‘Your mother and I discussed it. We both feel it would be better for you to get out of here before it’s too late. We want you to take over the British arm of the company. Leave William to run the plantation for whatever years are left. You are not suited to this life.’
It was as if he had been dealt a physical blow. Anthony staggered back. ‘You’re sacking me from my post as superintendent of Watakälé?’
A band of fear and anger constricted his heart. He couldn’t breathe. He glanced at Appu standing by the door. Appu turned and hurried away but not before Anthony saw the tears streaming down his face.
Anthony stared at his father. ‘You can’t do that. I have made progress here. The silver tip tea at the London auctions, the staff provident fund for retirement, fresh water to the line rooms. The health care plan for the coolies …’
‘Anthony, I accept that the silver tip was a coup. But all the other things you are doing cost good money. We can’t afford to do this. Not now, when the stupid natives are set to nationalise the plantations. We don’t have the time for such frivolities.’
‘Father, you’re a millionaire, a billionaire more likely. You made it on the backs of these people. The least you can do is put some back before –’
‘Before we are thrown out by the stupid Sri Lankan government,’ his father interjected. ‘You are a naïve idiot, Anthony. We’re here to make money, not spend it on grandiose feel-good schemes. William understands that.’
Anthony collapsed into the chair. ‘It’s not about rape and sexual liaisons at all. Is it, father? It’s an excuse to get me out. To give William a free hand in Watakälé to do what he’s done in Udatänná. Rape the entire bloody plantation but keep the Ashley-Cooper coffers filled with blood gold.’
‘You are wrong, Anthony. Your mother is concerned about you. I am too. You may not believe it now, but we only want the best for you. Look at you! You’re acting like a raving lunatic. Your mother was right. You don’t have the temperament for this job.’
Anthony got to his feet and walked to the window. He stared out into the dusk. His estate, his people, his soul mate; he felt it all slipping through his fingers. He was helpless against his father’s will.
Had he truly thought he could do it? Bitterness laced through him. He turned to face his father.
‘And what does Mother think? That I’ll end up like you? With an Indian sex slave in the house? Ashley-Cooper bastards roaming the plantations?’
His father leapt to his feet and strode round the table. Anthony flinched but didn’t move.
His father grasped Anthony’s shirt and stared into his eyes. His words were slow and calculated. ‘What I did is none of your business, Anthony. Yes, there are things I did that I now regret. And I will do whatever I need to stop you making the same stupid mistakes. And since you brought up the past – I meet my responsibilities.’
Anthony ripped himself out of his father’s grasp. ‘I will not leave Watakälé.’
His father placed a pad with the Ashley-Cooper crest and a monogrammed pen on the table. He drew up the chair. ‘Sit. Write to the Tea-maker’s daughter. Tell her you will not see her again. I will inform the staff that you are leaving.’
Anthony looked at the paper
It was over. He had lost.
‘No. I will tell her and the staff personally.’
For three years, here on the plantation, Anthony had believed that he could make a difference. Do something meaningful. Now it was finished. Not just finished, in his brother’s care all would undone. Anger, bitterness, disappointment spiralled through him, but nothing compared with the pain that tore his heart apart. He was losing Shiro. His love – his life.
His father placed a firm hand on his shoulder. ‘Pull yourself together, son. You’re an Ashley-Cooper. You will make a life for yourself away from this place.’
Anthony looked up at his father. James Ashley-Cooper’s eyes shadowed with memories. ‘You are my son. I need to protect you.’
‘An Ashley-Cooper?’ Anthony laughed. ‘Forgive me for not feeling too proud of my heritage right now.’
James Ashley-Cooper withdrew his hand from Anthony’s shoulder. He turned away. ‘Someday you’ll understand. I’m driving over to Udatänná. I need to talk to William. You have three days to finish up here. I have tickets booked for us back to London.’
James Ashley-Cooper walked out of the house and climbed into the car.
Anthony stood watching. Three days to say goodbye. A day for every year he had spent on Watakälé.
Chapter 26
December 1967 Watakälé
Shiro flew down the path and threw herself into his arms. Anthony held her. Bitterness and fear clouded the glory of her in his arms.
‘Anthony,’ Shiro twisted her arms around his neck and slid them into his hair.
He moved his lips over her face, her neck. She was so radiant, so happy. He brought his lips back to hers. His kiss was a desperate communication of despair.
Shiro kissed him back. He held her close, his lips on her forehead. The tears he couldn’t control slid down his cheeks.
He felt her body tense and grow still in his arms.
‘Anthony, what’s wrong? You’re different. What has happened?’
She was the one precious thing in his life and he was about to break her heart. He was helpless to do anything about it. ‘I love you so much, Shiro. Please my darling, my love. Always remember that you are the most special and important thing that has ever happened to me. Nothing will change how I feel about you. You will always be a part of me – always. You will be in my heart. No, you are my heart.’
Shiro drew away from him. Her eyes clouded dark with fear and foreboding. ‘But –’
He pulled her back into his arms. What he was about to say would destroy her happiness. He could not look into her eyes when he told her. ‘We can’t marry. Princess, it would never work between us.’ Every word felt like a bullet to his heart. How must it feel to her?
She stiffened and pulled away. ‘You said you loved me!’
His soul turned to ice. How could he explain it to her?
‘Shiro, I love you so much. But we can’t be together, sweetheart. You remember how you asked me what it was like to be a superintendent.’ She stood staring at him, still as a statue. ‘Well, I’ve got to maintain – certain expectations.’
Shiro nodded. ‘Like not marrying a native.’ She closed her eyes and stepped back.
‘It’s not just about me!’ Anthony reached out and turned her face up, his eyes pleading. ‘No one would respect you, either. We’d both be laughed at. And our children. They’ll be half caste mongrels.’
‘You think I care about any of this? All this time and this is all you know of me?’ Tears clung to her lashes. ‘It’s your father, isn’t it? Appu told my dad this morning that your father was here.’
‘Shiro, my love.’ He reached out to touch her but she drew further away. His hand fell to his side. ‘You don’t understand, sweetheart. If it were just about here – the plantation – I wouldn’t care either. But there’s my family, too. I’m only here as long as my father’s happy with me. Sweetheart, you grew up here. You know that. If I married a native, he’d sack me and disinherit me. He warned me. We’d be penniless!’
‘Your father! The rich and famous owner of tea plantations in Sri Lanka and Africa. You’re frightened of him, aren’t you? That’s all our love means to you.’ She bowed her head. He could tell she was biting her lips to keep from crying.
‘But what about your life? Your career?’ He stopped, shocked by the look of despair on her face. ‘You’re about to go to medical school and be a doctor. You said you wanted to go to Africa or Australia. You can help hundreds of needy people – thousands of them. I cannot – I will not – take that away from you.’
‘Anthony, of course I want to go to medi
cal school. But I want to be with you. You know that Anthony. Please. You can’t do this.’
She stood before him shivering. Her eyes were pools of misery. ‘Please, let me be with you.’
He had to tell her the truth. She deserved to hear it from him. He took her hands. Her fingers curled and clung to his. ‘My father has heard about us. He has removed me from my position as superintendent of Watakälé. I have to leave for London in three days.’
Shiro’s eyes grew wide with horror. ‘He sacked you? Because of us being friends? What kind of a man is he?’
He raised her fingers to his lips. ‘No, Shiro. It’s an excuse. He doesn’t approve of what I’m doing in the plantation.’
‘But my father said that you were the first superintendent to care about the staff and the coolies. How can that be wrong?’
The rage in his heart spilled over. He squeezed her hands. ‘It’s wrong in the British overlord’s books, Shiro. I know I should be angry about it all. But all I care about now is you.’
Her body grew stiff and her hands were cold in his. She was drifting away from him and he could do nothing.
‘It’s finished, isn’t it?’ She pulled her hands out of his grasp and turned away. Her voice was barely a whisper. Anthony strained to hear her words. ‘You, your father, your brother – you’re all the same, aren’t you? You use us natives and coolies then spit us out when you’re done.’
He stepped close, held her shaking shoulders. ‘No, Shiro. You know I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I love you.’ He felt the shuddering sobs rend her body.
She quietened. ‘Where is your father?’
‘He’s at Udatänná. He’ll be back in three days, in time to drive to Colombo.’
She turned to face him. Her eyes were coal black orbs of pain and determination. ‘Anthony, this morning my parents asked me for a decision on the Chelliah marriage proposal. I asked for time, till tomorrow.’ She laughed. It was a mirthless, hollow sound. ‘I believed I would have news. We would have something to tell them. Stupid, stupid me.’
‘Shiro. What have I done to you?’
‘I’ll tell you what you have done to me, Anthony. You’ve made me grow up. Change from a naïve, trusting child into a woman. I guess I should thank you for that.’ She stared at him. ‘Now I have one last favour to ask. Give me this and I promise I will never ever ask anything of you again.’
‘What do you want of me?’
‘I will accept the marriage proposal, go to medical school, do all these things, but I want you to make love to me.’
Anthony reeled back, stunned. ‘You want me to make love to you?’
Shiro nodded. ‘Yes.’ She moved close to him. He could smell her. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. She opened two buttons of his shirt. ‘You say you love me. And you are going away.’ Her eyes bored into his. ‘I want you to be the first. Let’s not talk of marriage or forever. I want to be with you. Once, just once. After that, I’ll accept the marriage proposal. Get on with my life.’
He pulled her close, dropped his face into her hair.
‘Anthony,’ she whispered into his chest, ‘Make love to me.’
What would it matter? He would hold her, make her his. They would both have a memory to last a lifetime.
He took a deep, ragged breath. She stiffened in his arms. This would be the hardest thing he would ever do in his life.
‘Go home, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Go back to your life. This time of our friendship – our love – it’s a dream, Shiro. A fantasy.’ A shudder went through her body. He pulled her closer. ‘I can’t do it, princess. You will regret it later. And you will hate me for doing it. Please, please forgive me, forget me and move on with your life.’
She clung to him. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. ‘Forgive you? Forget?’ she rasped. ‘I asked you for one thing, one small act of love from you to make life worth living. You won’t give me even that. I can’t go on like this. I won’t.’
He enfolded her in his arms and held her. There was nothing left to say.
She pulled away and walked to the edge of the path, then turned to stare at him. Anthony recoiled at the expression in her eyes.
‘You will be sorry, Anthony.’ She turned and scrambled up the hill.
Anthony looked up. The eagle rose from his nest and circled above him.
Chapter 27
December 1967 Watakälé
The wind whistled around the Tea-maker’s house and rattled the window. It was five-thirty, far too early in the morning for anyone else to be up.
Shiro sat up in bed.
Are you awake, Anthony? Are you thinking of me? Well, soon you will know what your betrayal has done to me.
Shiro pushed back her purple blanket. She had no further use for it. She glanced at the corner of her room where the mat on which Lakshmi used to sleep still stood, rolled up and gathering dust. My friend, you would have understood the pain in my heart.
Never mind. It’s over.
She had to hurry. Raaken would be up by six to fix breakfast. By then it would be too late for them to do anything. She would be gone.
Shiro tiptoed past her parents’ room. Stopping for a moment, she looked through the open door. Her mother lay on her side. Her breathing regular. Her father was on his back, snoring.
‘I am so sorry’ she whispered.
She stood staring at her parents’ sleeping forms. I am truly sad to do this to you but I can’t go on. The whole thing is too much.
In the dark she stubbed her toe on the edge of the stove, causing a slight clattering sound. The cat sleeping in the ash under the stove mewed.
‘Shush.’ She bent to pat its head.
The pesticide bottle was on a waist-high shelf in the corner of the kitchen, alongside mops and cleaning fluids. She picked it up. The lid was screwed on tightly. She managed to get it open and raised the bottle to her mouth.
She felt the sting of the fluid on her lips. She swallowed. The first drops burnt her throat.
The cat meowed.
The kitchen light flashed on.
Raaken shrieked.
He dashed the bottle out of her hands. ‘Aiyoo Chinnamma,’ he screamed.
The bottle flew across the kitchen and shattered against the wall. Pesticide dripped down the wall and onto the floor.
The cat squealed and shot out into the garden.
Raaken, who had never touched Shiro in her life, held her in a tight grip as she struggled to get free. ‘Periamma! Aiya!’ he yelled.
Lights came on all over the house. Her parents came running into the kitchen.
Shiro howled. She had no words. Just demon cries from the hell her soul inhabited.
Raaken let go of her. Shiro sank to the floor. The pieces of glass from the broken bottle pierced her bare legs. The pesticide soaked her purple nightdress.
As in a dream, she heard her mother sob, ‘Mahal, mahal.’
With the help of Raaken, her parents coaxed and dragged her to bed.
She had no energy to fight them. She had failed. The family would rally around her again. They would protect her as they always did. She would have to live – and face life – without him. She lay curled in bed. The tears refused to come.
Her mother came in with a foul tasting mixture. ‘Drink this, darling.’
The drink made Shiro violently ill. She retched into the bowl her mother held.
‘Mahal, Shiro, why? Why did you do it?’ her mother sobbed.
Shiro lay shivering in bed. Let me die, she wanted to shout to them all. Can’t you see that I can’t live without him?
The rain eased and the sun struggled through the curtains of her bedroom window. The apothecary came and sat beside her. She obediently put her tongue out and moved her eyes and head as instructed.
S
he had known the apothecary since she was a little girl. He stroked her hair. ‘Shiromi,’ he said. ‘Do you want to talk about anything?’
She shook her head. What was there to say?
She heard the mumbled conversation outside her door. ‘Depression. Colombo – immediately.’
Soon after, she heard a car drive up. Victor came running into the room and sat on her bed. He took her hands in his. ‘Shiro darling, talk to me.’
Talk, talk, they all wanted her to talk. How stupid. She had nothing to say.
Shiro realised she hadn’t spoken a word since waking up.
***
The thunder and rain echoed the turmoil in Anthony’s heart as he rode down to the tea factory that morning. He had been awake all night listening to the rain on the roof and thinking of the dark future he faced without her.
He longed to turn into the Tea-maker’s house, to take Shiro in his arms and tell her he was wrong to send her away, that together they could face the world. Nothing mattered more than their love.
No, he could not. He would not do that to her.
He would go back to England. She would go to medical school, be a doctor. Be free to travel the world and fulfil her dreams. She was young. She would meet someone else. Learn to love again. He tortured himself with the thought.
Today he would tell Mr Rasiah that he was leaving, that all their plans for the betterment of staff and coolies were finished, crushed by the word of the mighty British Raj, his father, James Ashley-Cooper.
Anthony saw the apothecary’s motorcycle and Victor’s car parked in the drive of the Tea-maker’s house. A chill of fear raced through his body and centred in his heart. He heard her voice in his ear: ‘I can’t go on like this –’ He rode faster down to the factory, struggling to keep the motorcycle upright on the road slippery with mud after the rain.
Anthony pulled into the factory driveway. Through the office window, he saw Mr Rasiah pacing up and down. Anthony leapt off his motorcycle and walked into the office.
The usually impeccable Mr Rasiah was dishevelled. He looked like he had not washed his face or combed his hair. Even the buttons on his shirt were on wrong.
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