‘No.’
There was a long silence. Dottie was the first to speak again. She gazed at Eliza and gave her a half smile. ‘You can’t not go either, can you?’
Eliza hung her head, too full of mixed emotions to reply.
‘So?’ Dottie said. ‘From what he says here …’ She tapped the note, then handed it back to Eliza. ‘You only have an hour before the car arrives to collect you.’
‘I can’t. Clifford would be furious.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ll hate me. You’ll all hate me.’
‘I would never do that. You’re the first real friend I’ve made in Rajputana. I was so looking forward to you living next door, but I do understand, you know. I’ve seen you with Clifford: seen you shrink from his touch, even though you do your best to hide it.’
Eliza felt ashamed, but even his voice grated on her. She chewed the inside of her cheek before she spoke. ‘If I go and Jay doesn’t want me?’
‘It’s a risk. You should go, but if you decide you want to come back you must end it with Jay. Irrevocably. I am not being unkind but you have to make a decision and stick to it.’
Eliza got to her feet at the same time as Dottie, and the two women embraced.
‘You’ve been very kind to me, Dottie.’
Dottie grinned. ‘I’ll always be here. And, in the meantime, I’ll tell Clifford you have gone away for a little break with a friend of mine.’
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Eliza left to go to Jay. What would happen she didn’t know, but not to go would be like turning her back on herself. During the journey images of him seared her mind and left her jumpy, the feelings of anticipation not quite overriding the fear that he might not even be there.
She wound down the window and a beggar smiled at her, so she threw some rupees out of the window for him and it seemed like an auspicious thing to happen. She smiled at herself. Was she already turning native, as the Brits would say? If she was, she didn’t care. She felt free, the blood singing in her veins. Wonderfully, thrillingly native, that’s what I’ll be, she whispered, and the words bubbled about in her head until she became quite dizzy.
The feeling of nervous anticipation continued as they passed a string of camels on their way out of a village. Further on she spotted farmers and young boys driving their bullocks onwards. Her driver carried on through villages of mud huts with thatched roofs, and it was only then that the doubts crept in. Eliza slapped at a mosquito whining around her face and her forehead felt hot to the touch. Too hot. What had she been thinking? Jay had clicked his fingers and she had come running. And now another voice was in her head. Her mother berating her, telling her not to be so stupid. But this was not a mere rap on the knuckles, but something much, much worse, and it went far deeper, back to the edgy discomfort of days when mothers were to be treated with caution and fathers were never to return.
Today her mind was a place of shadows, but as a scorching wind blew dust and flies in her eyes, Eliza snapped out of it. She wanted the sunlight, and more than anything she wanted to stand tall with Jay for all the world to see.
She also wanted to be like the woman she’d met in Paris, whose goal was to be a photographer, and while Eliza had understood she might one day marry she didn’t feel as if she’d achieved enough. She didn’t know how or when, but the fact remained that she still had to get her equipment back from the castle in order to see how much of it really had been ruined. And, whatever was to happen with Jay, she might still be able to mount her exhibition at the Imperial Hotel, even if she had to scale it down and do it alone.
The heat, leaden and unrelenting, was exhausting, but she kept a fixed smile on her face. The first sign they were nearing their destination was hazy smoke hanging motionless in the dazzling blue sky. She whooshed away a swarm of flies, then smelt burning charcoal and the sweet tantalizing aroma of roasting meat.
When the camp finally came into sight, she experienced the first signs of genuine apprehension: a racing heart and sweaty palms. The simple beauty of the desert shone, but an extraordinary striped red and silver tent had been erected and was now surrounded by a dozen flaming torches. Was this especially for her, or had he been planning to camp like this anyway? Was she central to this scenario or was she not?
She glanced around to see if she could spot Jay anywhere, but all she saw was a great burst of birds rising into the sky above the tent. For Eliza it was a moment of crushing disappointment. Perhaps he was still to arrive, she thought, as the driver helped her out and then carried her case in the direction of the tent. ‘Wait,’ she called out. ‘I’ll take it inside.’
‘Your room is on the right,’ the man said.
She was surprised. She had no idea tents could accommodate more than one room, but this was so large. The tent’s flap had been pinned back and she parted the light muslin curtains at the entrance and found herself in a small vestibule. Fancy that, she thought, a tent with a hall! Then she drew aside a heavier curtain on the right and entered the room that was to be hers.
The whole of the interior was curtained in swathes of ruby-coloured silk, all gathered together at the top of the tent, rather like an old-fashioned circus tent might have been. But it was the bed that caught her eye. The frame was painted in gold and the bedspread and cushions were silver. Rose petals had been strewn over the bed and surrounding floor, which was carpeted in the most beautiful woven kilims she had ever seen. There was even a chaise longue, an armchair, a small table and a dressing table in there too.
She sat on the bed feeling amazed, but also a little bewildered. The room was fragranced, and as she sniffed the air she realized that there were oil burners in two corners and that it was rose and some kind of sweet orange she could smell. The whole thing was almost unbelievable. She thought of the simple picnic she had enjoyed with her mother and wished Anna could have witnessed this. And yet, as she continued to sit on the edge of the bed, she shivered with unease. Why had Jay brought her here? Maybe the note hadn’t even been from him?
She heard a slight rustle and looked up. An unsmiling Jay stood silently just inside her room. An image of his hands moving fluidly over her body flashed in her mind and she felt a stirring within her. But he seemed as remote as the sun in an English midwinter and she blinked to stem the tears. What was he thinking? Why didn’t he speak?
‘So, you have recovered from the explosion?’ she said, rather nervously.
He raised his brows.
‘I mean, I heard you were well. Was it a bomb?’
Now he frowned. ‘So we are to speak of bombs, are we? Maybe we might next move on to the weather?’
