Iris was taken aback. ‘Why should he?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could bite them back.
‘Why do you think I should miss him?’
‘I … I was simply making conversation, er …’
The woman nodded. ‘My name is Kanakammal, Miss Walker. That will be two annas.’
Iris paid, still trying to formulate a sharp retort. As Kanakammal handed her the packet, Iris bristled. ‘Well, I doubt I’ll need to remember your name, young lady, because I’ll have no reason to ever come back here. In future, please don’t address me. We have nothing to say to each other.’
Kanakammal obliged her with a nod and it suddenly occurred to Iris that the girl knew about her and Jack … and disapproved.
Rattled, Iris sped back down the main road, not even braking as she hit the top of Funnell’s Hill, hoping the wind would cool her blushing, angry cheeks. By the time she got home she was feeling nauseous. Flora was soon by her side with a soothing damp flannel.
‘What’s this all about?’ her mother asked.
‘Nerves, probably.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘Well, can you blame me when I have such a big decision to make?’
Flora touched her cheek. ‘My girl, it’s not a hard one. Search your heart. It will give you the answer immediately. But if you want my advice, Iris Sinclair has a very nice ring to it.’
Jack arrived late to the dance. It was more crowded than he’d anticipated and he was convinced the entire Anglo-Indian community had turned out for this one. He soon realised why. Jeffrey Matthews and his Big Band was playing tonight and Jack knew the music would be good. The sound was polished even when the band was tuning up.
He parked his bike beneath a tree and it instantly drew a herd of young men, whistling and ogling the machine.
‘Can we sit on it?’ one of the youths asked.
Jack nodded. ‘But don’t scratch it or I’ll come and see your dad.’
The lad grinned and his mates crowded round as he wasted no more time in climbing on the leather seat and making fake revving noises.
Jack slipped the keys into the pocket of his tux and entered the hall. He knew dozens of eyes regarded him; some suspiciously, others longingly, some jealously. He was used to it, and although he scanned the room he was taking no particular notice of anyone; he was searching for one person alone.
He saw her before she saw him.
She looked ravishing in a simple dress that hid her petite, slim figure but accentuated her smooth, creamy-coloured throat and that graceful line of her neck. He recalled how it felt to kiss that neck, to feel the pulse at her throat against his lips.
Jack’s breath caught as she turned and saw him. He watched her working to keep her expression even but he could already feel the tension building between them.
She was distracted by some late arrivals moving around the room, saying their greetings to friends. Jack glanced at his watch. It was just a few minutes to nine. Ned had three hours and those couple of minutes to pull off a miracle; he’d sounded confident at the beginning of the week that by a second past midnight on Saturday he would have won her hand. Jack doubted it so much that in the spirit of fairness he’d given Ned the grace of this week to do his utmost. But now it was Saturday night, the deadline fast approaching, and Jack was not going to be patient or sporting any longer.
He would have Iris … if she would have him. Neither Ned, nor the Walkers, and certainly not his Indian servant, would keep them apart.
‘Do you want to scribble something on my dance card, Jack?’ someone said.
‘You’ll have to forgive me, Sheila. My shoulder’s still incredibly painful. Don’t be fooled by me in this jacket. It took several burly men and a lot of painkillers to get me into it.’
‘Really?’
‘No dancing for me tonight,’ he said gently, surprising himself that he’d taken the time to be so decent about it.
‘Next time, then?’
‘I’ll be at the front of the queue.’
She giggled and moved away to find another dance partner. Jack genuinely felt a bit sorry. One dance wouldn’t have killed him.
He checked his watch again. Four minutes to nine. He shook his head. Why didn’t he just march up there and either ask her to dance or be even more bold and ask her if she’d like to go for a walk? That would set the tongues wagging.
But no, he wasn’t going to do that. He saw another fellow turn down Sheila Hall and it pricked his conscience. He recalled what Elizabeth had said about him being a taker. He didn’t want to believe she was right. Damn the girl! He strode across the hall and found Sheila again.
‘I’ve changed my mind, Sheila,’ he said in front of the pockmarked face of Melvin Fernandes who’d been churlish enough to turn down Sheila as well. Melvin was running to fat and should hurry up and find himself one of these nice Anglo-Indian girls because soon they’d be the ones turning him down. Jack focused all his sparkling attention on trembling Sheila, who looked as though she might just curtsey … or faint. ‘You look far too pretty for me to miss out on a twirl around the floor with you.’ He held out a hand and she took it, half disbelieving. ‘Come on. I like this tune,’ he urged.
In moments he had her spinning around the dance floor, the biggest smile on her face as she turned every now and then to find her friends and giggle hysterically. Jack took it all in his stride. Sheila was a good dancer too; he appreciated that.
‘Sheila, you can do a lot better than Melvin Fernandes. Don’t let me see you asking men to dance again. Make them come to you.’
She blushed. ‘Well, I like this tune too and those boys never dance with anyone and I thought Mel might be desperate.’
‘Desperate, eh? Is that why you asked me?’ Jack grinned.
‘Oh no! No. You were a bet.’
‘A bet?’
‘Well, a dare actually, but we had money on it.’
Now he genuinely laughed. ‘Excellent! You’ll be able to claim that now, won’t you?’ He winked and ended the tune on a flourish, spinning her and leaning her back. To really impress her friends, he leaned over and kissed Sheila’s hand.
Walking across the floor again, he glanced at Iris, who gave him an arch look and then turned back to her family. Jack took a position near the door to get some air and to keep an eye on his bike. It also gave him a wonderful vantage point from which to enjoy staring at Iris.
He’d give her until nine, by which time the slower dances would begin and he promised himself he’d ask her to join him on the dance floor.
He had only thirty-one seconds to wait.
The band leader began tapping the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please?’
Much of the talking settled down, people clinked their glasses with a fork and the murmuring died down.
‘Now, if I may ask, where is that beautiful Iris Walker, newly returned from London and back into the bosom of her family and KGF, where she belongs?’
A cheer went up and the Walker family all looked at each other, bemused.
‘Aha, there she is. Stand up, young lady, if you please?’
Iris stood, clearly embarrassed, looking around and wondering what this was all about. Jack straightened, his eyes narrowing.
‘Now, Iris, I have a very special message for you.’
Iris shook her head, confused. Jack sucked in a breath, looking around the room. Was Ned here? He’d heard the poor sod was working.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, on my mark, can I ask you to start counting down nice and loudly from ten? Everybody … and ten!’
Obediently, the entire hall of people began chanting. Iris was laughing, looking at her family, who were joining in but didn’t seem any the wiser. What on earth was this all about?
‘… four … three … two … one!’
And as they said ‘One!’ in unison, all the lights in the hall, and in Marikuppam, and all the lights over the whole of KGF dipped. The world went dark
momentarily and then flashed back on to full brightness.
People laughed, applauded and cheered, excitedly asking each other what it meant.
‘Settle down, settle down, everyone,’ the grinning band leader said. ‘That was arranged by Ned Sinclair, whom many of you know is the new manager for the electricity department and the sweetheart of Iris Walker.’ Jack’s breath caught. ‘Iris, Ned asked me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here tonight, but that was him dipping all the lights of KGF to you, because you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky for him.’
A gasp went up from the women in the hall and many of the men smirked, impressed by Sinclair’s clever piece of romancing.
‘He says the nine o’clock wink was his way of telling you he loves you with all his heart, and if you agree to marry him tonight, he plans to give KGF the nine o’clock wink every single night, so the whole community knows how much he loves you every day for the rest of his life.’
Jack watched the entire hall erupt. The Walker family was on its feet, Iris was fighting back happy tears in the middle of them, people were clapping and whistling and there wasn’t a dry-eyed girl in the house; their glowing expressions attesting that Iris Walker was one lucky girl to have such a romantic man chasing her.
Jack felt his jaw beginning to grind so loudly that it was reverberating through his head, louder than the applause that was echoing around the hall. From beneath the well-wishers, Iris extricated herself, laughing and crying, but her gaze searched for Jack and found him staring back at her.
She walked over to him, smiling and receiving congratulatory kisses. Finally, she was standing before him, near the door. He pulled her out onto the step for just a moment of privacy, unsure of what to say, because he could see from her sad, dimpled smile that her mind was made up.
‘I’m sorry, Jack.’
The words were hopelessly inadequate for what he was feeling. ‘Why does his love mean more?’ he demanded.
‘Because you’re stronger,’ she said. ‘He needs me. You don’t. I came to the dance tonight wretched with indecision, but then I watched you dancing with Sheila, making her laugh, making her blush, and I realised you will never want for a woman.’ She shook her head. ‘I fear all Ned has is me.’
‘So you feel sorry for him?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean. What I’m trying to say is that because Ned needs me, he’ll always be there for me. I want children, Jack, and I want to be near my family. This is where I fit. Most importantly, Ned loves my family. It’s the Anglo-Indian way to stick close. I just know that wouldn’t suit you. It would drive you away.’
‘You don’t know that —’
‘I do.’ She held up her hand and Jack saw the sapphire on her finger. ‘I’m engaged to Ned, now. I’m going to marry him. I do love him and nearly losing him because of my madness with you, and his declaration tonight, made me realise just how much. Let us be, Jack. Keep our secret because I’m asking you to and because I need you to be a gentleman about it. Walk away from me and don’t make it any harder. I can let you go but only if you help me.’
He began to protest but she wouldn’t let him speak.
‘Stay away from me, Jack, I beg you. If you love me, just let me go.’
It felt as though this conversation had stretched over a lifetime of pain and yet she had whispered these words in a torrent. A few of her peers were now pestering Iris to see her ring, and were actually pushing Jack back as they clustered to kiss her.
He stood for a moment longer, lost for words as the full weight of realisation sank in that Ned’s stunningly romantic gesture had won through.
Jack turned on his heel and strode away.
38
It didn’t take long for Jack to get himself spectacularly drunk. He didn’t care what the poison was, so long as it was high-percentage alcohol and it dulled his senses quickly. He finished a quarter bottle of Scotch neat and chased that up with what was left of the gin and a glass or two of white rum.
The cocktail worked and within an hour of screeching back into his drive Jack was lurching about the house, banging into things and shooshing himself, unaware that only Gangai was present, watching silently and unhappily from the shadows, prepared to intervene only should the master hurt himself.
Jack noticed the time through his haze of blurred thoughts. It was just past midnight and he began to laugh; quietly at first and then it gathered momentum until the laugh took on a more crazy quality of a man possessed.
He stood suddenly from the armchair in the drawing room where he had most recently collapsed, alarming Gangai. He staggered out into the hallway, onto the porch, finally reaching into his pockets on the verandah and finding what he wanted. With a whoop of triumph he lurched, almost fell down the stairs, and then disappeared momentarily from Gangai’s sight. A minute or two later the sound of the motorbike purred into life as Jack sped off, oblivious to Gangai waving his arms and shouting. He was on a mission now.
Gangai watched until he saw the tail-light of the bike disappear as Jack swept left and made for Funnell’s Hill.
In the Walker house it was all smiles and congratulations. Ned had heard, long before he actually knocked off his shift, that his party trick – forever to be known as the nine o’clock wink – had won him the heart of Iris Walker.
She had flung herself into his arms when she’d seen him walking up their driveway. She was still in her gorgeous party frock – he had never seen her look more beautiful than now, in the dark, just the moonlight hitting her smile as she showered him with kisses. There was a frantic quality to her affection as though she needed to remind herself that this was real.
He didn’t care what was driving her thoughts. All he could do was drink in the sight of her and marvel that she looked happy, that she appeared to be in love, that she was wearing his ring. He banished all doubt because there could be no room for it any more. Iris had accepted him. And whatever had occurred that day in Bangalore, he would never know and didn’t want to know, for Iris was in his arms, wearing his ring, whispering his name.
Nothing else mattered.
On the verandah was a large, smiling family who loved him too. Even Rupert had hopped out from his room on the single crutch he was learning to wield with his remaining arm to join the celebrations.
‘Well, I think it’s official,’ Walker said on the verandah. ‘I do believe tonight’s dance has now changed into an engagement party. Congratulations to our darling Iris, and to her splendid husband-to-be, Edward Sinclair.’
The family clapped and cheered. Ned didn’t even blush; he was too happy, too charged with emotion to feel embarrassed.
As they all trooped in, Walker calling for celebratory drinks and hot snacks, Ned held Iris back momentarily.
‘I heard Jack came.’
She nodded.
‘And how was he?’
‘Calm. He accepted it,’ she said.
‘He did say he would accept your decision.’
‘You spoke to him?’
‘I did. We agreed the choice was entirely yours.’
‘You spoke to him and you’re not angry? What did he say?’
‘What I expected. That he didn’t think I could give you the kind of life you deserve. And he’s probably right in this.’
‘Oh, Ned —’
‘But while he can give you more material things, Iris, I know emotionally, spiritually, physically … no one will ever love and support you as I will.’
‘I know, Ned, I know. The decision wasn’t hard.’
Ned didn’t have the heart to tell her that her words confirmed she’d been in two minds. Instead he smiled, relieved and happy. ‘I’m glad. And I hope the “wink” was romantic enough for you.’
The dimples deepened in her cheeks as she smiled, and he told himself that her love for him was obvious. ‘Very theatrical!’ she admitted, slapping his arm lightly. ‘All the girls are hugely jealous.’ Iris’s features suddenly twisted. She gulped. ‘Oh
Ned, excuse me,’ and she rushed to lean into the bushes and retched.
‘Iris? Are you all right?’ he asked, worried, taking her by the shoulders.
She sighed, dragged a shaking hand across her forehead. ‘I’m so sorry. Give me your handkerchief.’ He did so and she dabbed her mouth and wiped her face.
‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head. ‘That’s the second time. I could be coming down with something.’
‘Have you got fever? Shall we speak to your father?’
‘No, no. Please. Come on. They’re in a party mood. Let’s not let them down. I’m fine now. It’s passed. You know, I think it’s just nerves getting to me. I haven’t enjoyed the last month.’
‘I know, my darling. I was very distant from you but —’
‘Sh!’ She hushed him, her fingers to his lips. ‘Let’s not talk about it.’
‘Forgive me?’
In answer she pulled him close and hugged him. ‘Let’s not wait, Ned.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean for the wedding. I don’t want a long, drawn-out engagement. Tonight we’re engaged. Let’s get married at Christmas.’
‘That’s barely four weeks away!’ Ned warned, taken aback by her urgency and yet privately thrilled. ‘Iris, I’ll marry you tomorrow but I’m thinking of you, your family. Brides always need so long, don’t they?’
‘Not this one. Marry me next month before the festivities begin, and then we can have our Christmas celebrations and go to the big Boxing Day picnic as Mr and Mrs Sinclair.’
He kissed her linked hands. ‘If that’s what you want, all right. I’ll go see about St Michael’s for that date. I’m sure there isn’t a queue for it!’
They laughed.
‘Come on, you two lovebirds,’ Jim interrupted. ‘Dad’s found some ghastly old bottle of sparkling wine he’s about to pop. He wants everyone to toast you.’
Jack weaved an unsteady path up the Walkers’ driveway and he barely noticed his bike fall over as he tried to kick out the stand but failed.
The lights were on in every room. And through a window he could see Ned, standing next to Iris. They looked so happy. The family was gathered and everyone had glasses in their hands.
Fields of Gold Page 39