by Rumer Godden
‘Now, now,’ said Hannah. ‘That enough.’ She took Artemis from Michael, who stood helpless. ‘It shock, Sahib,’ Hannah told him, ‘and maybe too much exciting today. You tired out, baba. Hannah put you to bed. I just put Miss Sanni to bed,’ she told Michael over Artemis’s head. ‘Now, baba, come with Hannah.’
To Michael’s surprise, Artemis went.
Samuel looked after them. ‘Missy Sahib, she friend of all the village, most of all Veeranna. I think all of us in shock, Michael Sahib.’
‘Yes. What did they do when he died?’
‘They send for Miss Sanni – always they send for Miss Sanni – but it was Colonel McIndoe Sahib who came. He turn everyone out of the workshop and made them keep distance. He find Inspector Dutta by telephone, who say he come quickly as he can. Meanwhile no one must go in or touch anything. Colonel put Thambi – he just back on the coach – in front, village headman behind, young policeman to patrol. People must go back to their homes.’
‘If they will,’ said Michael.
‘I think they watch,’ Samuel agreed. Michael turned away from the portico steps. ‘Sahib, they let no one in.’
‘I won’t go near. I only want to see what is happening now.’
As he came close the drumbeat sounded louder, and he was right: the crowd of men was still standing under the trees; women were wailing in their houses. When he saw Michael, Thambi, who had been sitting on his haunches, stood up. ‘It’s all right, Thambi, I know I mustn’t go in. I just came to see how things were.’
Thambi averted his head so as not to show Michael his grief. ‘Sahib very good. Good night.’
‘Not a good night now. This is bad,’ said Michael. A great weariness was overtaking him as he went back.
‘Samuel, is Missy Sahib in bed?’ he managed to ask.
‘Hannah say, soon as she lie down she asleep, tired out.’
‘Me too.’ Michael tottered as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry to desert you but I think I’ll have to go to bed.’ He could hardly reach the stairs and had to hold on to the banisters, but Samuel was beside him and steered him to his room.
He fell on his bed and was only just aware of Samuel taking off his shoes and covering him with a blanket before he slept.
‘Michael! Michael, wake up.’ It was a fierce whisper in his ear, and someone was shaking him firmly. ‘Wake up!’
‘But I’ve only just gone to sleep.’
‘It’s morning.’
He sat up, trying to fight off layers of sleep. ‘It’s dark.’
He was about to turn over, back into sleep again, when he realized it was Artemis. ‘Artemis. What’s happening?’
‘Ssh!’ She pulled off the blanket. ‘Thank God you’re dressed. Find your shoes and come on. There’s something I want to show you.’
‘Now? It’s still dark.’
‘Not outside. It’s dawn. Hurry, before anyone is up.’
Still half asleep, he put on his shoes, smoothed his rumpled clothes, ran a comb through his hair.
‘Never mind that. We need to go before anyone’s awake, and it’s quite a way.’
But Michael had recovered his senses. ‘I can’t be long. I have to see Inspector Dutta as soon as he comes.’
‘There’s plenty of time to do that. Come on.’
At the foot of the stairs he turned towards the portico but she stopped him. ‘Not that way. We’ll go along the beach – then the village won’t see us.’
‘Us?’
‘You and me. Natram and Mahdhoo.’
‘They’re here!’
‘I ordered them. You see, I planned this yesterday.’
They went through the garden, still wet with dew – soon the gardeners would be flailing the lawns with long bamboo rods to stop the sun scorching the wet grass – and, as Artemis and Michael came on to the beach, there beside the high diving board, the great shape of Natram stood waiting and ready.
Mahdhoo and Natram salaamed, then the elephant knelt down. There was no howdah, only a pad fastened with ropes. Mahdhoo stretched down to give Artemis a hand but she was so lithe that she swung herself up easily. Michael was more clumsy: he put his foot against Natram’s side to lever himself up on a rope, and slipped back. Mahdhoo spoke. Natram turned his head and his trunk came round: Michael felt its enormous strength as he was lifted up so that he could scramble on to the pad. Artemis laughed. ‘Sometimes Natram just picks me up and puts me on his back.’
Natram stood up and began to walk along the beach.
It was beginning to be light, with the sky brightening over the sea, the surf in the waves shining white. Natram walked through the ripples, which he seemed to like, spraying his legs as he went. Do elephants get footsore, Michael wondered. He was surprised, too, at how fast Natram went with a half-rolling, half-swaying gait. It almost lulled him to sleep again.
As soon as they were far enough out of the village, Mahdhoo turned Natram inland. They went through a patch of jungle towards the hills. Natram was a well-trained elephant: if a branch overhung their way, at a command from Mahdhoo, his trunk came up to break it off, in case it hit his passengers. When they came out from the trees on to a swampy patch he tested the ground with a cautious foot before he would venture. Presently they began to climb into the cooler air of the hills. Again, Michael would have gone to sleep but he was aware of Artemis, sitting upright. She seemed oddly tense, her face, in the growing dawn light, resolute and stern.
‘Artemis?’
‘Ssh.’
‘But where are you taking me?’
‘You’ll see – and see why.’
‘It is something that, of us all, only Auntie Sanni and I know.’
Natram had begun to go downwards instead of climbing and there, in a cleft of the hills, inset so that it looked across higher hills to a vista of the sea, was a little temple. As the elephant went steadily down an old path and they came nearer, Michael saw that it was walled with small bricks, perhaps made of natural earth, baked in the sun; in the growing light they were already touched with faint gold. The roof had a dome of tiles that matched, and there was a small portico of stone in which hung a bell. ‘No one but I has rung it for years. No one comes here now, not even a priest,’ said Artemis.
Natram had knelt to let them get down and Mahdhoo took from the pad a bundle of sugar cane. ‘Natram’s breakfast,’ said Artemis. ‘I wish I could have brought tea for us but I didn’t want anyone to see us go.’
‘Kachiyundu, stay,’ Mahdhoo told Natram, as he stood up.
‘Mahdhoo loves this temple,’ said Artemis. ‘Come and look.’
The courtyard was small, and had in its centre a statue of a bull carved from local stone. It stood looking into the temple, and its eyes, as if in awe, were strangely eloquent. ‘He seems to see something there,’ said Michael.
‘He does,’ and Artemis explained, ‘He is Nandi, Shiva’s emblem. Hindu gods love their animal representatives, and as Shiva is new life, women pray to Nandi for a son.’
‘Would you like a son, Artemis?’
‘If it could be with the person I love. Yes.’
He would have taken her in his arms and kissed her but she said, ‘No, Michael, not here,’ and she told him, ‘Auntie Sanni, when she was younger, used to come here to make her puja and so do I.’
‘To Shiva?’
‘Shiva and God.’
Artemis swung the tasselled bell, sending its deep note far over the hills. ‘Go in, Michael.’
The temple was almost bare: there was only a low shelf with a tray holding dipas – little lamps of clay shaped like a leaf – but there was no oil in them, no tiny floating wick. On the floor was a small fireplace made of bricks and full of cold ash; by it a poker and a pair of bellows were covered with dust. Then Michael saw a small inner door. ‘What’s in there?’
‘Nothing,’ said Artemis, ‘which is why it is so sacred. There is room only for the god and you, and if you go in you have to lose yourself and find Him. If you take as much as a notebook
in, you cut yourself off. And you don’t kneel or pray, you simply stand and take darshan, which means “look”. Hindus believe that if you look for long enough, something will come deep into you from what you look at. This little room is called the womb-house because, as only God is there, with His power of life, you can, as it were, be born again.’
‘Even me, an outsider?’
‘There are no outsiders here.’
‘Come in with me.’
‘I don’t go in. I have never particularly wanted to be alone with God,’ and she said, ‘Michael, come outside now because I must tell you why I brought you here.’ Outside, sitting on the grass, she said, ‘When you win your case against Cromartie, and I’m sure you will, will you use your influence and ask the Indian Government to do what Auntie Sanni and I so much want them to do, which is to let the Shiva come home here, and the temple be made fit for him?’
‘I wish I could.’ At that moment he truly did. ‘But, darling, I have no influence.’
‘I was afraid you would say that. Oh, well. It will probably be put into a museum. A pity, when you seemed to understand so well,’ and she was gone, back into the courtyard where she stood, looking at the far line of sea showing in the cleft; one hand was stroking the little Nandi bull and she seemed to be struggling against tears.
Michael had followed her with determined steps. Now he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Artemis. You didn’t bring me here simply to see the temple and talk about Auntie Sanni.’ He gave her a gentle shake and felt her trembling. ‘There’s something else, isn’t there? You brought me here because?’
It came with a rush. ‘I thought it was a good place to say goodbye.’
‘Goodbye!’
‘Yes, I’m leaving.’
‘Leaving?’ He was dazed.
‘Yes, and I want to thank you. It has been lovely, Michael. For me it was love for the first time in my life.’ Her eyes were lit to an extraordinary blue as she said, ‘Perhaps the first time in yours too?’
‘Yes.’ He tightened his arms.
‘But I have done all I had to do here.’ Artemis broke away. ‘Ellen understands. I have to go.’
‘Go where?’
‘I don’t know yet. Anywhere but here.’
It sounded so forlorn that he wanted to hold her close again but he felt he had to keep to practical things.
‘When?’
‘Now. Today. As soon as we get back.’
‘And where are you going?’
‘I don’t know. Anywhere. Just go.’
‘You’re not.’ Michael took her even more firmly into his arms. ‘When you leave here, you leave with me.’
‘With you? Today?’
‘If you insist.’
‘I must.’
‘Then there’s no point in my staying here, is there?’ asked Michael.
‘Inspector Dutta?’
‘With poor Veeranna dead?’
‘Don’t.’ She hid her face.
‘I have to. Inspector Dutta is not going to get any further. He can’t find out any more from Sri Satya Narayana. The Government will have to accept that the case must be a straightforward battle as to who gets the Shiva. I can deal with that in London better than here. Say goodbye to Nandi because we must go.’
‘If only we could.’
‘We can. I’ll just have to see Inspector Dutta and, of course, Auntie Sanni. You pack. We’ll drive to the airport – it only takes half an hour – catch the one o’clock flight to Calcutta. I’ll have to drop the car off. In Calcutta, madam, I’m going to buy you a ring – an engagement ring, Artemis. We’ll catch the night flight home to London and as soon as possible we’ll be married and I’ll never let you out of my sight again.’ He stood up, ‘Mahdhoo! Mahdhoo! Bring Natram. Be quick.’
Natram brought them back the way they had come and put them down on the beach, but when Michael turned towards the garden, Artemis caught his hand. ‘I feel so dirty. Let’s have a swim before anyone comes down.’
‘Without Thambi?’
‘I’ll take care of you,’ she teased, ‘or you can stay in the shallows. We can go in just as we are – there’s no one to see.’ But there was. Samuel was hastening down the garden. At the same moment, Auntie Sanni appeared on the veranda, Professor Ellen beside her. Ellen looking after her ewe lamb to the last, thought Michael, but she was not smiling, neither did Auntie Sanni wave and, as Samuel with Thambi came nearer, he saw consternation on their faces.
‘Missy Sahib,’ Samuel said. ‘Inspector Dutta, he want to see you in his office soon as you come in. At once.’
For a moment Artemis did not move.
‘Missy Sahib.’
Then Artemis dropped Michael’s hand and stood clear. ‘If Inspector Dutta wants me, tell him I am here in the garden,’ and when Samuel had gone, ‘Michael, please stay. I think I’m going to need you.’
Unusually indulgent, the Inspector came. ‘Well, I wanted a full story and I thought she would tell it better here,’ he told Michael. He brought his two policemen – the sergeant with his notebook. They stood at a respectful distance. ‘Miss Knox, you went last night with your group to Konakpur and the Gul Mahal?’
‘I didn’t go with the group. Mr Dean kindly drove me.’
‘I gather it is an important evening in your itinerary so it was necessary you should be there. Why did you come back?’
‘I had forgotten my notes. I was to give a talk on Indian classical dancing and had to have them.’
‘Is that really why?’
‘I’ve told you. I had forgotten my notes.’
‘Very convenient.’
‘Inconvenient,’ Artemis corrected him, ‘but Mr Dean kindly came with me and drove like the wind.’
‘Yet you found time to go to the village.’
‘The village? Of course I didn’t go to the village. Ask Mr Dean. He’ll tell you. He was with me all the time.’
‘All the time?’
‘Yes. Weren’t you, Michael?’ As she looked at him her eyes held not only a plea but a challenge that said as clearly as if they had spoken, ‘I thought you loved me. Well, show it. Show it now.’
“All the time, Mr Dean?’
The Inspector was like a hound on the scent and Michael was forced to say, ‘Except when you went upstairs to get your notes.’
‘Coward,’ said Artemis’s eyes, but aloud she said, ‘I was only a few minutes.’
‘How long is a few minutes? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Half an hour? Mr Dean?’
‘Perhaps half an hour.’
‘I had to check the notes through, be sure I had them all.’
‘But you have just said—’
‘Listen, Hem,’ Michael interrupted, ‘I don’t know what the hell is in your mind but stop heckling. I was waiting in the car under the portico the whole time. The hall was lit and I could see right into it to the stairs. If Artemis had come down before she got the notes I should have seen her.’
‘Patna Hall has a back staircase,’ said Inspector Dutta.
‘That doesn’t mean I use it.’
‘No? Then if Mr Dean did not see you how is it that someone else did?’
‘But there was no one about.’ Always quick as mercury, Artemis realized she had betrayed herself.
‘No? Shyama, I think, has no need to tell lies.’
‘Shyama?’
‘Remember Thambi had gone on the coach to help at the Gul Mahal with the ladies’ rickshaws. You were wearing a scarlet coat and a headscarf but she knew you and was surprised to see you and, being curious, followed when you went, she says, to Veeranna’s house.’
‘It’s her word against mine.’
‘Shyama, as I think I told you, does not tell lies, and she is discreet. She did not tell anyone what she had seen until Thambi came home.’
‘I can explain.’
‘Good. There will have to be more than a little explanation. Can you, for instance, explain why, when you were in such a hurry, you fo
und time to go and see Veeranna? Shyama says you were having a drink together.’
‘So? Veeranna loves whisky but can only afford palm-tree toddy so I often take him a bottle and we have a drink together.’
‘But not, I think, that drink. Tell me what this was doing hidden in Veeranna’s house. Isn’t it part of the equipment of the film unit you brought over two years ago, a small tripod?’
‘Yes, to do with the lights. They call it baby spider’s legs. Oh, Veeranna, you promised you would sell it. Poor, stupid Veeranna.’ Holding herself tightly, Artemis was rocking backwards and forwards in an agony of grief.
‘Miss Knox,’ said Inspector Dutta firmly, ‘I think the time has come for you to tell me what you have been planning and doing at Patna Hall these last – it seems – three or four years, but I must warn you that everything you say will be taken down.’ The sergeant, with his notebook, came nearer. ‘Then I will ask you to read it through and sign it.’
‘No need,’ said Artemis. She was calm now. ‘I won’t tell you,’ she was still scornful, ‘but I want to tell Michael, Professor Ellen and Auntie Sanni, although I’m sure Auntie Sanni knows, and tell Samuel, Hannah and Thambi – all the people who matter. I should very much like to tell them. Then I should feel clean, and you,’ she flung at the Inspector, ‘can listen and take down anything you choose, but here in the garden. None of your offices. Michael, would you call everyone?’
When they came she said, as if she was a hostess in her own drawing room, ‘I have to begin at the beginning so this may take a long time. Wouldn’t you like to sit down?’ Auntie Sanni sat on the low wall that edged the lawn. The rest stood tense.
‘Up to now, I have been very clever and ambitious.’ Artemis’s look was on Michael. ‘Almost up to now, when it’s too late. That’s ironic, isn’t it?’ She gave a hard little laugh. No one else laughed.
‘I was an only child, which is just as well for everyone.’ She was standing facing them, wearing the orange dress she had worn last night, crumpled now. Her hair had come down, dishevelled, and she had a smudge on one cheek, but to Michael she had never seemed more beautiful. ‘My father was an archaeologist, quite well known. Professor Arnold Knox.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Professor Ellen, ‘and so good-looking. I knew him quite well but not that he had a wife and child.’
