miss Murray just looked at him and said, “This is Scotland.” We all looked at Anjuli.
She lifted her head up and looked directly at Miss Murray and said, “Thank you for asking me what I want.”
She looked defiantly at Mummy and continued, “What I’d really like, what I really want to do is to start work in Murrays.” She turned to look at Daddy, “I want to work like you, to specialise in something and to help customers and be friends with other girls and make money and just have, I don’t know, fun!” She seemed to be on a roll. “I’ve worked and studied hard and done my best and I want a change from all that. I’ve got some great ideas how to help Murrays keep up to date and I just want the chance to do that. I think I’ve got something to offer Murrays.”
She ran out of breath, but her eyes sparkled and she looked hopefully towards Miss Murray who nodded quickly.
“Well, Mr Joshi,” she said. She was always very polite to him. “What do you think?”
Daddy seemed a little lost for words. He looked briefly at Mummy who had gone very quiet (and a bit red); she looked mutinous. Eventually, after a glance at Anjuli, he turned to Miss Murray, “Do you think you could find a place for Anjuli in the store Miss Murray? She’s a bright girl and very hard working.”
Mummy looked furious and seemed about to say something, but then shrugged and looked away.
Miss Murray was smiling, “Of course I can find a place for Anjuli. She’s just the sort of girl we’re always looking for. She’s very young though. How about we start her as a junior and see how it goes? If she finds that large scale retail like ours is for her, in the long run there’s no saying but we could sponsor her for further business studies and,” she looked momentarily stern, “if, and I only say if, she’s as good as I think she is, she could join the management training programme. She could have a great future at Murrays.” She sat back. Mrs Glen put a cup of tea in front of her and nodded her approval. Well, after that everyone wanted to speak at once.
Anjuli was overjoyed, saying, “Yes, yes please.”
Daddy looked very happy and Mrs Glen chuntered away to Mummy about the advantages of the scheme. Mummy began to nod reluctantly and finally said she’d better give Auntie Meenah a ring to tell her about the new developments.
So that was that. Anjuli finished her exams that term and left school. She started in Floristry and seems to be enjoying herself. Me next. I wonder what department I’ll end up in? Must rush. Off to high jump practice.
Chapter 6
Resilience
I’m just on my way in to Murrays. It’s my favourite shop by a mile. It feels like the gold standard for shops. I work there now (sort of) as it seems like the right place to be. The right thing to do. I’ve always done things right. I have. Really, I have. My mother always said I was the ideal baby; fed, slept, did everything just as she would have wanted. I was pretty too, everyone at the baby clinic said so. Then I walked early, started to talk, and said just the right things in just the right accent. I was always neat and tidy, my curls intact, even after a day at school, my white socks always pristine and resolutely up, never gathering at my ankles like the other girls’. I was Mummy and Daddy’s pride and joy. I did well enough at school. I wasn’t top of the class, but not near the bottom either. I gained reasonable grades in my exams and never embarrassed my parents at any social functions. Daddy said more than once that I never let them down.
After school I went to secretarial college. I’d rather have done something with flowers, but Mummy said secretaries meet all sorts of suitable people and I never argued with her. I never argued with anyone. She was right too. I did meet a suitable young man in my first job. Charles was a solicitor then. A young man very much on his way up. I was lucky to catch his eye when I did. We went out for a few wonderful months. He was made a partner in the law firm and to celebrate he took me out for a wonderful dinner and proposed. I can’t say it was very romantic really. He just took my hand and said, “The senior partner says that a solicitor in my position should be married. It gives clients more confidence if they feel they’re dealing with a family man, so how about it?” I was a bit flustered. I wasn’t sure if he’d discussed it with Daddy, but, sure enough, it turned out he had. Daddy had agreed (and also agreed to set us up in a nice bungalow in the suburbs, but I didn’t know that at the time).
After that things moved fast. Mummy and I had a marvellous time planning the wedding. I hardly saw Charles as he was working so much, although he took great interest in the guest list, which was surprising as he didn’t want to invite many guests from his side of the family.
The wedding itself was lovely. I’ll never forget it. It was the best day of my life. I felt like a princess as I drifted up the aisle on Charles’s arm on our way to a sumptuous (and very expensive) reception in the best hotel. Daddy had done us proud.
Daddy had done us proud with our new house too. I’d anticipated spending time with Mummy after the wedding, planning how to decorate and furnish it, but Charles said it was none of her business: it was our home and we were to furnish it as we wanted. By this he meant as he wanted. I don’t know when it first struck me that he wasn’t really the charming person we’d all thought. I had dismissed the comments about him from the other secretaries. I’d thought they were just jealous that I, the newest recruit, was waltzing off with the handsome new partner. He was very handsome then and that sort of thing mattered to me then. Not so much now.
Charles said I wasn’t allowed to work after we were married. This made me feel special somehow. A bit smug I suppose. However, I became a tad bored after I’d done everything I possibly could to our home and garden: everything washed, ironed, hoovered, dusted, polished and tidied. I shouldn’t have mentioned it to Charles though. What happened was my own fault and only to be expected. He was tired and out of sorts after a long day. I resolved to put it behind me and forget about it. I didn’t go out for a few days after that,
then it was sunny so I could wear my large sunglasses. Least said soonest mended, as Mummy always said.
Luckily, I was a good cook and Charles soon began to ask clients home for dinner. I had looked forward to presiding over dinner parties and being admired for my hostessing skills. I was a bit surprised at the sort of guests he invited though. I expected young professionals like ourselves, but they were older and a bit seedy really. Sometimes they had wives with them or girlfriends. Sometimes they came on their own. After dinner, rather than have pleasant chats over coffee and port, Charles would take them off to his study. I’d hear them talking and laughing. The whole house used to stink of cigar smoke for days afterwards. I just cleared up and washed the dishes. That was my job apparently.
Two children came along in time: a boy and a girl. Mummy and Daddy would have been so happy to have grandchildren, but, tragically, both my parents were killed outright in a car accident on their first ever holiday to the continent. At the time I thought I’d never recover from the loss. I cried for days and days. I was inconsolable. And of course, Charles did nothing to console me. He gave me two days to snap out of it, then all he wanted to know about was their will. Turns out that Mummy and Daddy had the measure of him after all and their entire estate was left in trust to me as their only child; he couldn’t touch the capital. He touched me then alright. There was nobody to notice by now though, except the dentist, who foolishly wondered about my loose and missing teeth. He restored them beautifully, then I had to change dentist. Charles insisted.
Linda and Peter, the children, were little chips off the old block. Just like Charles they both were. Linda was beautiful and completely spoilt by her father. He could deny her nothing. Any time I tried to establish behavioural boundaries he ignored them and encouraged her to ignore them as well. She soon became a complete brat and the despair of her teachers (and me). Peter in his turn was a very handsome boy. A handsome boy with some very ugly habits. I was forever being asked to see his head teacher about his bullying. He was downright cruel. Our neighbours didn’t have much to do with us, but I was mortified one day when they arrived at my door with their dead pet rabbit that Peter had apparently tortured. I believed them. Charles didn’t and stormed round to their house. I don’t know what he said. They moved soon after. The other neighbours avoided us.
