‘Maybe.’
They walked slowly, and Eliza felt uncertain about what to say. ‘The new lock works well,’ was all she managed.
He smiled. ‘I’m sure it does … Look, by way of an apology will you allow me to take you to the second night of the Holi celebrations in the oldest part of the town early next month?’
He’d dropped the invitation in quite casually and Eliza was surprised. ‘You’re allowed to go into the town for that? I thought you’d have to celebrate Holi at the castle.’
‘I usually slip away from the celebrations here, already covered in coloured powder. It’s a great disguise. If you also dress in Indian clothes and have some colour on your face and hair we won’t be noticed.’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘It sounds like fun.’
‘I promise it’s like nothing you’ll ever have seen. It will touch your heart – a festival of letting go of what has already passed.’
Just what she needed, then, she thought wryly.
‘A celebration of spring. Time to awaken hope,’ he added.
‘Don’t you get recognized?’
‘It doesn’t matter if I am. But I wear old clothes and nobody is expecting to see me, so they don’t. It’s so often about expectations, don’t you agree?’
17
Eliza loved the early morning and thus far there had been no further sign of shadows slipping just out of her sight, no fear of whispers, no silent tread. She was not being followed and felt more hopeful. As she rose early to catch the best light and went outside with her Rolleiflex, she thought of Jay’s offer to take her to the Holi celebrations. She had to admit that the thought thrilled her. She breathed in the cool morning air and began photographing the giant swings in the courtyard. When something startled her, she glanced round and heard light footsteps. Not again, she thought, and put her camera down. She walked over to the archway where the footsteps seemed to have been coming from, then carried on down the passage a short way. Silence. But there had been someone. Someone light-footed. Of that she was certain. Maybe one of the concubines had wanted to speak to her but had been too frightened? The silence seemed to grow even louder, so, panicking a little, she listened out for whispers. Still nothing. Eliza turned back and returned to the courtyard to finish her task, but when she picked up her camera she experienced a moment of panic. The lens was cracked, although it had been fine before. Had she put it down too suddenly and knocked the lens? She was sure she would have noticed, so that seemed highly unlikely. Who had been in the courtyard? She went back to her rooms, muttering to herself.
It was now a little warmer, but still hadn’t reached anything like the scorching temperatures of summer. She knew that escaping into the town might be impossible when the extreme heat came, and as she wanted to get to the bottom of what had happened to her camera, she decided to make the most of a lunch party Clifford had invited her to. She would pick his brains about where to have the camera repaired.
She dressed in a pretty pale pink summer skirt made of silk crêpe de chine, and added a blouse with a slight puff to the sleeves. The skirt fitted at the waist and, clinging at the hips, showed off her figure more than anything else she owned. It was the outfit she wore when she needed to impress. She clipped a string of real pearls around her neck and then, as she hooked through the matching earrings, she decided, now that her lock had been changed, not to tell Clifford about the man in her room. He’d probably only insist she move to Dottie’s.
On her way out, just at the point where a sprinkle of sunlight danced patterns on the marble floor, she passed Jay.
‘You look very lovely today,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘The colour suits you.’
‘It’s a lunch party,’ she muttered, feeling a bit too much on show.
‘How very British.’ He bowed. ‘Enjoy yourself. By the way, progress on the irrigation project is terrific, but we do still have to get the funds finalized so that this first lake can be finished, or our current work will be spoiled.’
‘And will you?’
He inclined his head in that way that you never quite knew if it was yes or no. ‘You must see it before then.’
She couldn’t say that she would far rather be spending time with him than with Clifford, and that she would willingly go right now. As she thought that, the burn of a flush spread up her neck and the moment passed.
‘And you look even more lovely when you blush,’ he added.
‘Oh, do shut up! It’ll probably be terribly boring.’
‘Perhaps you might have another word with Clifford about his progress with the backers and the permission to dam the river? Negotiations seemed quite positive when I was in Calcutta but I haven’t heard anything definite since I returned.’
A little later, as she gazed out of the car window, the poverty continued to shock her and she was still trying to make sense of what she saw here. Children, little more than waifs with huge dark eyes, followed the car greedily, hoping no doubt to be given something when the vehicle reached its destination. Judging by the shacks at the side of the road, it was clear many people had no homes. She searched her bag for a few rupees and held them in her hand ready for when she got out. She noticed details, always had. It had been her escape, a way of coping after her father died. She’d notice things and then, in her mind, tell him about them. Once her mother had come across her in the garden holding up a daisy and talking to her imaginary father aloud. Her mother had slapped her hand and the daisy had fallen to the ground. After that Eliza had kept her conversations with her father secret.
As the car neared Clifford’s house, Eliza still thought it was to be a lunch party but, once again, it turned out she was on her own with Clifford. After a delicious meal of roast chicken with steamed potatoes and vegetables, Eliza sat back replete. Though she enjoyed the Indian food she’d been eating, she was beginning to tire of rice and dahl.
‘So,’ he said. ‘Room for apple pie?’
‘You trying to fatten me up?’
‘Not at all. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.’
