‘Because I have experienced it myself.’
Eliza drew in her breath, then let it out in a puff. ‘Can we not talk about it now, please. What are we going to do about Jay being taken?’
‘The two are connected, my dear.’ Laxmi stared at her. ‘Mr Salter has proof, I’m afraid. He showed me a pamphlet typed on Jay’s typewriter. The letter “j” sticks, you see, and doesn’t work properly.’
‘He would never have done anything like that. Maybe somebody else got in there?’
‘Be that as it may, they have a case against my son and the damage is done.’
‘But it isn’t fair,’ Eliza said, almost in tears.
‘This world is rarely fair, my dear. But I’m pleased to see you have faith in my son. Now I have an idea for a way out of this. If I tell you what I want you to do, will you promise to carry out every word?’
‘Of course. I’ll do anything that might help get Jay released.’
‘You will not like it.’
All manner of thoughts rushed through her head but she nodded. ‘I don’t care. Just tell me.’
‘You will need to be quick, because Priya is determined to convince Anish to ban you from the castle. Priya and Chatur are both determined in the same small-minded way. Neither of them wanted you here from the first, and both think you have been a bad influence on Jayant. And I have to say I am inclined to agree with them on that after all.’
There was a slight pause while Eliza took that in.
‘Well, my idea involves you speaking to Mr Salter again … and perhaps a little more.’
Eliza stared at Laxmi as the woman explained her idea. When she had finished, Eliza could not speak. Surely this couldn’t be the only way?
Shaken by Laxmi’s idea, Eliza left in horror and went to her room to think, spending much of the rest of the day staring out of her bedroom window wondering how it had come to this. She recalled every moment she had spent with Jay. She had been sure that he returned her love: his tenderness and passion so unlike anything she’d ever experienced. All she wanted was to spend the rest of her life by his side, and that was something she had never expected to feel. Her work was to have been her life. But she and Jay were comfortable together, at ease in silence, and yet there was an edge and it was that edge that lent excitement to it. Sometimes she felt so tense, it was as if they were trying to tear each other apart during their love-making. It seemed to spring from the overpowering need to enter into each other’s soul in the only way they knew how, as if they were attempting to make themselves one. Other times it was sweet and gentle and Eliza relaxed into her body in new and languid ways. Now she lay on her bed naked and knew it had not been lust driving Jay. He had said it himself. There was a sense of destiny at play here.
But then, right out of the blue, she remembered what he’d said about wanting a free India, in which Indians ruled their own country. Could he really have been responsible for the offending pamphlets after all?
Just as Eliza was thinking that, there was a knock at the door and she jumped – the knock interrupting her disloyal thoughts. She was tempted not to answer it but, thinking it might be news of Jay, threw on a dressing gown and opened the door.
‘Indi?’ she said when she saw the girl there. ‘You look terrible. Has something more happened to Jay?’
Indi shook her head. Her eyes were clearly red from weeping. ‘No. It is my grandmother. She is sick again and I must leave. She needs me …’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘It is not why I’ve come. I have this for you.’ She handed Eliza an envelope.
After Indi left, Eliza glanced at the stamp. It was English, but the handwriting was not her mother’s. She slit open the envelope and found a single sheet of paper inside.
She saw immediately that it was from James Langton.
My dear Eliza,
I never thought it was sensible that you should up sticks and leave your mother in her time of need. While you took off for the other side of the world (on a whim, I might add), I myself have been away for several months on important estate business.
When I arrived home it was to discover your mother had suffered a stroke and is now in the General Hospital receiving treatment. The doctors believe it is not the first.
Eliza, I’m sorry to have to say this, but the signs were already there. The slurred speech may not have been entirely due to the gin as you asserted. After your husband’s untimely death, you really should have remained at home to look after Anna. I have done all I can. You must come home immediately either to care for your mother, should she survive, or to make her funeral arrangements.
I myself am about to remarry and cannot continue shouldering the burden of your mother.
Sincerely yours,
James Langton
