‘I’d better not hold you up, then, but I can lend a hand if you like.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s all under control.’ Dottie took a step away and looked up at the house. ‘It is a pity, though. This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived. I’ll miss it and I’ll miss you too.’
She held out her arms and the two women embraced.
‘I wish I could stay,’ Dottie said as they parted. ‘It’s hard being a wife. Just when you start to put down roots, your husband’s career digs them up again. The men don’t mind. They have their work and the club. And I suppose it helps if you have children, but for me –’
‘Oh Dottie, I wish I could help.’
Dottie shook her head. ‘Whatever happens, Eliza, hold tight to your work.’
Eliza nodded. ‘Thanks for everything. Keep in touch, won’t you?’
Dottie smiled. ‘Clifford will give you our new address. Take care, and good luck. I’ve loved getting to know you. You promise you’ll carry on with your photography?’
‘You bet.’
After Dottie had gone back indoors, Eliza walked across to the garden gate, a side entrance to Clifford’s place. She didn’t want to knock at the front door, rather she wanted to surprise him, hoping it would give her the advantage in what might well be a tricky exchange. She glanced up at the brilliance of the sky, shading her eyes as she did. As a child in India, cloud-spotting had been a game she and her father had used to play. Today, not a cloud in sight.
As she opened the gate it squeaked loudly and she saw straight away that Clifford was in the garden and had heard her. He stood, watering can in hand, immobile, almost as if frozen to the spot.
‘Hello, Clifford,’ she said, aware of a growing feeling of apprehension.
He seemed to collect himself and took a few steps towards her. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
She noticed that his cheeks had coloured and a flush was spreading down his neck. ‘I don’t suppose you were.’
He gave her a half smile. ‘Are you back?’
‘For good? No.’
‘Ah … then?’
‘Could we sit in the shade? It’s rather hot standing like this in the sun.’
He indicated the bench under the peepal tree. ‘That do you?’
She nodded and he called for the butler to bring them sweet icedlassi, and then they seated themselves.
As she settled on the bench, Eliza gazed at the garden. The recent rains had refreshed it and there was a slight breeze too. The grass was more luminous than before and the trees looked green; even the flowers had perked up. It’s amazing how much difference water makes to life here, she thought. But she wasn’t here to discuss water, what she wanted was answers, and no matter how unnerved she might feel, nothing was going to stop her.
‘So?’ Clifford said, twisting sideways so that he could look at her. ‘What do you mean by going off like that? And yes, I know who you’ve been with. I didn’t for a minute believe that little fabrication of Dottie’s.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I should think you are. And with Jayant Singh of all people!’
She didn’t speak.
‘Eliza, you must have noticed that these Indian chaps are effeminate, with all that jewellery and fancy garb.’
She stiffened and, having had enough of British arrogance and prejudice to last a lifetime, couldn’t conceal her irritation.
‘If you were ever to consider marrying an Indian you would be ostracized by both communities. Miscegenation is condemned on both sides, you know. I consider it a betrayal of Imperial principles.’
‘I’m not prepared to discuss that with you. I have made up my own mind about the British in India and I will only say that I see things very differently. This is not our country, Clifford, it is theirs and they have a right to do things their way. As for Jay, that is between me and him.’
‘So that’s how you feel. I must say I am disappointed.’
