He nodded.
‘I’m an oddity at home too, but I intend to make a name for myself,’ she said, privately thinking how much she valued the release of work. ‘And I won’t be deterred.’
‘Your desire for recognition may well be your downfall.’
‘Along with my use of water, I suppose.’
He gave her a half smile.
‘You think I shouldn’t try?’
‘There needs to be balance. A filtering out of what matters from what does not.’
‘And you’ve achieved that?’
He glanced away. ‘I wouldn’t say that. By the way, this is my old friend, Devdan. Dev for short. We met at a camel fair when we were boys. I like to go incognito when I can. It gives me a greater sense of freedom.’
‘Not to mention that if the traders don’t know who he is he gets a better price. I had no idea who he was when we met,’ the shorter man said with a broad smile. ‘Anyway, gift of the Gods, that’s me, or, at least, it’s what my name means.’
‘Firebrand, it should be.’ Jay laughed and thumped him on the back.
‘And here to do a spot of hawking, hunting antelope, and camel racing with my Rajput friend here. Honour above all, that’s the Rajputs, isn’t it, Jay?’
Jay smiled, but Eliza could see his amber eyes had darkened, his thoughtfulness concealing something that made her feel that beneath the confidence lay something less certain. She waited for him to speak and kept her eye on the noisy monkeys in the orange trees.
‘Indeed. Those were the days! Suicide rather than defeat,’ he eventually said, and only after a slightly awkward pause added, ‘Before we became so timid.’
‘Timid! You don’t strike me as being timid,’ Eliza said.
‘Ah, but once we were ferocious,’ Dev chipped in, and judging by the look on his face Eliza could believe it. In fact, though shorter than Jay and despite his flippant manner, there was something about the man. He had been friendly enough, but every now and then she caught him staring at her with a wary look and it made her feel uncomfortable. It might just be curiosity but, whatever it was, she found it hard to look him in the eyes. They were very deep and Eliza found them difficult to read. He didn’t at all seem like the kind of man she’d have expected to be a friend of Jay’s.
‘You speak of balance,’ she said, turning from Dev to look at Jay. ‘So what about work? If your old role of warrior has gone, why not find something useful to do?’
‘Hear that, Jay, she thinks camel racing isn’t useful.’ Dev laughed at his own comment and, relieved that the mood had lightened, she smiled.
‘She may have a point,’ Jay said.
‘So how did you become interested in photography?’ Dev asked.
‘My husband bought me my first camera when we were on our honeymoon.’ She had spoken without thinking and glanced at Jayant.
‘You must miss him,’ was all he said.
The guilt over Oliver knotted somewhere deep in her chest. The slow tightening, the feeling of not being far from foolish tears. But now, as always, she clamped down on her emotions and gave a curt nod.
‘And what in particular intrigued you about photography?’
‘It was so exciting.’ She smiled. ‘I saw pictures of the work of Man Ray. It’s highly experimental, and he worked with surrealist artists like Marcel Duchamp. And then, when I tried for myself, I found I could see things differently through my lens. I learnt to focus on the unexpected. It was like seeing the world anew. Of course my husband didn’t imagine it would lead to a career.’
There was a slight pause.
‘It was only after he died that I had the funds to buy more equipment and pay for lessons.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,’ Dev said.
‘And now …’ She glanced down. ‘It’s my whole life. For me photography is not just about what I see, it’s about what I feel.’
But her response had lacked the strength of passion she really felt. She didn’t tell him that only through her camera lens could she really express herself, nor did she say that photography had become her solace. She didn’t tell him that she believed success in her career might relieve her of her guilt. She wanted to make her father proud of her, and believed that if she worked hard she could rise above her pain. But the truth was she would lay down her life rather than end up like her mother, even if it meant she had to accept a lifetime of loneliness as the price of pursuing a career. And one thing was certain: never again would she compromise who she was for the sake of feeling less alone, nor would she feel ashamed of insisting on having a voice.
