by John Masters
We got on the trolley and headed south. It was two o’clock before we got to Bhowani, and I realized that Savage had kept Victoria all that time in my office with Kasel. Macaulay had probably been there most of the time too.
We looked a sight as we walked in—Savage, the Gurkha orderly Birkhe, and me. We were covered with dust, my clothes were torn and my shoes cracked. I limped to the chatti in the corner and poured about half of it down my throat. Until I’d done that I couldn’t even notice who was in the room.
I saw that there were a couple of empty beer bottles in the wastepaper basket by Victoria’s table, and crumbs of bread and a chicken bone on the floor. I thought, Victoria must have had supper in here with Macaulay. There was no one else who would be likely to bring beer up there, except me. Savage saw the bottles and crumbs too and glanced quickly at Victoria, almost nervously. I thought he was going to ask her about them, but he didn’t. Macaulay wasn’t there—only Kasel and Victoria and us. Victoria was pale, and her eyes looked large and dry. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought she was shaking a bit.
‘Now can we all go to bed?’ I asked Savage.
‘Who’s on night duty here?’ he asked.
‘There is no night duty. The Assistant Stationmaster looks after the Traffic Office at night,’ I said.
I thought for a minute Savage was going to order Kasel and me to take turns sitting up there all night like military sentries. By God, I would have given him a piece of my mind. But he didn’t. He took no notice at all. He stretched his legs comfortably and said to Kasel, ‘What’s your real name? I can’t stand calling you Kasel.’
‘Ranjit Singh,’ Kasel said.
Savage began to light a cheroot and said, ‘Do most of the Kasel clan still live round Amritsar?’
Damn it, it was a quarter past two then. I looked at the clock.
Kasel said, ‘Yes, Colonel—there and Jullundur and Hoshiarpur.’ He was pleased as punch that Savage knew about his clan, and he could not hide it. He had a very expressive face. I had never heard of the Kasel clan.
Savage picked up a field telephone that was on Victoria’s table. The Gurkhas must have put it in during the night. The wires went out through the window. Savage spoke on it to his people in cantonments. When he had finished, Victoria stood up and said, ‘May I go now, sir?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘The Collector’s out of Bhowani and won’t be back until lunchtime. I’m going to see him at five o’clock. Meet me then at his bungalow. Taylor, you’d better come too. Bring a pad and pencil, Miss Jones. You know shorthand?’
‘Yes, sir. Very good, sir.’
He looked at her with a frown but said nothing and went out, with Birkhe following in his footsteps as he always did.
I got up and sat down again at once, my feet hurt so badly. At last I forced myself to walk because I wanted to take Victoria home. Before we left I told Kasel to close the office.
I followed Victoria very slowly down the stairs, along the platform, and on to the footpath beside the line. I was limping terribly. I said, ‘Go slowly, Victoria. If you knew how my feet hurt. It was all a damned waste of time. It was exciting, though. I got shot at!’
Victoria said, ‘Oh,’ and her voice was sharp. I began to tell her all about it. That made me forget my feet, and soon I was walking faster. Was it K. P. Roy that Savage had shot at? Had he hit him? Or had he fired at a peaceful traveller? What were K. P. Roy and the Congress wallahs going to do, anyway? I talked about all this.
Victoria said nothing all the while, but by the time we came to the signal I felt fine. The last time we had been there was after the Sir Meredith Sullivan evening, when I had felt sad because I wanted to help her and we were drifting apart. Now it was quite different, I don’t know why. Perhaps it was seeing the Gurkhas with their rifles and tommy-guns, and even working closely with Savage, who was so beastly sure of himself.
I thought, now’s the time to put that right about last Saturday. I said, ‘Good night, Victoria.’ I caught her in my arms and kissed her properly on the mouth. I wasn’t going to say anything or ask for anything that time. I’d learned my lesson about asking permission.
In my arms she was like the signal post, stiff and cold and hard. I stopped kissing her and asked her what was the matter.
She hit me as hard as she could with her fist, right on the nose. The blood spurted out, and my eyes watered. I staggered about for a minute, then I gasped, ‘Oh, Vicky, don’t do that. What is the matter?’
She stood there close to me in the dark, breathing like a train. She said, ‘Macaulay tried to rape me. You make me feel like a bitch in heat. All of you. Except Kasel. He’s the only gentleman here. Now go away!’
She ran, stumbling, toward her house.
SEVEN
I hardly slept the rest of that night. Then I got through my morning’s work somehow and hung around, smoking cigarettes and drinking tea, until I could go to Victoria’s, a little before four. We were supposed to go to the Collector’s with Colonel Savage at five. Before we went I meant to find out about this Macaulay business so that I could tell Savage and see that Macaulay was punished. In the night I had thought of beating Macaulay up, but it was too serious for that.
Victoria was sitting reading in the parlour when I got to Number 4 Collett Road. She must have known what I had come for, but all she said was, ‘You’re an hour early, Patrick. I’m reading.’ She spoke quickly.
I said, ‘Victoria, what happened last night?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ she said. ‘I can look after myself.’
I cried, ‘You can’t! Tell me, I must know. Then we’ll tell Colonel Savage. I’ll tell him by myself if you will feel embarrassed. How—how bad was it? What did he do?’
She looked at me for a while, then said, ‘You don’t really want to know, Patrick, do you? But I’ll tell you. But—you’ve got to promise not to do anything about it. Anything, do you understand?’
I grumbled, but I had to promise. She said, ‘Kasel was working at the desk when I got up there. Your chuprassi was asleep in the corner, I think. I asked Kasel—I’m going to call him Ranjit; that’s what his name is—if he’d seen the Gurkhas come on the trains. I told him we’d never had Gurkhas in Bhowani before. “Then we shall all be safe now,” he said. He was being sarcastic, you understand.’
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘He is a Congress wallah, that’s why he doesn’t like the military. But what has this got to do with—what happened?’
‘A lot,’ Victoria said sharply. ‘When something important happens to you, you remember all of it or nothing. Don’t interrupt. I told you you wouldn’t like it. I told Ranjit that even if he didn’t like the military he was much better at dealing with them than you were.’
I moved in my chair, but she went on. ‘Ranjit said, “We Indians have learned now to bend a little with the wind. Savage is a big wind.” Ranjit has a sense of humour, you know, even though his eyes always look so sad.
‘Well, we sat there for a bit, talking. Then I began to copy out some of the working time-tables and I didn’t really notice anything more until it began to get dark and Lieutenant Macaulay came in. He had a bulging haversack slung on his shoulder. He told me Savage would certainly take you into every village within ten miles. He told me Savage’s nickname among the officers was “the Sahib”. I knew that already. He didn’t take any notice of Ranjit. He behaved almost as if Ranjit didn’t exist. After a time Ranjit got up and said he was going off to have his supper.’
Victoria stared straight at me while she was talking, and never blinked. ‘Macaulay asked him if he was going to his house, and if he would be gone long. I didn’t think anything of it. I was a fool, I suppose. Ranjit told Macaulay he was going to eat in the refreshment room on the platform, and Macaulay told him not to hurry himself.’
Her voice was dry and her eyes hard and angry and fixed on me. I began to feel very uncomfortable.
‘Ranjit went out. The chuprassi woke up, saw it was dark, and shu
ffled off. I heard Macaulay coming close to me. I went on working. He dropped his haversack on top of my papers and said, “Take a look in there.” I opened it. There were two bottles of beer, a cold chicken, metal plates, knives, forks, salt, pepper, bread, napkins—everything. He sat down on the table close to me and said, “That’s for us. My name’s Graham. Do you like beer?”’
I knew Victoria did like beer. She didn’t drink it much, but I could imagine how wonderful those two bottles must have looked to her then. My God, what wouldn’t I have done for even one of them out on the line?
Victoria said, ‘Macaulay opened the bottles and poured out the beer. We ate. It was a good chicken, very tender, but I did not enjoy it. I hardly even tasted it in my mouth. Macaulay was sitting so close that he gave me the creeps. His fly buttons were right under my eyes. But what could I say? How could I get out without making a fool of myself, perhaps? I said to myself, He won’t have the nerve to try any tricks. I ate slowly, then more slowly. But I had to finish some time, and Ranjit didn’t come back and didn’t come back. You see, Macaulay had spoken in such a way that Ranjit thought I would like to be left alone with Macaulay, that we had an understanding. Do you see?’
I muttered, ‘Kasel had no business to think that. He ought not to have left you.’
She blazed up at me. ‘You think so? How the hell could Ranjit know Macaulay’s a sex maniac? Tell me that!’
She calmed down and went on. ‘I felt trapped in the chair, so I got up and walked to the window. That was a mistake. As soon as I’d done it I knew. Macaulay kept talking, but he came and stood dose to me, a little behind me, not touching me. Then he said, “By the way, didn’t you know Johnny Tallent?”’ Victoria stopped dead.
At last I had to ask her, ‘Who’s Johnny Tallent?’
She said, ‘Johnny Tallent was a captain. Nearly three years ago. He used to say I had bedroom eyes. He ought to know.’ She stopped again.
I thought, Why does she have to bring this up? Why doesn’t she tell me what Macaulay did or tried to do, and not drag in Kasel’s being so nice and her having gone to bed with this Captain Tallent? I thought, She’s doing it on purpose because she wants to shake me off, and she’s making me miserable and angry and jealous. But I did not say anything, and after a while she continued.
‘I used to like Johnny Tallent. I thought he was honest. He never pretended to want anything except to go to bed with me. He used to say I was beautiful, and he meant it, but that’s what he said it for. He never pretended he would marry me. He thought that because he was a British officer and I was a cheechee girl I’d do anything. And—Patrick, you’re so determined we can’t change, you ought to understand this—he was right. Slowly, slowly, I did feel I had to do it. Do you understand? Do you?’
I put my head in my hands. I understood, but the tears of rage and sadness were wet on my fingers.
‘So I did. Several times. Then he left Delhi. But do you know what he’d done? He’d written to his friend Graham Macaulay in Burma or wherever Macaulay was, and told him about me. I expect he called me a nice bit of homework. Eightannas, of course. And when Macaulay met me, he remembered. He remembered, and so he said to me, “By the way, didn’t you know Johnny Tallent?” I told him I did. I kept my back to him. Macaulay said, “Johnny was a great pal of mine. We were like brothers, almost. Everything he likes, I like—only more so. Much more.” He pressed forward and touched me all the way down my back, leaning over me. He talked all the time, but he hardly had any breath. You know what he felt like, pressing against me? Like a mad camel. You’ve seen camels on musth? He put his arms round me and held my breasts tightly; he was just ready to——’
‘Don’t!’ I shouted suddenly. ‘Shut up! I don’t want to hear about it! I’m going to go out and kill him!’ I jumped up.
She said, ‘Sit down. I jabbed back with my elbow—hard. He moaned and bent forward. The sweat was shining on his face; those horrible little eyes were dulled like stones; his moustache was wet where he’d licked it; and his mouth was open. But he pressed on again, saying nothing.’
She looked at me and said very quietly, ‘Suddenly I was frightened, worse than I’ve ever been. I opened my mouth to scream, and at that moment Ranjit knocked and came in. He stopped in the door-way, and I broke free from Macaulay. Macaulay turned round slowly. I ran to my chak and sat down, trembling, shivering. I heard Macaulay say, “Got to go. The lines.” Then he went.’
‘Did Kasel see—anything?’ I asked. I couldn’t have borne it if Kasel had seen anything.
Victoria raised her eyebrows a little. She said, ‘No, Patrick. He didn’t see. But he knew. He got me some water. He was blushing. He wanted to report it to Colonel Savage, but——’
‘My God, he’d better not!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t want any bloody Wogs mixed up in this.’
‘Oh, you don’t?’ Victoria said. ‘Well, that’s too bad, because Ranjit is mixed up in it, and he’s the only one of all of you men who doesn’t make me feel like a bitch.’
She took her eyes off my face for the first time. She looked at the sort of beaded screen that hid the empty fireplace, and spoke quite gently, as if it was all over and we were having a chat, an ordinary talk, about a picnic or something. She said, ‘I asked him why Colonel Savage called him a depilated Sikh. He told me he was a Sikh by birth. It was very clever of Savage to know that, he said, since he wasn’t wearing a beard. That meant he’d renounced his religion. He’s an atheist. His mother made him one. We had to talk about something all that time until you came back. His mother says religion is the opiate of the people, the thing that helps keep people in their chains. He lives with her, here in the city. She is a wonderful woman, he says—a widow, of course. Ranjit’s a B.A. from Punjab University, you know, and——’
I shouted, ‘Do not keep talking about Kasel! Come on. It is time for us to go to the Collector’s.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But remember, you’re not to do anything about Macaulay.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I said.
She said, ‘I’ve told you, Patrick. I’ve warned you. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. No, I’m not coming on your Norton. I have an Army bicycle. I will need it after we’re finished there.’
‘I’ll give you a tow.’ She was so worked up about me and Macaulay that I decided I had better not tell anyone after all. It wouldn’t be worth it. She got on the push bike. It was a heavy ugly thing, painted dark green and weighing about two maunds—what the Army calls a G.S. bicycle. There was a lever on one handlebar to work the front brake, but the rear brakes worked by back-pedalling. So when Victoria put her hand on my shoulder and I towed her slowly up the Pike she had to lift her feet on to one of the frame members so that the pedals could go round. It was a man’s bike, of course. I couldn’t help thinking that anyone in front would be able to see half-way up her skirt, and that got me to wondering—had she spoken the truth, the whole truth? Had she led Macaulay on? But it was only because I loved her that I felt so confused and helpless.
So it was just unlucky that as we turned into the Collector’s driveway I saw Colonel Savage and Birkhe right under my wheel. I jammed on my brakes, and Savage jumped aside, but Victoria wobbled forward and her bike keeled over and she had to slip off quickly and very awkwardly in that tight skirt.
Savage said, ‘That’s why they give WAC (I)s khaki safety-first knickers.’ He smiled at her, that smile I knew, and it was too much for me.
I jerked the Norton on to its stand and I shouted, ‘We have had enough of those kind of jokes, sir! Victoria is under your orders because you were unfair and sent telegrams to your friends in Delhi, but she does not have to be insulted. Even Mrs Fortescue can’t order her to stay here and be insulted.’
Savage had stopped smiling and looked at me, his blue eyes going flat and calm.
I said, ‘I am going to report something else that happened too. Last night.’
Victoria sighed, and I noticed the Gurkha, Birkhe, standing the
re. I didn’t want any natives mixed up in this, so I asked Savage to send him away. Then I said, ‘I am going to make a complaint about last night. It is what happened to Miss Jones. I——’
Savage interrupted very quickly. He said, ‘I know. I’m sorry I ever left Miss Jones alone with Ranjit in the office at night. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m not used to having women working under me. Was it serious enough for me to take up further, or——?’
I could not believe my ears, and Victoria was staring at him too. My God, I thought, was it really Kasel? What if everything happened just as Victoria said—only the other way round? Macaulay must have reported something to Savage already. If that was true, did it mean that Victoria had been egging Kasel on?
I was dumbfounded, and I know my mouth was hanging open. Savage said, ‘But do think seriously before you make an official complaint, Miss Jones. It would not be a small matter—a year or two in prison, at least. If it had been a soldier it would be worse. And as for an officer! My God, an officer would get about ten years and cashiering. So—here, let me wheel your bike.’ He took her bicycle, and I began to push the Norton alongside, feeling in a daze. Now he was talking as if it might have been Macaulay after all. ‘So,’ he said, ‘unless it was really serious, please don’t tell me any more about it. I’ll see that your conditions of work are made safe for you. I’m afraid part of the trouble is that you are such a very beautiful girl—no, please, I’m not trying to insult you—and that’s a rare and rather wonderful thing to meet, even for men who haven’t just come back from Burma and Malaya and Indonesia. You’re five foot eight, aren’t you? Five eight and a half? I’ll get you a lady’s bicycle as soon as I can. And forgive me about the telegram. Mr Taylor says I was unfair, and I expect you feel the same, but please remember I’ve got a job to do, and five hundred men to look after. It is my duty to them to get the best help I can. Here we are. The Collector wants us to go straight in. After you, Miss Jones. Go ahead, Taylor.’
And then we were inside the Collector’s study.
