Appu dished out the roast beef, boiled vegetables and baked potato with an expressionless face. Janet and Anthony chatted about their parents and the manor house. William was silent.
Appu served a delicious pineapple tart for dessert. Janet pushed back her chair. ‘I think I’ll go check on the baby.’ She looked from one to the other of the brothers. She waited for a grunted permission from William before rising from the table and almost running out of the room. Anthony waited until her footsteps faded down the corridor before getting up.
‘Stop,’ William snapped. ‘Sit down.’
Anthony paused, half up from his chair. William snapped, ‘Sit down, I said.’
Anthony lowered himself back down.
‘Why the hell did you come back with that half-breed creature?’
Anthony curled his hands on the arms of the chair. ‘That half-breed creature, as you call him, is your son, William, and you know it. The girl you raped. She had your son.’
William clapped his hands and laughed. ‘What a surprise! A coolie girl pregnant by a Periadorai. So, I had sex with her. She probably had sex with ten others before and after that.’
‘Come on, William. She was a virgin when you took her. Even you would have recognised that. And you saw the boy. He’s an Ashley-Cooper. Did you look at his eyes? It’s Mother all over again.’
William picked up the glass. He gulped the whisky neat and coughed. ‘Blue eyes and brown hair. Stop fantasising, little brother. She could have been impregnated by any of our gang.’
‘No. He’s your son. Father knows and accepts it.’
‘More fool he.’ William turned to refill his glass.
Anthony took the glass from William’s hand. ‘I need to find the boy’s mother.’ He leaned forward, not wanting Janet to hear. ‘Where is she, William? Where is Lakshmi?’
William grabbed the glass back from Anthony. He sniggered and raised the glass. ‘Don’t be stupid, little brother. Do you think I kept track of every girl I screwed?’ He guffawed. ‘I didn’t look at her face when I shagged her in the weighing shed and I have no idea what her name is. The bitch is probably just one of the prostitutes who roam the streets of Diyatalāwa. Why don’t you go check them out? There’s a great whorehouse there. I can give you the address. The Madame is pretty sexy herself.’
Anthony shut his eyes and prayed for patience.
‘And you can wipe that self-righteous look off your face. Who are you to stand judgement over me?’ William continued. ‘What about your little fling with the Rasiah girl?’
Anthony felt the hairs on his neck stand up. ‘What are you talking about?’
William leered at him. ‘You thought I didn’t know?’ He pulled out a letter from his pocket and threw it across the table to Anthony. ‘Read it. Father sent it to me when you left Watakälé. Or should I say were sacked. He wanted me to follow it up. I held on to it for a day like today.’
Anthony looked at the plain brown envelope. He drew out the piece of paper. The letter was in Mr Rasiah’s clear long hand, the type he used for official correspondence.
‘Dear Mr James Ashley-Cooper
Dear Sir
I want to thank you personally for the bonus of Rupees fifty thousand that your son, Anthony, so kindly passed on to me last week. It was very generous of you. It was very timely since we had to take our daughter to Colombo for urgent medical treatment and this sum will enable us to get the best doctors to see her.’
Damn, damn, damn! Anthony thought. Why did Mr Rasiah have so much integrity?
William was still leering at him.
Appu came in and picked up the dishes. Anthony could feel his worried eyes on him.
‘There was no debit on the company account for that amount, was there, little brother? I checked. It came out of your personal account.’ William tossed back his drink and coughed. ‘That wasn’t all you paid the Rasiahs, was it?’
William leant forward again and poked his finger at Anthony. ‘There is the credit to Mr Rasiah’s provident fund with the proviso that it be used for their children’s education. The girl’s the only one still in university, you might as well have stamped her name on it. You thought I wouldn’t notice?’ William laughed. ‘What did you pay the Rasiahs for, Anthony? The services of their sexy daughter? The one you met by the stream? Were you paying for an abortion in Colombo? Or maybe you’ve got a bastard yourself, that you’re supporting somewhere?’
Anthony lost it. All the years of pent up frustration and anger against his brother were in that one punch.
William roared with pain. He clutched his face and staggered back, crashing into the drinks trolley. The clatter of breaking bottles and William’s screamed curses brought Appu and the other coolies running into the room. Janet followed after them.
‘Damn you to hell, William,’ Anthony panted, standing over a prostrate William. ‘You are what Father made you, aren’t you? Mother tried to change Father’s attitude, and it killed her spirit. You’re doing the same to Janet. You bastard! I will find Lakshmi. I will find the mother of your son! I will give her and Daniel a better life. I swear it!’
Janet dropped to the floor by William with a linen napkin in her hand. She looked up from where she was kneeling, holding the cloth to William’s fast swelling cheek.
‘Did you say his son?’ she gasped and looked at William’s rapidly swelling face. ‘I thought you couldn’t father a child.’
‘Shut up, woman’ William shoved her hand away.
‘Yes, Janet,’ Anthony said. ‘William raped a coolie girl. Daniel is her son. I want to find the girl. I’m going to take the two of them to Australia to start a new life.’
William struggled to his feet. ‘You’ll never find her,’ he muttered angrily. ‘The bitch is gone. And you,’ he pointed a finger at Janet, ‘shut up and go to bed.’
Janet stood between the brothers. She looked from William to Anthony. ‘Anthony, let it go. Please. Let’s talk about this in the morning.’
William held on to his jaw. He jabbed a finger at Anthony. ‘I’ll get even with you. Both you and your precious Mr Rasiah.’
Anthony turned and walked down the corridor to the guest room. He could hear William swearing and Janet’s voice, soft and weary. ‘Come to bed. You need to sleep it off. It’ll be all right in the morning.’
Daniel was already in bed, fast asleep. Anthony kissed him on his curly head. Tomorrow, we’ll find your mother, he promised him silently. Sighing, he shut the door and opened his overnight bag. Just then, he heard a soft, insistent tap on the door.
‘Anthony! It’s me. Please, let me in!’ It was Janet’s voice in an urgent whisper.
Anthony opened the door a fraction to let her in and closed it after her. ‘What the hell are you doing? You heard what he said. He’s still convinced you and I were lovers in England. If he finds you here he’ll kill us both!’
‘I don’t care, Anthony,’ she said. Her face was drawn, her eyes dull. ‘He’s always drinking.’ Her voice cracked on a sob. ‘He even drinks with the native staff, especially the assistant Tea-maker, Wright. He spends nights away. Appu says he goes to Diyatalāwa. I think –’ She took a deep breath. ‘I think he has a mistress somewhere.’ She sobbed into his shoulder.
Anthony held her. This was a girl whom he had grown up with, the closest he would come to a sister. He felt a wave of tenderness for her. ‘Why do you stay with him? Why don’t you go back to England?’
‘I can’t. It’d be too shameful for both families. I could bear it, just, if I had a child. But he stopped making love to me after we came here. He called me frigid. Said the coolie girls are fun.’ She choked on her sobs. ‘He said all I ever did was lie back and think of England. He said he couldn’t father a child anyway. And now you say –’ Her voice trailed into silence.
Anthony racked his mind for something to comfort her.
Daniel stirred and whimpered. Janet drew back from Anthony’s arms. ‘I’m so glad you came. It makes me feel better to have seen you. I hope you find Daniel’s mother. Take care of yourself and keep in touch.’ She kissed him on the cheek and slipped out of the room.
Anthony pushed the door shut. Dragging the heavy armchair across the room he lodged it under the door handle. Then pulled off his shirt and trousers and laid them on a clothes hanger by the bed. Setting his alarm for six, he lowered himself into the bed by his son.
Exhausted, his body cried out for sleep. But he tossed and turned.
Images kept jostling each other in his mind, images of a cowering coolie girl, a lonely wife, a leering drunkard and a laughing, black-haired girl who read Shakespeare by a stream amidst the tea bushes.
Will the pain ever get better?
***
Anthony opened his eyes. Something had woken him.
The clock on the wall told him it was five-thirty. He sat up in bed, instinctively looking at his son. Daniel had rolled over in the night and was lying cuddled against him. Anthony looked at the door, which was still securely shut.
He looked around the room. What had woken him? His eyes were drawn by a patch of white just in front of the door. It was a sheet of paper. Listening intently, he heard the soft footsteps of someone walking barefoot down the corridor. Whoever was padding down the hall had just slipped a paper under the door.
Anthony moved Daniel aside and slipped off the bed. He picked up the paper. There were two words printed on the paper: ‘Hemachandra Mudalali’.
Anthony nodded. So that was where Lakshmi was. The only person who could have known this was Appu. He obviously did not want to be identified as the source of the information.
Anthony pulled on his shirt and trousers. He opened the door, shutting and turning the key in the lock. He padded barefoot through the length of the Bungalow and tapped on the door of the servants’ quarters.
Appu opened the door. ‘Please tell Sunil that I would like to leave at six-thirty,’ Anthony said. ‘I have to make a stop at Diyatalāwa on my way back to Nuwara-Eliya.’
‘Yes, sir. That is good,’ Appu said. ‘I will pack some food for you and the child.’
Anthony nodded and turned to leave.
‘Sir …’ he heard Appu say.
Anthony turned back to him again.
‘Aiya, Shiro Chinnamma is well. She is happy.’
They stood looking at each other for a moment – the Englishman and the coolie. Then Anthony placed his hand on Appu’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, Appu. I will not come here again. Please look after Janet for me.’
‘Aiya,’ the old man looked at Anthony with tear filled eyes. ‘I will ask God to look after you.’
Anthony felt Appu’s gaze follow him back down the corridor back to the bedroom and his son.
Janet came out when she heard the car draw up. She had a soft blanket in her hand. ‘Please keep Daniel warm,’ she said. Anthony touched her cheek as she reached into the car to kiss Daniel. ‘Take care, Janet,’ Anthony said. ‘I will never come back here. Appu is a good man. He’ll help you.’
Anthony did not look back as the car wound its way down the steep drive.
Sunil looked in the rear view mirror. ‘We will be in Diyatalāwa by seven o’clock, sir.’
Chapter 32
May 1969 Diyatalāwa
Thick fog surrounded them in Diyatalāwa. They could hardly see a few feet in front of the car. The town was just waking. A few men, their heads swathed in towels to keep out the cold and rain, strolled along the road’s narrow, uneven pavements. Children squatted around a tap on the roadside, brushing their teeth. They looked up and waved as the car passed. Daniel, wide-awake and with his nose pressed on the window, waved back.
Anthony signalled to Sunil to stop the car. He wound down the window. ‘Hemachandra Mudalali veedu?’ he asked a man who was just opening his shop. Yawning, the man pointed down the road to a two-storey building.
Sunil nodded. The car continued to travel up the road and soon drew up at the front door of the house.
Anthony got out of the car. ‘Sunil, please watch the child.’
Sunil got into the back seat with Daniel. Daniel, wrapped in Janet’s blanket and munching on a fruit bun from Appu’s kitchen, stared around.
Anthony stood at the front door. The house was shuttered and dark. Seven in the morning was obviously too early for Hemachandra Mudalali.
There was no knocker or buzzer. Anthony tapped and then hammered on the door. The only acknowledgement was the strident barking of what sounded like a large dog from the house next door.
After a minute, Anthony pounded on the door again, even harder. ‘Hello’ he called. ‘Mudalali, are you at home?’
A light came on in an upstairs room. A loud male voice called out ‘Lakshmi, go see who is coming at this time.’ Anthony’s heart skipped a beat. Had he heard the name Lakshmi?
Soft footsteps approached the front door and the corner of the curtain was pulled back. Anthony stepped back into the light from the street lamp, so that whoever was peeking through the glass pane of the window had a clear view of his face.
A bloodcurdling scream came from the house. ‘It is him. He has come!’ A female voice shrieked in Sinhalese. This was followed by the sound of running feet. Footsteps clumped down the stairs and towards the front door.
The door flung open. Hemachandra Mudalali stood there, his ample chest bare except for a red towel thrown over his shoulder. His left hand held his batik sarong up to his knees, exposing fat and hairy legs. He leaned forward and squinted into Anthony’s face.
Anthony drew back as Hemachandra Mudalali’s malodorous morning breath washed over him.
‘Who is this?’ Hemachandra Mudalali continued to stare into Anthony’s face. Then his tone rose in pitch and volume. ‘Aney, it is you, no, sir? Over two years since we saw you no?’ He turned to shout into the house. ‘Anthony Periadorai is here, Hamine.’
Hemachandra Mudalali reached out his arms and Anthony felt himself engulfed in the sweaty bosom. Over Hemachandra Mudalali’s shoulder, Anthony saw Mrs Hemachandra in her housecoat, bustling around drawing the curtains open and arranging the furniture.
Hemachandra Mudalali relinquished his hold on Anthony. Anthony took a deep breath.
‘Long time, no? We are missing you on Watakälé. Business is not good there, sir. You are visiting? Or you are coming back to work in the district? That would be good, no? Come in, son, come in.’ Hemachandra Mudalali stepped back, gesturing for Anthony to enter.
Anthony held up his hand, palm out, to Hemachandra Mudalali, then turned and signalled to Sunil. Sunil lifted Daniel out of the car. Daniel clutched the blanket in his left hand. The thumb of his right hand was firmly secured in his mouth. Sunil handed Daniel to Anthony and went back to the car.
There was silence as Daniel and Anthony entered. Hemachandra Mudalali looked from the child to Anthony and back to the child. Daniel drooped on Anthony’s shoulder, sucking his thumb, his head tilted to one side. His big, cobalt-blue eyes stared back at Hemachandra Mudalali.
‘Sir.’ Hemachandra Mudalali hesitated. ‘Sir, is this –’
‘Yes, this is Daniel. Lakshmi’s son by my brother, William. I have adopted him. I want to find his mother. Is she here, Mudalali?’
There was silence in the room. Hemachandra Mudalali looked at his wife and back at Daniel. Mrs Hemachandra stood behind a sofa, her fingers clasped tight on the back of the seat. Anthony held Daniel closer to him. This was not going to be easy.
Daniel raised his head and looked at Hemachandra Mudalali and his wife. ‘Girl.’ He pointed at Mrs Hemachandra. His chubby little forefinger moved to Hemachandra Mudalali. ‘Fat man.’
Anthony clasped his hand on Daniel’s mouth. This was definitely not helping his cause. ‘Daniel,’ he whispered i
n his ear. ‘Go back to sleep, son.’ He turned to apologise.
Hemachandra Mudalali slapped his ample stomach and hooted with laughter. His moustache wobbled.
His wife let go of the back of the sofa and pointed to her husband. ‘I am telling him he is eating too much,’ she chuckled. ‘Those days he is having bread for breakfast, no? Now since Lakshmi is here, we are having kiribath and roti for breakfast and fried rice for lunch and dinner also.’
There it was again, the mention of Lakshmi. So Appu was right. This was where she was. Anthony encompassed them both in his next words. ‘So Daniel’s mother, Lakshmi, is here?’
Mrs Hemachandra’s hands tightened on the sofa back again.
Hemachandra Mudalali wiped his eyes on the corner of the towel hanging over his shoulder. ‘Sir, why are you wanting to know?’ He glanced back at his wife.
There were undercurrents that Anthony couldn’t comprehend. What was Lakshmi’s status in this house?
Anthony moved closer to Hemachandra Mudalali. He looked down directly into his eyes. ‘Mr Hemachandra, I have adopted the boy. Daniel is the first born of the next generation. I will not let him be brought up as an orphan.’
A look of relief crossed Hemachandra Mudalali’s face. ‘Ah, I understand. You will be wanting to take him to England, no? So you want to tell Lakshmi?’
‘No.’ Anthony was beginning to get impatient. He took a deep breath and continued. ‘I will not subject my son to the racist claptrap of British colonial arrogance. I am taking him to a place where he can be his best.’
Hemachandra Mudalali was now smiling. ‘I see. You have come to say goodbye.’
‘No,’ Anthony repeated. ‘I have come to find Daniel’s mother and ask her to come with me.’
Mrs Hemachandra raised her hands to her mouth. ‘Take her with you? What are you saying?’
‘What I am saying is that I want Lakshmi to come with me to Australia.’
‘Australia. That is like very far away, no?’ Mrs Hemachandra gasped.
A look of anger flashed across Hemachandra Mudalali’s face. He gestured his wife to be silent. ‘So you are no different from your brother? He rapes her and you want to take her with you to Australia as your keep. A servant for easy sex. Just like your father.’
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