‘Yes,’ she said, hearing the buzz of flying insects and wondering what he was about to say.
‘Do you recall a young Indian boy at the scene?’
She thought about it. ‘I think I do. Do you mean down on the street?’
‘He helped you up when you had been kneeling at your father’s side.’
‘Yes.’
‘It was a terrible thing to have happened, but I never forgot the young English girl. I never forgot you. It was me. I was the young Indian boy.’
It felt unbelievable that this could be true, but Eliza was glad he couldn’t witness the tears that burned her eyelids. She squeezed his hands very tightly and, even though it was dark, something inexplicable passed between them. They stayed like that for a few minutes and an extraordinary feeling of peace washed over her. Because he had been there, had shared the very moment she had lost her father, it seemed to release something inside her. She couldn’t explain it, but because she had not been so alone in those awful moments after all – he had been there too – she felt she might be able to come out from living in the shadow of her father’s death. She held her breath and let this new thing wash over her, whatever it was, not wanting to move, ever, but the tunnel was cold and when she shivered they began to walk on.
‘I was in the procession,’ he said, ‘with my mother in ahowdahon one of the elephants. I climbed down when the explosion happened.’
‘Did you know who I was straight away – when I first arrived here, I mean?’
‘Not immediately, but you told me you had lived in Delhi and I recalled that the name of the man who had been killed was Fraser. After a few enquiries I wondered if that might be who you were.’
‘Why didn’t you say when I told you about the bomb?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t feel I knew you well enough. I was worried about how it might affect you.’
‘I’m glad you’ve told me now. It means such a lot and I’m very grateful.’
The exit from the castle was concealed behind a heavy wooden door that creaked as he unlocked it. ‘Mind the thorn bushes,’ he said as they went out. Then, as they made their way into the old city, he gave her the blanket and told her to cover her head and as much of her face as she could, though by now she was so coated in the coloured powder that had been all around them, nobody would know she was not one of them. Nothing about the celebration at the castle had prepared her for what was to come here in the town.
It was the night before full moon: everywhere bonfires were burning all the dried leaves and twigs of winter, and huge crowds of people had filled the streets and squares. But it was the mesmerizing drumming that thumped in her blood, the rhythm weaving through the dancing people who continued to throw coloured powders. Clouds of it brightened the air: red, blue, green and yellow swirling, flying in great puffs and then drifting over everyone. It was as if heaven had opened its paintbox and emptied the colours on to the world below. The noise of it all made speech impossible, but Jay held her hand tightly and she knew not to let go. Eliza touched her face and when she glanced at her fingers she saw they were blue. The powder was in her hair, in her eyelashes and in her mouth, and she was relieved when people in the upper balconies of houses lining the street began spraying water from long hosepipes. But with the addition of water the colour simply congealed and didn’t run off. If Eliza had not been with Jay, the exotic, crazy night would have been too much. As it was, there were only moments of anxiety when the chaos and noise threatened to crush her English sensibilities. The whole town seemed to be spinning out of control, yet it was the most perfect celebration of life she’d ever experienced and eventually she allowed herself to surrender to it. Jay was in his element, laughing as he dodged the water and the powder, and she, helpless, threw back her head and laughed too.
A little after that Jay caught hold of her and pulled her into an alleyway out of the way. She was shocked to see people scattering in all directions as Rajput men pounded by at speed, riding horses through the red and pink clouds of colour, and throwing even more powder on the crowd as they passed. She was deeply aware of Jay’s proximity and when he didn’t move she was conscious that her heart was beating too fast. When he wrapped both arms around her she didn’t think about it but simply sank into him. He continued to hold her tightly, the heat from his body so alarming and yet so exhilarating that she wanted never to be released. When he drew back a little he tilted her chin and she gazed right into his amber eyes.
‘Eliza. I have been waiting for you to realize how I feel.’
She could hardly draw breath, her heart feeling as if it was actually pounding in her throat instead of her chest. And then, when he kissed her gently, she hardly knew how to think. He didn’t stop, the kiss growing fiercer, his left hand holding the back of her neck. Dizzy from the Holi celebration, she felt the whole world tilt. Any further and she’d go sailing over the edge. When it was over she struggled to find words and then gave up. It didn’t matter. Words didn’t matter now. Tonight was entirely about sensation. Under the light from an oil lamp she gazed at the curve of his lips and his burnished skin, then reached out to touch his cheek. The skin was softer than she’d imagined, with a suggestion of sandalwood and cedar, but it was the pallor of her hand against his darkness that shook her.
A great cheer rose up and Eliza realized a change was going on around them. He grinned as he removed her hand from his face.
‘You have to see this.’
They stood with their backs to the building on one side of the street as brightly painted elephants with embroidered head-plates lumbered along the centre of the street, the bells at their legs tinkling as they raised one enormous foot after another. The mahouts all held bright parasols and sat on golden embroidered rugs.
‘So,’ Jay said when they had passed, ‘I don’t believe it’s possible to have no regrets at all, but are you ready to wave goodbye to the past?’
As Eliza lay in bed watching dawn approach, she went over every detail of the night. She focused on Jay’s fine amber eyes, and the way the intoxication of Holi had made her feel light-headed. She had never felt that way when she had been with Oliver. In fact, now she thought about it, she could hardly remember how it had been with Oliver. Instead she imagined Jay’s arms wrapped around her and, as the sensation fizzed through her, she felt as if her entire body was awakening. She rolled on to her stomach, longing to feel his hands on her skin, and pressed herself into the mattress. The arousal was almost unbearable. Then she thought about what he’d asked. Was she ready to leave the past behind? A part of her genuinely longed to, but then she remembered what Jay had said about the day her father had died. Did she believe in destiny as a prearranged formula for life? No. But she had to admit it was extraordinary that he should have been present all those years ago, at the most shocking moments of her entire life, and, now that he was here again, she tried very hard not to think of the future. Yet her mind still swelled with images, leaping into one scenario after another, and she couldn’t stop projecting herself into some kind of idealistic future. With him. Of course it was impossible. She knew that, and yet she couldn’t help falling into a dreamy state of hopefulness.
She tried to talk herself out of her feelings, blaming it on the night, the enchantment of Holi. But he had touched her soul and no amount of talking could diminish the feeling of connection she had experienced when she had been with him. It was a bit like coming home, only home wasn’t a place, it was a person …
The next day a servant came with an envelope and as soon as she opened it she saw it was a note from Jay. He said that he had enjoyed her company very much and would hope to see her very soon. He also said that she’d never been as beautiful as when she had been dusted with coloured powder. When Laxmi asked to see her later on, Eliza worried that somehow the events of the night had leaked out. Maybe Chatur had spied, or he might have sent somebody to spy: someone who had been watching and had seen everything. Someone who had observed them leave the castle and who had followed. Eliza hated the thought of her every move being scrutinized and that crippling sensation of there being nowhere to hide. Laxmi would not be happy about her going out into the town with Jay, and she certainly would not be happy about the kiss. Eliza knew that his mother had been trying to arrange a marriage for Jay for the last few years and was hoping for a strong alliance with another royal family – not a Rajput, apparently that wasn’t allowed, but from somewhere else in the Indian Empire.
Eliza steeled herself as she slowly walked to Laxmi’s rooms. To reach the older woman’s apartments she had to pass through four different corridors, usually patrolled by eunuchs. Eliza knew that the eunuchs were traditionally the guardians of women’s chastity and they helped maintain a barrier around the Maharani. But the inner apartments were always guarded by two women. Eliza nodded at these two and tapped gently on the door. Laxmi opened it herself and Eliza was relieved to see the older woman smiling warmly. Perhaps she didn’t know after all.
‘Would you like some refreshment?’ Laxmi asked. Dignified, proud and yet kind and generous too, she was gracious as always. Warm, friendly eyes, wrinkling at the corners, in an otherwise smooth-skinned face, were the only sign of ageing.
Eliza asked for water.
Today Laxmi was looking every inch a queen, in a mixture of blues and greens with trimmings of silver. Whenever Eliza was with her she always found herself sitting up straighter. Or maybe it was the grandeur of walls adorned with inlaid coloured glass mosaic and winged angels painted on the ceiling.
‘I hear you went into the old town for the Holi celebration.’
