Where Earth Meets Sky

by Annie Murray

  The house was all in darkness and as soon as Sam went near the front, the doctor’s watchman leaped up and started nattering at him but of course Sam couldn’t understand a word and knocked the door anyway. He expected to have to get through a battery of servants before reaching the doctor but, to his surprise, when the door swung open, there stood a very substantial white man with a bushy, grizzled beard, wearing a vast pair of pyjama trousers, his hairy chest and ample belly covered by nothing but a blanket draped round his shoulders. With one hand he held an oil lamp and with the other he was rubbing his portly abdomen in a soothing manner.

  ‘Yes?’ he boomed. ‘Who the devil are you?’

  ‘I’m Captain Fairford’s mechanic,’ Sam blurted, foolishly.

  ‘What? Charles Fairford? Well, what the blazes d’you want? Have you come to tinker with my motor car at one o’clock in the morning? What the devil’s the matter with you?’ A rather abrupt belch took the doctor by surprise as he finished speaking, followed by the groan of a man plagued by dismally acidic innards.

  ‘Their boy’s here with me in the car. He’s been taken ill – they said he had a fit.’

  ‘What – young Cosmo?’ Reluctantly, he was all attention now. ‘Well, speak up, man, do. You should have said before . . .’ Pulling the blanket closer round him he held the lamp high and came down to the car.

  ‘So, what’s up with this young fellow? Bring him into the house, um?’

  He led them into a kind of snuggery, arranged with the rudimentary carelessness of a bachelor, with the usual animal trophies on the walls and very basic furnishings: chair and table, a mess of belongings and papers, a pair of boots slung to one side, a rug thrown on the floor. There was a thick smell of stale tobacco smoke.

  ‘Bit of a pickle,’ Dr Fothergill said. ‘Not meant for decent company. Put him down on here.’

  He swept a few brass objects off the table, and with a laborious grunt picked up a rug from a chair and spread it on the top. Sam moved to help Miss Waters as she laid Cosmo’s distressed little body down on the table. Cosmo stirred and moaned, without opening his eyes.

  ‘What’s up with you, young fellow?’ Dr Fothergill was gentle with him, feeling the boy’s head and limbs. ‘Fever, obviously . . .’ he mused. ‘You say he had a fit?’

  ‘He was restless tonight,’ Lily Waters told him. ‘His temperature went up very fast so I stayed with him. And suddenly he just went rigid, and his eyes were rolling. He was twitching and not himself at all. And Mrs Fairford was worried.’ She looked up into the doctor’s eyes and saw that they shared knowledge about Susan Fairford.

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘I know, poor girl. Thinks she’s cursed by nature – even when she’s got a fine, healthy boy here.’

  Dr Fothergill listened to Cosmo’s chest with the stethoscope, asked a few more questions, and seemed satisfied.

  ‘Well, Miss, er . . .’

  ‘Waters.’

  ‘Of course.’ He was speaking very kindly now. ‘Tell Susan he’ll be quite all right if he just has plenty to drink and isn’t kept wrapped up too warmly. Sometimes, if the temperature shoots up like that, they can have a bit of a turn. Febrile convulsions, we call it. There’s nothing else wrong that I can see. But I’ll call in tomorrow. Best thing for him now will be a nice ride home to bed in the breeze. Off you go, both of you.’

  At the door, he stopped Sam, laying a weighty hand on his shoulder. ‘And whose employ are you in?’

  ‘The Daimler Motor Company, sir.’

  ‘Ah – the royal carriages.’ He chuckled. ‘Trust Charles! Very good, very good! Well, goodnight to you! And don’t overheat that child!’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Things felt quite different now that they knew Cosmo was not seriously ill.

  ‘What a nice doctor,’ Sam said, helping Lily Waters into the car, where she settled Cosmo on her lap.

  ‘He is kind really, even if he seems crusty. I think he’s rather fond of Sus— of Mrs Fairford.’

  Sam shut her door and stood beside her. He was still wondering about her remarks about the captain, but did not want to ask more questions. ‘And you are too. You seem to be a very good friend to her.’

  ‘She’s all right, really, underneath.’ She looked up at him again, and in the dim light he just made out her smile. It made him lurch inside.

  He climbed behind the wheel, taken aback to realize that his hands were shaking. Nobody had ever affected him like this before.

  ‘D’you fancy a bit of a drive – cool the little chap down a bit more?’ He released the brake, longing to drive for miles on end, just so that he could stay sitting beside her.

  She laughed, which made him ridiculously happy. She seemed relaxed being alone with him. Of course, they were more of the same class, he thought. They didn’t have to talk up or down to each other. But was it more? he longed to know. Did she feel the way he was feeling?

  ‘You’re a funny one, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Any excuse to be driving this car! But Mrs Fairford will be worried.’

  ‘Just round the block – the main cantonment road,’ he persuaded her. ‘We can say it was doctor’s orders – it was almost.’

  ‘Goodness – I’m in my nightclothes. I don’t think Dr Fothergill even noticed!’

  ‘He was hardly in any position to, was he? He was in his as well!’

  They both laughed then, and he eased the car forward.

  ‘It’s all right, Cozzy,’ Lily soothed him. ‘You sleep, little love – we’ll be home soon.’

  Sam headed away from the Fairfords’ house.

  ‘I hope you know the way round by now,’ he said. ‘Or we’ll be lost.’ Although that would have suited him perfectly, being lost for hours in this soft night, with a thin moon up and all the stars and this bewitching woman close beside him. She was here, actually here beside him! The very air felt charged and crackling with life.

  ‘If you keep turning left we should be all right. We’ll know we’re near when we see the church.’

  He drove slowly, realizing that he couldn’t be sure who or what might loom up into the lights. People seemed to keep odd hours in India, up and on the roads day and night. And of course he wanted the journey to last, on and on so that he could see her face lit by the pink Indian dawn. He glanced round at her for a second, but then had to swerve when some scuttling creature tore across the road in front of the car.

  ‘Damn it – what was that?’ His heart was pounding.

  She laughed. It was the first time he had ever heard her laugh like that, a carefree, young woman’s laughter and, hearing it, he knew he was completely lost to her.

  ‘I think it was a mongoose!’

  Further along he said, ‘It’s pretty warm tonight. I don’t know if I could stand the summer here.’

  ‘Yes, from April to June it’s stifling,’ she said. ‘But we go to Simla. Mrs Fairford likes to get Isadora up to the hills early. She suffers terribly from heat. You’ve seen what she’s like with clothes, even in the winter!’

  ‘She’s certainly a character,’ Sam said carefully.

  ‘Mrs Fairford is ashamed of her. Always ashamed. It seems such a pity – for both of them. But they rent a nice house up there and it’s much more comfortable. And when you see the hills, you’ll really love India.’

  ‘I don’t know that I shall see them!’

  ‘Surely you must, while you’re here?’ she said seriously. ‘The mountains are so grand, and the air is cool and there are lovely woods and flowers. You can walk for miles and it’s not dusty and dirty.’

  She was speaking more fluently now. It felt easy being with her. As she talked, though, without being so guarded, he heard an occasional lilt in her voice. She was very hard to place.

  ‘Where’re you from again – originally?’ Again he glanced round in the dark. He cursed having to drive. He wanted just to sit and look at her. They’d already been quite a way round the block and time was running out. He would have loved to pretend to get them
lost to give them more time, but the trouble was that before long he would not have been pretending and there was no telling where they might end up.

  ‘I’ve lived in several places. I suppose I could say I’m from Kent.’

  ‘It’s a queer thing, but when you spoke earlier I thought you sounded – well, more like me. Touch of the Midlands.’

  There was a pause. When she spoke it was as if she had closed down on him again.

  ‘I suppose I begin to sound like whoever I’m with. Some people are like that – they take on other people’s way of talking.’

  ‘Like those lizard creatures that change colour depending on what colour the branch is they’re sitting on.’

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to look at him.

  ‘A chameleon?’ she said. ‘Yes, just like that.’

  He was bursting with questions, and with feeling too, but he could see that if he kept on asking her too much she would withdraw completely. She was not an open person. She told you just enough, but no more. They drove in silence for a few moments, seeing flashes of the trees beside the road in their lights and insects swimming towards them in the beams like tiny scraps of paper. Sam’s mind was racing. Here he was, alone with this astonishing woman. What did she think of him? And – the thought came as a terrible reproach – did she know he was married? He had certainly never told her, but it was just possible that Mrs Fairford had. None of these things seemed to matter when he was so overwhelmed with need for her.

  ‘Turn left here,’ she said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. A few moments later they turned into the Fairfords’ drive and Sam parked in the usual place along the side of the house. He had no idea how long they had been out or what time it was. It felt like a very long time, but must not have been as much as an hour.

  He switched off the engine, leaving them in a sudden silence, the air full of aromatic night smells. He thought she would get up to leave immediately, but she still sat.

  ‘He’s got himself well settled,’ she said, looking tenderly down at Cosmo. ‘It seems a pity to move him. The ride seems to have calmed him down.’

  Sam reached over and very gently stroked the boy’s head. Cosmo still felt hot, but perhaps less than before. Seeing his gesture, Lily Waters looked up at him and smiled. Blood seemed to pound round Sam’s body. There was an answer in that smile – he knew it!

  ‘Lily,’ he said, impetuously. ‘May I call you Lily? At least while we’re alone?’

  ‘All right,’ she looked down then, shyly. ‘And what’s your name?’

  ‘Samuel – Sam, my pals call me.’

  ‘Sam,’ she said, in a considering way, and stared ahead towards the trees in the dark garden in a way which made her again completely mysterious to him.

  But here was this moment. He might never find the chance to be alone with her again. He had to say something!

  ‘We should go inside – Mrs Fairford will be worried,’ Lily said. But still she didn’t move.

  Her left hand was cradling Cosmo’s shoulder, keeping him pressed close to her, and Sam reached round and laid his over it, stroking it with all the ardour he felt, finding the courage to look into her eyes. She looked back at him, a wide-eyed, almost frightened look.

  ‘You’re such a beautiful woman,’ he told her. He wanted to say everything, all that she made him feel, but he was no good with words. ‘You just have . . .’ He attempted. ‘You have a strong effect on me.’

  ‘Do I?’ she whispered. And still she didn’t look away.

  He could feel the blood pumping round his veins as if there was a giant turbine inside him, as if he might burst, or boil over, without some release.

  ‘Dear God,’ he said, barely meaning to let the words escape. ‘You’re so lovely.’

  Impetuously he leaned down and let his lips brush hers, and still she didn’t move away. She made a tiny sound in her throat, which encouraged him and he kissed her, gently. She did not resist, and as he became more passionate he felt her respond until he was completely inflamed by her. He had to tear himself away, drawing back so as not to lose control.

  ‘God, woman,’ he said. ‘I love you. Do you realize?’

  She was looking up at him. ‘I’ve never—’ she began, then looked down at Cosmo in confusion. ‘We must take him in.’

  ‘Where can I see you? There’s never anywhere to be alone here – always someone watching . . .’

  Again she stared ahead with those dark, mysterious eyes, thinking.

  ‘After tiffin, there’s often a time when everyone sleeps. The veranda at the side is usually quiet.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he said. ‘Today now, I suppose.’ He could hardly stand the thought of being away from her for so long.

  Meeting his eyes, she whispered, ‘Yes, all right. At three.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  He was so afraid that she wouldn’t come.

  She had told him to wait on the back veranda, overlooking the wide lawn, edged by trees which spread fronds of shade along the edge of the grass. The lawn was beautifully cut: Sam had seen the mali out there guiding a young white bullock which pulled the heavy mowing machine, with leather mufflers on its hooves to stop them churning up the turf. The pots of plants edging the lawn looked tired in the heat. It was just after the hottest part of the day and even the insects moved sluggishly. Sam caught the scent of the eucalyptus tree close to the house.

  The household was miraculously quiet, and Hassan, the punkah lad, was fast asleep on his back, the rope wrapped round the toes of his right foot but hanging limp. He looked in a state of delicious comfort and Sam certainly had no intention of disturbing him.

  He sat on one of the cane chairs and tried to distract himself from his inner turmoil by watching two chipmunks darting about at the foot of the tree. He was well fed after today’s tiffin of cold meat and potatoes with the fieriest of pickles, but he was not in the least ready for sleep. Not when every fibre of him was on full alert to hear her step coming towards him!

  The chipmunks were replaced by three wrangling crows, and then he heard the door open and nothing else after could steal his attention. His blood raced.

  She came round the house on tiptoe, looking down at her feet almost as if there might be glass underfoot and he saw that this was out of shyness. He stood up to greet her and at last she met his eyes and gave a smile which sent vibrations through him.

  ‘Shall we sit here?’ he suggested.

  ‘Yes’ – she spoke very quietly. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay.’

  Sam nodded towards the punkah-wallah. ‘He’s having a good rest, anyway.’

  Lily smiled with real amusement. ‘Yes – that’s why it’s taken me some time to get Cosmo to sleep. His room is stifling!’ She selected a chair, carefully arranging the folds of her deep green skirt, but sat perched on the edge, obviously not at her ease.

  ‘How is the boy today?’

  ‘Still feverish, but no more alarms in the night. I’ve put an ice pack in the bed to keep him cool. But I think Dr Fothergill was right – there’s nothing more to it than a fever of sorts.’

  ‘Oh, well that is good news.’

  ‘Yes.’ She looked up for a second and gave him another faint smile, but then dropped her eyes again, seeming filled with confusion. There was a terrible silence in which both of them were at a loss. But then she seemed to collect herself. Looking across at him, she said, ‘How long will you be staying with the Fairfords altogether?’

  ‘It was envisaged that I’d be here for up to six weeks. The captain has taken to the driving and looking after the car like a duck to water, so I can’t imagine it will be more.’ Sam kept talking, out of his own nerves. ‘Strictly speaking, we ought to make a longer trip since he is thinking of taking it on tour. It can be a problem here, you see – what the roads do to the tyres, for a start. The good roads, pukka, I suppose they’d say here, like the Grand Trunk Road – they’re made of laterite. It’s a metallic material, lots of iro
n in it, and if it breaks up – well, you’ve got trouble: knife-edged bits of road that slash the tyres to pieces. And of course another thing is all those bullock carts. Get a whole train of those going along a laterite road and you’ve got eight-inch ruts. It’s not the rainy season now, but when it comes, the water washes the ruts out and Bob’s your uncle – knife edges again! Your tyres go and your inner tubes . . . We need to get out there and try it all out a bit more. And that’s only one thing . . .’

  He was about to launch into a catalogue of other besetting problems of dust and accumulator leakage but caught himself in time. Why was he prattling on in this crazed fashion about something a woman would have not the least interest in?

  ‘Sorry,’ he said foolishly. ‘I get a bit carried away when you get me on to cars.’

  But she smiled then, seeming more comfortable.

  ‘I’ve heard. Mrs Fairford says you’re like an endlessly babbling stream on the subject. Oh!’ She blushed deeply, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘How terribly bad mannered of me to repeat that! I’m so sorry!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he laughed. ‘I’m surprised she didn’t say something even worse. I don’t think she takes to me very much.’

  The look on Lily’s face and her lack of denial of this made him laugh more. He didn’t need her to tell him of Susan Fairford’s snobbish attitude to him!

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said impulsively. ‘D’you fancy a spin now?’

  ‘You can’t, can you?’ she looked alarmed. ‘Just take the car out as you like?’

  ‘Don’t see why not.’ He was all for getting to his feet. ‘Just round the roads again, maybe?’

  ‘No – really, I can’t. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on Cosmo. Today especially. I really should be in there now.’

  ‘Of course.’ Sam sat back. ‘How silly of me.’

  They sat for a few more moments, talking of day-today things about the household, laughing about the sour-faced Mussulman cook, but Sam was in an agony. Time felt as if it was rushing by so fast and he wanted to say things to her, loving, affectionate things, but he could not seem to begin. A few moments later he saw Hassan stirring in his sleep as if he might wake. How difficult it was to be alone!