‘None of that matters now,’ she said.
He opened his eyes and gave her a warm smile. ‘We’ll go away. Just you and I. We’ll have a splendid camp before the rains and then go on to Udaipore.’
She blinked rapidly. ‘My mother is ill. I’m on my way back to England.’
‘When you’re back, then?’
She nodded, knowing she could not tell him that when she got back she would be marrying Clifford, nor would she ever be able to explain why. Thank goodness she hadn’t put her engagement ring back on. She reminded herself that right now she must not say anything that might upset Jay’s recovery.
‘I love you, Eliza,’ he said softly. ‘Main tumhe pyar karta hu aur karta rahunga.’
‘I love you too. For ever. With all my heart.’
They stayed like that, with her holding his hand and him so weak, and her trying to be brave. At least he’s alive, she thought. Alive.
She heard a cough and twisted back to see the doctor appearing at the door.
He tapped his watch. ‘Time’s up, I’m afraid. He’s very weak.’
She nodded and got to her feet, then leant over Jay and kissed him very gently on the lips.
‘Goodbye, Jay.’
He didn’t speak, but lifted his hand and traced her hairline with his fingertips.
Out on the street, devastated by what had happened and feeling completely wretched, Eliza ducked into an alleyway, where she crumpled and sank to the ground. She felt hollowed out, as if the solid parts of her had turned to liquid and were flowing out over the very edge of her world. Everything had been destroyed: her hope of an exhibition in October and the jeopardy the whole project would be in if her prints and plates had been fire-damaged. But far worse, her love and fear for Jay. She could never tell him the truth. She buried her face in her arms and, feeling that she would never wake from this nightmare, the sobs flooded out of her.
Part Four
‘Only those who are ravaged by love know love …’
– Rumi,Mathnavi, 109
30
Gloucestershire, England
Eliza gazed at the big sky above the tree-lined hill behind her mother’s house. Anna Fraser’s home was a square residence, surrounded by broken dry-stone walling, and, standing on the corner of a narrow crossroads, its Cotswold stone glowed buttery in the late afternoon light. Eliza’s gaze followed the beech-lined lane leading further down the valley and along the drive to James Langton’s house. It was beautifully, refreshingly green, though Brook Park itself, a gloomy, turreted place, had seen better days. Eliza could see the top of the clock tower rising above the old stables, but the house itself was blocked from view by dark fir trees. She took one last look at the sky, picked up her case, found the spare key under a stone at the side of the hydrangea bush, and unlocked the peeling back door.
Inside was only silence.
She walked into the kitchen, where the washing-up had been piled up haphazardly, encrusted pans had been left on top of the cooker and the rubbish bin was overflowing. Was her mother here or still in hospital? She checked the living room and found it also in a mess. Had Anna been rushed to hospital leaving all this? She began to tidy up, planning to book a taxi to the hospital a little later, but then she heard a weak voice calling out.
‘Hello. Who is there?’
It seemed that her mother must be upstairs. Not knowing what state Anna would be in, Eliza climbed the stairs cautiously and tiptoed across the landing to her mother’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and stepped inside the interior of the cold, dark room.
She made out her mother lying on the bed, fully clothed but very pale. ‘I came home from hospital yesterday,’ she said in a small voice. Eliza walked across to her and held her mother’s left hand. ‘What did the doctors say?’
‘Oh, you know. This and that.’
She stroked her mother’s hand, noticing how it trembled, then spoke in a low voice. ‘Mum, I don’t know. You need to tell me.’
‘I’m so tired, darling, so tired. You call the doctor. He’ll tell you. We’ll talk later.’ Anna’s voice was as weightless as she herself appeared to be. She closed her eyes and Eliza carefully placed her mother’s hand back by her side. It was as if Anna was somehow trapped inside her fragile body, and Eliza felt she couldn’t reach her.
She opened a window, then went downstairs and found the family doctor’s phone number in a small book on the hall table. She wondered if Anna even knew what was going on, but straight away called the consulting rooms. When the call ended she sat down on the floor with her head in her hands. Anna’s hospital stay had revealed an incurable cancer and now there was nothing more the doctors could do. The stroke had been minor; it was the cancer that was killing her. I hope you’ll remain at home with her, he’d said. We wanted her to stay in hospital but she insisted on going home. She doesn’t have long.
The next day, while her mother slept, Eliza drowned her distress by walking. While she walked she thought of her mother and then of Jay and prayed that he would fully recover from his injuries. It would be too much to lose both of them.
