“I never thought of it like that.”
“The exhibition is more than entertainment.It’s a piece of propaganda and is making two national identities: for England and for India.”
We fall into silence and my eyes run over Leo’s face, memorizing it in this particular light.I’ve already done the same for his face in the morning light, the afternoon light, Westminster Abbey light, and carriage light.I’ve only got a few more times of the day left to add to my collection of memories before I’ll have hoarded them all.For those lonely nights.Wherever I end up.Whenever I end up.
Leo notices my open staring and clears his throat.“It is not over yet.I hope you are awake enough for this, but if you are tired we can reschedule for another night.I want you to enjoy this fully.”
“Not a chance.”Not only do I want to find out where we’re going because he’s been talking it up all day, there won’t be many other nights for us, even if my chest aches at the thought.Not that he knows that.And I won’t be enlightening him.“I drank some chai at the exhibition just so I would be caffeinated and ready.”
“You are game for adventure.I admire that greatly about you.”
His compliment tugs at my heart, which has already had too much action today, from the euphoric realization that I love him to the immediate emotional punch that I won’t be able to have him.“I get one more question, right?”I ask, even though I’m no closer to guessing where he’s taking us than I was this morning.
“All right; I shall risk it.One more before we get there.”
“Do you go there often?”I smile at the pickup line that isn’t a pickup line for another hundred years.And not even a good one at that.
But if I only have one question and we’re heading there anyway, I might as well use it to get more information out of Leo about himself.
“I used to go, not often, but more often than I do now.Which is hardly ever.Both then and now, it was somewhere to go if friends were going.”I see a light red appear on his cheeks, and I commit it to memory too.Under: Leo in the early evening light, with a blush, in a carriage.
I’m so screwed.
I shake my head to focus on his answer.That’s a lot of hedging.On the slight chance I wasn’t ravenous to know what Leo has been building up all day, now I’m even more curious.
Leo tries to distract me from the inquisition, getting out a basket with some food he brought for the long, fun day.He thought of everything.
“I think I’m still full from what we ate at the exhibition.”
Leo pushes the basket at me anyway.“You may want something in your stomach before the evening’s activities.”
I warily take it.“All right.If you say so.”I take a tentative bite of some bread.“Is alcohol going to be involved?”
“Only if you want it to be.But best to be prepared either way.”
“Hmm…alcohol, scandalous crimes, young men carousing?—”
“I know you possess the intelligence to easily guess the answer.And I can see you are getting close.But since we are almost there, it may be more fun to allow surprise to have the final say?”
“I can’t turn my brain off, but I’ll try for you.You may want to distract me in case my brain doesn’t get the message and tries to deductively reason against my will.”
“Shall I tell you about all my glorious stories of my travels?”
“Oh yes!But tell me more about theinglorious stories, please.”
Leo shakes his head at me.“Curious woman.But all right.I will tell you all the stories about my travels that I thought were not fit for a lady.”
“I’ll even ignore the fact that you just said that, in the spirit of charity.”But breaking my promise almost immediately, I glare at him for the sexist sentiment.
Leo spends the rest of the trip telling me about his “educational” trips around Europe, visiting France, Germany, Italy and Greece.Educational in the sense that he ate great food, drank all the wine and had flings more often than he saw history.He does mention the art he bought and commissioned on his trips, some of which I saw in his family home.
Since I can’t turn off the historian in me, I take notes while laughing at his stories, multitasking.He’s living proof that an Indian person could live well in England and be happy.Just like Sophia Singh, walking her dogs in Hampton Court Palace where she lives and getting involved with women’s suffrage and the Indian community in London.Or Catherine Singh, falling in love with her governess Lina, and living with her in Germany until Lina passes.Or Frederick Singh, living the life of a country gentleman, with his love for English history and membership in antiquarian societies.
And that was just one Indian family (possibly the most written about).There were countless students, ayahs, lascars, teachers, professionals, princes and more who made their home in England, with various degrees of struggle and happiness.Because everyone had a unique experience, and it is naïve to think none of them could have had happy lives.
Then the carriage stops and Leo trails off in the middle of a story involving a marble tiger, an Italian countess, and a thousand-year-old Roman tomb.I want to hear about the rest of the story, but I want to find out where we are even more.
I reach for the carriage door handle and Leo covers my hand with his, stilling my movement.I tug at his hand.“You’ve been building this up all day.I want to see it.Now.”I’m going to explode with curiosity if I don’t get to find out soon.It’s my job and nature to be curious, as Leo points out, and I can’t contain it.
