In the Shadow of a Dream

by Sharad Keskar

  He turned towards her. His eyes rested on her face then travelled down to her firm round breasts. Her chest was heaving. He shook his head. ‘No Aruna. But now about Leela. Are you happy for her? In two weeks Leela will be married?’

  ‘Yes, master. Master very kind and good to us. But my husband, he not care.’

  Dusty frowned. ‘He cares, Aru, he cares. Jai will be good for Leela. He is a good young man, and a Christian, like you and Leela.’

  ‘He tell Leela about how he became Christian in Kalimpong. But we Catholics. Jai, he prostitute.’

  Dusty chuckled. ‘You mean, Protestant. Do you mind that?’

  ‘No, no. He say to Leela, he marry in Catholic Church. St Thomas. It’s okay.’

  ‘I went to a St Thomas’s School in Bombay. Many years ago. But that was Church of England. Good. Yes, okay. I will write to madam about the wedding.’

  ‘You get chitty today? Madam’s letter?’

  Dusty nodded. ‘Goodnight Aruna. Shut the door after you.’ He watched her leave, then resting his elbows on the table, he bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair. Alone, deeply miserable he felt unloved and sorry for himself. With a long sigh he stood up, drank from the tall glass in one long draught, looked at the fruit, picked up the oil lamp, took it to the veranda and collected his book. Then he froze. Pressed against the trellis, waving gently in the soft breeze, a bougainvillaea frond caught the light. It took him back to that night on the veranda of the Black Elephant Institute and the vision of Kitty caressing one such frond, after their first dance. He shook his head sadly, went into the bedroom and placed the lamp on the bedside table. There it was: her dreaded letter. He stared at it, sat down on the edge of the bed and picked it up. She had enclosed two photographs. One was of Ted with, according to the caption on the back, Kay. He thought they made a handsome couple, she a smaller, softer image of Lady Clementine Churchill. The other snap was of Kitty, smiling with the supreme confidence of one who knows she can never look ugly even if she tried. She had an arm round an open-faced young woman with friendly eyes and a broad mouth. So that was Alice! He put the photographs down and read the letter for the third time:

  “Darling D, I’m sorry if it seems as if I may never return. The days seem to fly. I so love to be with Alice. I could never leave her till I’m sure she is her happy self again. I know how you must miss me, but here I am with a sister I never had, a father I’ve always loved, a delightful little boy, and Kay, who mothers us all.

  “I write this letter, begging you to help me to make my mind up. And please don’t get cross. Try to understand and maybe you can help us to come to a decision that will be important for our future. I am so mixed up now. I’ve decided to spend some time in a convent, to find peace. The Nun in charge there is Mother Clare. Will write again as soon as I can. I love you as much as I ever did. Be patient because, dearest, I have IMPORTANT NEWS for you, but I need to make sure first. You will make up for all my absence, I know, when we’re together again!! Till then, Ever your doting Kitty.”

  Kitty sniffed and dabbed her eyes. ‘I’ve tried. I can’t do it alone.’ She stared sadly into the smiling eyes of the older woman, who looked frail and tiny in the large heavy oak chair she sat in. Kitty knelt before her and took her hands in hers. ‘Help me!’

  The woman leant forward and kissed her on the forehead, then she gently pushed Kitty away and stood up with some difficulty. ‘Come,’ she said, and her voice shook more than it did earlier. They walked to the mullion window and looked across a landscape of rolling hills. For a while they drank in the scene. ‘You see that ring of trees on top of that hill?’ The woman pointed with a shaking forefinger. ‘You can’t miss it, it’s the only hill with trees on it. We would walk to it, in dull winter afternoons. Just us. She and I. It was quiet, so peaceful; and so close to God.’

  Kitty frowned; a little puzzled. She studied the delicate, soft wrinkled profile next to her and wondered why she wore a wimple and the heavy long black habit, while the rest of the Order of St Mary Magdalene were more comfortably dressed in grey head- scarves, short plain grey dresses and black stockings. She saw a faint smile and a tear roll down the cheek of that serene face. The woman looked away. ‘You’re so like her,’ she said above a whisper. Then she sighed and turned to face to Kitty. ‘It’s never too late or wrong to change your mind. You are not meant for this life.’

  ‘Were you ever in love?’ Kitty asked, before she could check herself.

  ‘Oh, yes. Angelically beautiful she was too. I thought we were in love. Sandy took her away from me. I didn’t mind. He was right for her.’

  ‘Sandy? Yes, of course, Sandy! Oh, Sister Clare…’

  ‘Mother.’

  ‘Oh, Mother Clare! I should have known. I thought I knew, but I really didn’t.’

  ‘Why should you? You were a child then.’

  ‘So it was with Emma? Those walks on the hill?’

  Mother Clare smiled. ‘Yes, I loved her. Deeply, as only a woman can. I would tell myself that it cannot be wrong to love a woman. I did ask for God’s forgiveness; just in case I was wrong.’ She gave a light chuckle. ‘How do we know what we think is true? Plato asked that question. I suppose we all do.’ She looked out of the window. Her lips trembled. You are very like her.’ She opened her arms. Kitty clung to her. ‘Gently my child. I haven’t the strength to take your weight.’

  ‘Oh, Mother, it can’t be wrong. Even Dusty said he could understand homosexual love in women, because it was close to being pure and spiritual.’ She kissed the old woman thoughtfully on both cheeks. ‘Thank you for loving my beautiful Aunt Emma. People say I am an image of her, but I’ve never thought so. Her beauty had a rare quality, unearthly…How can I put it. I suppose, for want of a better word…spiritual.’

  ‘Indeed. That’s how it was between us. Spiritual. It gave me great comfort.’

  ‘And, Mother, when did you learn about Sandy and Emma…you know?’

  ‘Your father told me, almost as soon as he got the sad news. But now my dear, we must put the past behind us. Do you think of him a lot?’

  ‘Not for sometime…and not till now.’

  ‘My dear, you mustn’t deceive yourself, you’re still in love with your husband…what did you say his name is…I used to be good at names…Dusty. That’s a strange epithet.’

  ‘It’s from Dustoor; which is a Parsee name.’

  ‘You must go back to him. Especially, now that your father is no longer a worry to you. Remind me. Where did you say Dusty is?’

  ‘The Nilgiri Hills.’

  ‘And he’s still running his orphanage. That’s good work. Good work for you too.’

  ‘He’s obstinate. Refuses to come to England. It makes me cross.’

  ‘You must indulge people their little whims. Be loyal to him and worry less about loved ones here. And you are carrying his child.’

  ‘Yes. Oh, Mother,’ and Kitty broke down and sobbed.

  ‘You love him. I don’t think you’ll ever get over that. You are unhappy here, and when one is unhappy, one is filled with self-pity. And then you can serve neither God nor man. Go back to him child. Go, before it’s too late.’

  A week later Dusty received an Air Letter from Kitty. The handwriting was large and betrayed emotion. “Dearest Love, I write in haste. Remember my important news! You are going to be a father, quite soon. I am six months pregnant, so now, my sweet, you must meet me half way. I am prepared to do the same. Here’s the deal. If it’s a girl, I fly back to you. But if it’s a boy, you have to be brave and come over here. But whether it’s boy or girl, I’m going to have the baby in a hospital here in Winchester. Please understand. I am afraid. At my age having a baby is not without risk. And it is going to be a Caesarean birth. Will write at least once a week. I promise. Love you. K.

  PS I am praying for a boy, so that the family he
re will meet and congratulate you.”

  Kitty gave birth to a girl in the early hours of a Tuesday morning. Later that day Ted, Kay and Alice gathered round her bed. Ted kissed her. ‘Now I won’t have you looking disappointed. She’s an image of you, Cat, and we are all happy for you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Kay said, smiling down at Kitty. ‘She’s pure gold. You know, Tuesday’s child is full of grace.’ She gave a short, shy giggle. ‘Sorry, that’s a silly thing to say.’

  Alice said: ‘And darling. It couldn’t have turned out better. Look who is here!’

  They parted; and there, with a large bunch of red roses in his hand, stood Dusty.

  ‘Dusty! So you came!’ Her lips trembled.

  ‘I wanted it to be a girl,’ he said, ‘Truly, I did.’

  She shut her eyes and turned her head away.

  ‘Nothing was going to stop me seeing my daughter. Thank you for your letter.’

  She remained silent.

  ‘Kitty,’ Dusty raised his voice a little, to make sure she heard. ‘Congratulations!’

  She turned to look up at him, and burst into tears.’

  He was about to step forward, but felt Ted’s restraining hand. They waited. Then with sobs and tears, Kitty said. ‘Oh, my darling Sam, forgive me!’ Ted nudged Dusty. He went up and knelt by Kitty. ‘Yes, Dusty, it’s Sam. Dusty no longer.’

  ‘That’s fine by me. Sam Dustoor is the only name I have, on record.’

  EPILOGUE

  ‘I hope you don’t mind.’ Ted said. ‘But you did take your time. A long time.’

  ‘Mind about what?’

  ‘Kitty’s little sulk.

  ‘Oh, that. It didn’t register immediately. Jet lag. I’ll make up for lost time. I’ve not come here to be deterred by slight or tantrum. For that’s what it was…Was it not?’

  ‘Hardly a tantrum. Anyway, what are your plans?’

  ‘To return to India, before my visa expires.’

  ‘As her husband you’ll be entitled to stay on, in England.’

  ‘I couldn’t. It’s not what I…India’s home…but I won’t leave without them. I’m determined to go back with my family.’

  ‘I wholly approve. But give her time.’

  ‘My visa is for six months. They said I could extend it, but six should be enough.’

  ‘As I said, I’ll support you. Kay and Alice feel the same as…’

  ‘It’s been hell, living alone without Kitty. So I won’t take “no” from her.’

  ‘Good for you. Glad to hear that, and I’m certain she’ll go back with you. She’s been unsure of herself and unhappy too.’

  They remained silent for a while. Then Ted said. ‘Don’t give it another thought. She won’t say “no”. And Dusty…’

  ‘It’s Sam. Now and always. Sorry, do go on.’

  ‘You must believe me, when I say, we were always on your side. I told her she was wrong to stay away so long. But all is well that ends well. She’s ready to go. I’m glad you came. I may even accompany the three of you to India. No, I’ll come later, with Kay. She hasn’t been to India, so we’ll do the tourist round.’

  ‘Oh, I gather it took a lot of time and effort to finally get the ashes here. But that’s over and done with.’

  ‘Thank you. The mills of India grind, but they grind exceeding slow.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Indians don’t understand the impatience of the West. But, as Kafka said, somewhere, something like: impatience drove Adam and Eve out of Paradise, and impatience will prevent them returning.’

  ‘Good man.’

  ‘Or as they say in Indian English: Good man the laaltan.’

  ‘I’ve heard that before. “Laaltan” for lantern. Quite an eloquent metaphor: the man with a lighted lantern, showing the way.’

  Once again they were silent for a while. Then Ted took a deep breath.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Nothing, Dus—Sam. Well, I was remembering Sandy. Dear old Sandy. He was far too idealistic. England was his idea of Utopia. Sadly, he was let down.’

  ‘Now it’s my turn to quote. Gandhi said, if ideals can be realised, they cease to be ideals and leave nothing to strive or long for. Or words to that effect, as they say in the army.’ Sam chuckled. ‘But something in its place can be achieved, a utopian end.’

  ‘Sam, utopias are dead states. They lack aims and endeavours. To fling Gandhi back at you. I think he said of utopias that they debilitate. The utopian status quo is hard to maintain. Always there is someone ready to take advantage, an unearned advantage, an undeserved benefit. The few exploiting the goodwill of the majority.’

  ‘But Sandy’s love for England, I gather, had great charm.’

  ‘Indeed, and it was impossible to argue with him. He had a disarming sense of logic that was hard gainsay. Once, we were talking about African states and the problems of their governments. “What went wrong,” I asked. “India was ruled by the British, but it is a democracy.” “I’ll tell you what’s wrong”, he said, “the British were not there long enough. Another fifty years would have made all the difference.” ’

  ‘He might have a point. As philosophers say, it’s an incorrigible truth.’

  Ted turned to face Sam and raised his brows. ‘Kitty warned me about you. Your breadth of knowledge through reading.’ He laughed, put an affectionate arm round Sam and squeezed him. ‘Take good care of Kitty.’

  Sam returned the hug. ‘I’m too old to call you Dad. Yes, I will.’

  ‘You look young enough to be my son.’

  ‘You never know, Ted, we may be back here after a few years. A mother and daughter could make a formidable team.’

  ‘Well, this is Kitty’s house.’

  ‘Ted, you’ll receive the Queen’s telegram on your hundredth birthday. But tell me, if Sandy didn’t revise his feelings for England, after those thugs beat him up, what was there to prevent him returning?’

  ‘Emma. He knew how much she loved Fern Cottage and, above all, her garden. But I suppose there was also the possibility that she could never forgive or forget that England let him down. Shall we, they’re calling us in for lunch. By the way, what do you think of Davy, Alice’s son?’

  ‘He’s so like Dinesh. And Alice is so devoted to him.’

  ‘As Kay is devoted to Alice.’

  ‘Yes.’ Sam caught Ted’s arm. ‘Did Kitty tell you I saw Emma and Sandy, briefly?’

  ‘She told me. Sam, I can’t tell you how good it is for me to know they’re here, feel they are here, in this house, in Winchester, where they first met. I brought them back. Right or wrong, for Sandy, home is England.’

  The End