She picked one at random from the middle of the pile. The thin page gave off a faint scent of roses.
‘My dearest,’ it began. Sophie scanned down the page, skipping over news of people she’d never heard of. There was mention of a winery and a dinner for clients. Then she caught sight of her own name.
‘... How very terrible for you to have Sophie interfere with your work. It sounds like you handled the situation with your usual firm fairness but you’ll have to make it clear to her that it’s up to you how you deal with the coolies. Just don’t let her go with you to the depot. Anyway, that’s just my opinion.
I have my own cross to bear; Papa is as irascible as ever and shows no sign of failing. I carry on doing my ‘good works’ as he calls the running of my nursing home and we rub along. He’s still talking of selling up the business and moving back to New York, but he won’t. He loves France too much, as do I.
I do hope you are keeping healthy and that your young wife is taking good care of you. Sweet of you to say that no one can nurse a man back to life like I can! They were extraordinary times, weren’t they?
Love and kind regards,
Your Normandy Rose, Nancy.’
She pulled out another letter – a more recent one – and read about Nancy nursing her father who was ill with pleurisy but wishing she could be experiencing life at Dalhousie instead. She asked him if he was staying healthy by doing his Christian Science exercises just as she was doing them on his behalf. So was it Nancy who had made him a convert to the American-born philosophy? She remembered now how Tam had mentioned that an American friend in France had introduced him to it. A third letter sympathised with the fuss over Sophie and Rafi.
‘... just too bad! What was she thinking of going off with that Indian? I think girls her age have come to expect too much freedom since the War and don’t understand etiquette. It’s a changing world, my dearest.’
Always, she signed herself off as his Normandy Rose. Sophie clutched her stomach feeling sick. She could not bear to read any more. Judging by the dates on the envelopes, Tam had been keeping up a correspondence with this American woman since he had arrived in India – long before she joined him to get married.
What did Nancy mean to him? She sounded older – almost like a bossy elder sister at times – but also loving. The letters were confiding and tender. Were his letters loving and intimate in return? Or was he just using her as a sounding board for frustrations with his wife and India?
Sophie felt ashamed for having read through letters never meant for her eyes, yet angry that Tam should be writing about her to another woman. He had obviously been critical of her. What else did he say? That he regretted marrying her and that she was a disappointment as a wife?
Sophie shoved the letters back in the box, secured it behind the desk and locked up the office, taking the afternoon’s dak with her. She left the wood behind; she couldn’t settle to carving anything now.
When Tam returned that evening, she handed him the pile of post.
‘The chaprassi came with your dak.’
‘I’ll see to it tomorrow,’ he waved it away, his face scored with exhaustion.
‘There’s one from someone called Bannerman.’ She watched his startled look.
He turned away, making for the door. ‘Ah, is there.’
‘Tam–’
‘I’m going for a wash. Just put it on the table.’
Nothing was said at dinner. The post lay untouched. Sophie went to bed early and listened to him cutting open the letter. She heard him chuckling to himself, a sound she hadn’t heard for an age. Nancy made him laugh. Later she heard him pacing the veranda sighing.
In the morning the letter was gone and Tam was out riding early. She waited for him to say something – anything – to explain away the correspondence but he said nothing. She agonised over whether to tell him that she knew that Bannerman was a woman. But it would open up such a gulf between them and destroy the recent harmony.
If Tam had any romantic intentions towards this Nancy, surely he would have acted on them long before he met her? She was just a pen friend from his past – someone to whom he could pour out his troubles – things with which he didn’t want to upset his wife.
Tam had chosen her not the older-sounding Nancy and they were going to have a child. Everything changed with the baby. She would put up with this illicit correspondence as long as Tam was the devoted father she thought he could be. He had lost his own father when young and she knew how he longed to become one himself.
And Sophie’s guilt over her feelings for Rafi held her back from speaking out too. How could she criticise Tam when she had yearnings for another man? They had heard nothing from Rafi since the camping trip, though there had been scandal in the Civil and Military Gazette about a Ghulam Khan getting arrested on suspicion of setting fire to the Governor’s car. Sophie knew from her mountain conversation with Rafi about his family that this was Rafi’s hot-headed younger brother, but didn’t dare raise the subject with Tam. The younger Khan was languishing in prison.
So she had fought and overcome her strong feelings for Rafi for Tam’s sake and the baby’s; she believed that Tam would do the same for her.
A few days later they loaded up a bullock cart and rode through the jungle to the canal where they got a ride on a plate-layer’s trolley on the newly built tramway. By midday they were at the station and boarding a train north to Lahore.
Chapter 38
To Sophie’s delight, Boz and McGinty were in town. They were staying at The Cecil Hotel but bumped into each other at a tea dance in Nedous. Sophie could tell from their shocked expressions how ill they thought Tam looked. Jimmy Scott was with them too, being as bumptious as ever, Sophie thought, but Tam seemed pleased to see them all.
‘Mrs Telfer, you look bonny and well,’ Boz beamed, his face ruddy with sunburn. ‘Tam,’ he greeted his old friend, ‘you must hae come into money to be staying here.’
‘Nothing but the best for my wife,’ Tam grinned and held out a bony hand. He dropped his voice. ‘We’re not broadcasting it yet, but there’ll be a Telfer nipper in the spring.’
Boz pumped his hand vigorously, making Tam wince. ‘Congratulations.’ Then he bent and gave Sophie a kiss on the cheek.
The foresters gathered round the table and began to talk about their jobs, catching up on the past months. Jimmy was full of how well he had done in Rawalpindi. ‘Doubled the production in the resin factory,’ he boasted. ‘Had to sack half the local staff – lazy, thieving lot.’
Boz complained about the heat of Baluchistan. ‘Like putting your heid in the oven every day. I’d give ma right arm for a wee bit o’ monsoon.’
But it appeared that he liked the people and there was plenty of entertainment in the large army cantonment. ‘My polo’s improving.’
‘That’ll impress Bracknall,’ Tam said.
‘It’ll take more than that,’ Boz grunted. ‘What I need is a bonny wife like you.’
Sophie blushed, uncomfortable at the mention of their boss.
‘Sorry to hear you’ve been sick again Telfer. And coming after that scandal on your Chamba trip – very bad luck,’ Jimmy said, eyeing her. ‘Khan behaving dishonourably.’
Tam reddened.
‘Lay off Jimmy,’ Boz warned.
‘Must have been awful for you, Mrs Telfer,’ he needled, ‘cut off on a mountainside with a wog forester.’
Tam leaned over the table and grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t you speak to my wife like that. Nothing happened. It’s just bloody gossip.’
Jimmy shook him off easily. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, though his tone was mocking. ‘Still Bracknall couldn’t take any chances; Khan was bringing his department into disrepute. And on top of all that, having a brother for a traitor – that one who got arrested for setting fire to the Governor’s car.’
‘That was nothing to do with Rafi,’ Sophie protested. ‘He doesn’t agree with any of that.’
Tam gave her a strang
e look. He was breaking out in a sweat.
Jimmy went on. ‘So the Chief had to get rid of him, didn’t he?’
‘Get rid?’ Sophie echoed. ‘So he’s left the Service?’
Jimmy gave a pitying look. ‘Sacked weeks ago. Does Tam not keep you informed down in – where have you been? – Changa something?’
Boz cut in. ‘Shut up Scott.’ He glanced at his friends awkwardly. ‘It’s a sad business.’
Sophie felt kicked in the stomach. She could tell from Tam’s lack of surprise that he already knew.
‘Bracknall couldn’t put up with his insubordination,’ Jimmy said with glee, ‘and the way he tried to kidnap you–’
‘Kidnap?’ Sophie cried. ‘He did no such thing.’
‘Well he’ll never get work in the Indian Civil Service again, that’s for sure,’ Jimmy said. ‘You should be pleased, Telfer, that Bracknall was defending the honour of your wife. Khan won’t be able to bother her again.’
Sophie felt her head swim, her heart palpitating. She had ruined Rafi’s career. It had been pure chance that they had been stuck on the mountain together, but she had welcomed it. She had never felt so alive and in love as during those magical hours with just her and Rafi talking and laughing under a starlit sky. If only she hadn’t confided in him about Bracknall and the baby, perhaps Rafi would have kept his temper and the whole affair might have blown over.
Bracknall was never going to defend his young forester from the firestorm of gossip once Rafi had laid hands on him. Besides, she had seen the raw jealousy in his face whenever Rafi talked to her; now Bracknall had taken revenge. The only consolation was that Bracknall appeared not to have pressed charges for assault.
‘Is he still in Lahore?’ Tam asked, as if he read her thoughts.
‘God knows,’ said Jimmy, ‘and who cares?’ He slid Sophie a triumphant look.
‘It’s a waste of a good forester and a good man,’ said Boz.
‘Well I wouldn’t waste any sympathy over him. His family have potfuls of money. He probably doesn’t need to work. That’s the trouble with rich Indians; they just play at having a job. They don’t have the work ethic of us British.’
Boz snapped. ‘Rafi was as hard-working as any of us – loved his job. I for one am sad to see him gang. He’ll be much missed in the department. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To work wi’ men like Rafi and bring on the native foresters so they can run it for themselves.’
Sophie wanted to hug him for defending his old friend. She waited for Tam to back him up, but he said nothing.
‘That’ll be a long time coming,’ Jimmy was disdainful. ‘They’ll not be ready for that while we’re in the job.’
Sophie was reminded of Rafi’s optimism that India would see independence from Britain in his lifetime. She wondered if his sacking had smothered his hopes and dreams.
‘Stop fretting over Khan,’ Jimmy said. ‘No doubt his rich new father-in-law Sarfraz will give him a comfy job in his bank.’
Sophie’s throat dried. ‘He’s married then?’
Boz nodded. ‘It was in the C and M Gazette last week. Khan and the banker Sarfraz’s daughter.’
‘Probably only got a mention,’ Jimmy sniffed, ‘because of his notorious brother.’
Sophie could bear no more of his poisonous words. She stood up.
‘I’m not feeling well,’ she told Tam. ‘I’ll just go and lie down for a bit.’
‘Shall I take you, lassie?’ Tam asked in concern.
‘No, you stay and catch up with your friends.’
She couldn’t get away from them fast enough. In the sanctuary of the plush bedroom, Sophie sank onto the bed.
‘Oh, Rafi! I’m so sorry,’ she gulped and gave way to tears of desolation.
***
The following day, Tam suggested they take a walk in the Shalimar Gardens, but Sophie couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the place Rafi had taken her on a picnic. She didn’t want to go anywhere near the old city either, though she had no idea if he was still living there.
‘Let’s take a walk around Golf Road,’ she suggested ‘and see what’s for rent.’
Tam was pleased with the suggestion. They didn’t talk about the unpleasant encounter with Jimmy Scott and Rafi was never mentioned, though Sophie was sure Tam must be thinking about him too.
That evening as Tam made ready for the dinner that Bracknall was laying on at the Gymkhana Club for his department, he said, ‘Will you be all right on your own here? I wish I could take you along but wives are not invited.’
‘I’ll be fine. It’s a lovely evening. I might go out for a stroll before dinner – walk up the Mall and see where we were married.’
‘You sentimental lassie,’ Tam gave a wan smile, adjusting his bow tie in the mirror. His collar was far too loose around his neck now and his dinner suit looked too big. ‘Don’t go too far. And if it’s getting dark, take a tonga back.’
He kissed her head and left whistling.
‘Good luck,’ she called after him.
On her way past the Cecil Hotel, Sophie spotted Boz having a cigarette on the steps.
‘Just delaying the moment where I have to gang and lick Bracknall’s boots.’
‘That man,’ Sophie said, her teeth clenching. ‘I wish they’d promote him to Delhi and we’d all be rid of him.’
Boz raised his eyebrows. ‘Thought the Bracknalls were like parents to you and Tam?’
Sophie shook her head. ‘I hate him. He’s vindictive and sly – nice to your face but not behind your back. Look at the way he’s treated Rafi. And sending you to Quetta because you’re not posh enough for Lahore. I’m just frightened that–’
‘What?’ Boz ground out his cigarette and steered Sophie onto a bench under an acacia tree. ‘Tell me.’
‘That Tam won’t get the job he wants because of the fuss over me and Rafi,’ Sophie whispered.
‘Bracknall knows Tam’s a good forester. But to be truthful, I’m shocked to see how his health’s got worse. If he doesn’t get the job it won’t be because of you, Sophie, it’ll be ‘cos the Chief doesn’t think he’s physically up to it.’
‘Oh Boz, I don’t think Tam could cope with not getting promotion. It would be the last straw.’
Boz touched her hand. ‘Whatever happens, Tam is lucky tae have you by his side, lassie. I’m glad about the bairn. It’s what he’s always wanted for as long as I’ve known him. So things are good for you both, no?’
Sophie didn’t answer. They stood up. ‘Boz,’ Sophie stopped him. ‘What do you mean he’s always wanted a child?’
‘I think it was the War brought it hame to him – the thought that you could be snuffed oot at any minute.’
‘Was there someone special to Tam in France?’
Boz looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s not for me to say.’
‘Someone he wanted to have a child with?’ she pressed.
‘Tam wouldnae want us talking of this.’
‘But that time in Bombay you tried to tell me something about Tam in France, didn’t you?’ When he didn’t deny it, she went on. ‘Please Boz.’
Boz sighed. ‘There was a lassie he was fond of, aye. Her father was an American wine merchant – gave us lads entertainment when we were on local leave in the War. Then when Tam got injured, she nursed him. But she was older and thought Tam too young for her. Her father was against their getting wed too. But that’s all in the past; it’s you he’s married.’
‘But he wanted to marry her?’ Sophie swallowed. When Boz didn’t deny it, she pressed him. ‘When Tam went back to France on your final field trip – after he’d started seeing me – did he go to her? Was that what you were trying to tell me – warn me before I got married?’
‘Oh lassie, it’s not right to talk about it now. You chose Tam and I could see that nothing would put you off.’
‘Knowing about Nancy Bannerman might have.’
He flinched in shock. ‘You know her name then?’ he said, fluster
ed.
‘I came across a boxful of letters. They’ve been writing to each other since he came out here. They didn’t stop after the wedding.’
‘Oh, the daft man!’
‘So you didn’t know?’
‘Of course not,’ Boz insisted. ‘We argued about him seeing her in France. I told him he was being unfair to you.’
Sophie’s stomach clenched. ‘Why did he see her? Was he still trying to get her to marry him?’
Boz’s look was full of pity. ‘Aye.’
‘But she turned him down?’
Boz nodded. ‘As long as her father was alive she wouldn’t go against his wishes. Old Bannerman wanted her to marry into money.’
‘So I was always his second choice,’ Sophie said with a bitter laugh.
‘The best choice,’ Boz said, seizing her hand. ‘Tam knows that now.’
‘So why is he still writing to his former sweetheart?’ Sophie demanded.
Boz shook his head with incomprehension. ‘Maybe he just sees her now as an old friend – a confidante – and means nothing by it.’
‘That’s what I was hoping.’
‘Well then, dinna’ let Nancy come between you two. Tell him you know about the letters and you want them to stop.’
‘Thank you Boz.’ She squeezed his hand then let go. ‘I hope you find someone good enough for you one day.’
For a moment he stood looking down at her with a look of regret in his eyes and Sophie remembered that Tam’s tall friend had once been sweet on her. Then they parted.
The call to prayer was sounding out across the rooftops. Sophie’s mind was in turmoil. She felt that she was hanging onto her life in India by her fingernails; she and Tam had too many secrets from each other. She wondered suddenly if her own parents had been like this? If she forced herself to remember, the adult world had not been one of kisses and sweet words but of shouting and tears.
Would she and Tam make unhappy parents for their child? Sophie’s insides lurched to think how her own parents had died of fever – how her father had often been sick and bad-tempered like Tam. She felt a great weight of foreboding. Backtracking to the hotel, she no longer had any wish to revisit the Anglican cathedral where she had wed Tam with such high hopes for their future together. What fools they had been, she thought savagely. Tam had probably being writing to Nancy on the eve of his wedding – and she had already been falling in love with Rafi.
THE PLANTER'S BRIDE: A story of intrigue and passion: sequel to THE TEA PLANTER'S DAUGHTER (India Tea Series Book 2) Page 33
