Fields of Gold

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘Jack, I —’

  ‘It’s about Ned.’

  ‘Ned?’

  ‘I’m worried about him.’

  She shocked him by crumpling into tears that had clearly been close to the surface. He crossed the kitchen in two short strides and reached for her.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to —’

  ‘It’s not you,’ she wept. ‘It’s …’ but couldn’t finish.

  Jack had promised himself he would keep a safe distance from Iris but here she was dissolving into his arms. He was holding her and soothing her with meaningless words, his face bent so close he could smell the sandalwood in her shampoo.

  ‘Oh, Jack, he’s acting so strangely. But he won’t talk to me – I don’t know what’s wrong but he’s so unhappy.’

  He led her into what looked to be their small sitting room. It was dark and cool and he sat her down on a sofa, carefully lowering himself next to her.

  ‘I know,’ Jack said.

  ‘How do you know? Are you two talking again?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say we’ve buried the hatchet, but we are talking. And while I couldn’t call us friends, we’re not enemies.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said, resting a hand on his, but Jack pulled away as if burned. She acted as though she didn’t notice. ‘Because he doesn’t have anyone else.’

  He cleared his throat and stood up, fearful of what their closeness might provoke. He backed away to the mantelpiece, creating distance between them. It was so hard to look at her, even harder to have her touch him like that and not be able to respond instinctively. He gave a small cough to steady himself, buy some time as she stared at him. ‘Iris, you need to be very understanding of Ned right now. He’s got a lot on his mind.’

  ‘But what? If he can tell you, then why can’t he tell me?’

  Jack sighed. ‘Ned needs to tell you himself. I’m just here to ask you to support him, be strong for him. Don’t let his demons get the better of him.’

  ‘Demons?’ Her lips thinned. ‘Please tell me, Jack, what you know.’

  ‘It’s not my business to tell —’

  ‘Well, you made it your business by coming here. You can’t just give me some cryptic message when I don’t know what I’m up against. Is he in some sort of trouble?’

  ‘No, no, but this goes back to before he met you, Iris. I don’t know how much he’s told you about his time in Rangoon but he probably should – it will explain a lot.’

  ‘I know he lost his parents and stowed away with his sister.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s a bit more complicated than that.’

  ‘So tell me.’

  Jack sighed, began to pace. He felt Iris’s gaze roaming over him. The electricity was there between them and the tension in the room had nothing to do with Ned’s predicament. He had promised his wife he could be trusted. If he was ever going to live up to his father’s hopes, being a faithful husband was surely a first step.

  He took a breath and began. ‘There was a man called Brent – a doctor, apparently – at the orphanage. Turns out Brent had a taste for children.’ He watched Iris’s expression change. ‘Ned fled the orphanage to get Bella away from there. To cut a long story short, Brent ran into Ned again in Bangalore, and as it happens, Brent died that same night.’

  Iris gasped. ‘And they blamed him?’

  ‘He was exonerated. I was the one who actually found Brent dead.’ There was the lie. And now he’d given it to Iris and it sounded so convincing, he could believe it himself. ‘He’d died as a result of an accident. The post-mortem confirmed the head wound. Of course they had questions for both of us – me finding the body and raising the alarm and Ned being one of the last people he spoke to, in your parents’ house.’

  ‘So … so why are you telling me this? What has this got to do with Ned now?’

  ‘There’s talk that they might reopen the case. Brent’s widow is determined that the coroner’s decision of accidental death needs more scrutiny, but she’s clutching at straws.’

  ‘And this is what’s upsetting Ned?’

  ‘Yes. And it’s reopened a Pandora’s box. All the fear and grief he escaped in Rangoon has returned to haunt him because he hated Brent, and perhaps that’s what the widow is using to try and prove some sort of foul play on Ned’s part.’ He noted Iris’s baffled expression. ‘I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s still upsetting him badly. We all handle emotional turmoil in different ways. You and your family gave Ned a whole new life. KGF has treated him well. He was in a real mess when he arrived in Madras.’

  Jack wasn’t ready for it when Iris stood up and rushed to hug him. ‘Jack, no matter what you think, you are a good friend to Ned. I’m sorry for all that happened between us.’ She pulled back to look up at him. ‘I really am.’

  He smiled, unable to tell her that this was the hardest situation he’d ever been in. As much as he admired and needed Elizabeth, just a touch from Iris threatened to undo all his promises.

  She was still talking hesitantly. ‘In fact, there’s something I should share with —’

  But Jack interrupted, needing to stop any further intimacy. ‘I’m not sorry about what happened between us, Iris,’ he said sadly. ‘I accept your decision. But this,’ he said, easing her hands from around him, ‘only makes it harder.’

  Ned’s thoughts were fractured, but he needed to make amends.

  ‘You off already?’ one of his fellow workers asked.

  ‘I thought I’d take tiffin at home with my wife.’

  ‘Is that what newlyweds call it these days?’

  Ned felt his colour rise but he knew he needed to laugh, needed to stop being so intense about all that had gone wrong in his life.

  He walked out of the double-storey building. Originally the familiar red brick of all the mine buildings, the electricity department had recently been whitewashed. It was now starkly visible from almost anywhere around Oorgaum. The house, however, had escaped the whitewashing and remained quietly grey in its local stone and matching walled garden. He loved the tall trees surrounding the property, giving it a feeling of such privacy, although the red-tiled roof could be glimpsed between the branches.

  He had been feeling suddenly out of his depth again, as he had all those years ago in Rangoon. The familiar insidious thought that everyone he loved ultimately abandoned him had come back to haunt him. Even Bella had deserted him now, preferring her adopted parents and her lifestyle in Madras. The voice in the back of his mind taunted him further. And now Iris is already tired of you. Do you hear the weariness in her voice? And by the way, can you count? Are you sure that baby is yours?

  He banished his vile thoughts, forcing himself to focus on Iris. She was mere yards away. He would apologise for his behaviour this morning and she would instantly forgive him. He mustn’t doubt Iris. She had chosen him. She would not desert him. There was happiness now in his life. And once this police formality was done with, he would take her away somewhere. A real honeymoon. They would make love beneath the stars, and pick a name for their child and plan for the future.

  He had nothing to worry about. Nothing!

  Ned let himself in through the front door but didn’t call out. He wanted to surprise her.

  Iris clutched Jack again, burying her head in his chest. ‘Thank you for coming today. I needed this more than you could know –’

  She felt Jack freeze and her words died in her throat when she looked around and saw Ned framed by the doorway.

  ‘Ned,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘It’s not what you think!’

  Jack sighed. His arms weren’t even around Iris but he knew Ned was only seeing what he wanted to.

  Ned’s gaunt face looked suddenly wraith-like. There was no anger, only a sort of deeply injured and sad acceptance. ‘I thought I’d spend my break with you,’ he said to Iris, his voice hollow. ‘But it seems you’ve got all you’ve ever needed.’

  ‘Ned, no!’ she said, moving towards him.

  But Ned was alr
eady gone. Jack heard the door slam and Iris let out a choked sob and slid down the wall to the floor. Jack picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and looked around for somewhere soft to lay her down. She couldn’t talk for weeping. Jack took her into one of the bedrooms to make her comfortable. It was small, sparsely furnished. Quite unlike his own home. They really didn’t have much.

  Love is enough, Ned had once said to him, long before Iris had returned from London, and Jack knew Ned believed this. Jack didn’t.

  He laid Iris, still sobbing, onto the bed before covering her with a shawl hanging nearby. He then went in search of the chokra. He gave him terse instructions and tossed him a couple of annas. ‘Jaldi!’ he urged.

  Jack sat on the back step, waiting, and half an hour or so later, Kanakammal arrived. He gave her a sheepish shrug and explained as best he could.

  ‘Ned and I are involved in an old police case. It is nothing for you to worry about but Ned is fearful this is going to ruin his marriage, his life.’ His wife didn’t seem interested in detail. Her expression told him all she wanted was the truth as to why Jack found himself here at this house, alone with Iris. ‘I needed Iris’s help.’ He pushed back a lock of hair. ‘But it seems my presence here has created an even bigger mess.’ He was still shocked by what had happened. ‘Iris was crying, I was consoling her and Ned walked in at that moment. It looked guilty but it was totally innocent.’ He took her hand. ‘You trust me, don’t you?’

  She looked at him gravely. ‘You are my husband.’

  ‘Elizabeth, I promise you, I came here to help Ned, not to see Iris. If I intended to spend time with Iris in the way Ned believes, I would not visit her in her husband’s house, next door to his workplace, in broad daylight in KGF with servants around and the back door wide open.’

  She nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘So you trust me?’

  ‘I am here,’ she replied, somehow making the obvious sound so reasonable.

  ‘Stay with her.’

  ‘Mrs Sinclair will not like it. She despises me.’

  ‘What? She doesn’t even know you.’

  ‘She knows who I married.’

  ‘You’re imagining it.’

  ‘I’m not imagining her warning me not to cross her threshold.’

  ‘What?’ He stared at her and she didn’t flinch. He looked torn. ‘Just, please, keep an eye out here. Her parents are in Kolar, that’s why I sent for you – but they’ll be back soon enough. I have to see Ned, explain everything.’

  ‘For you and Mr Sinclair, then, I’ll stay.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jack kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll be back.’

  He ran after Ned but he was too late. At the electrical department, he was told Ned had already gone.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Somewhere beyond Bangarapet. The villagers there are stealing electricity. Ned has gone to see for himself.’

  ‘All right. I’ll see him later,’ Jack said hopelessly, wondering whether Ned would ever talk to him again.

  He returned to the Sinclair household and found Kanakammal standing outside. ‘Ned’s left KGF for the afternoon. Back late afternoon probably. What’s happening?’

  ‘As soon as she stirred I came out here. She’s stopped crying. She’s been throwing things around so I think now she is angry.’

  ‘Good. That’s better than despairing.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got to get ready for work. Can you stay just a bit longer?’

  ‘I’ll leave when one of her family arrives.’

  ‘You’re an angel,’ Jack said over his shoulder, already jogging to retrieve his bike.

  Jack never reached the Walkers. On the way he was hailed by the man from the post office.

  ‘Mr Bryant, sir?’

  Jack slowed. ‘Something for me?’

  ‘Yes, sir, a telegram. I was coming most directly to your house.’

  ‘Lucky you found me, then.’ Jack grinned, although telegrams were invariably bad news.

  He held his breath as he opened the envelope; perhaps this was the summons they’d been dreading. But the news it contained was far worse than he’d imagined.

  Jack dearest, your darling father passed away yesterday. Heart attack. His final words were of you. We miss you, now more than ever. Your loving mother.

  He crushed the telegram in his fist and let out a howl of anguish that echoed across the goldfields.

  43

  When Kanakammal arrived home she sensed that something was wrong. There was a silence blanketing the house, which even from outside felt suffocating. Gangai came hurrying down the side of the house, his finger to his lips.

  They spoke Tamil rapidly.

  ‘Is he drinking?’

  ‘Anything he can find. I have sent your sisters and brothers to my family around the corner.’

  She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I think he is weeping.’

  Kanakammal hadn’t expected that. She kept her shock to herself, though, betraying nothing to Gangai as she squeezed his wringing hands in thanks and nodded.

  She found Jack slouched on the floor in the corner of the front room. He was still clutching a ragged piece of paper in his hand. He had never looked more handsome to her, dishevelled as he was. Around him were bottles of all description. She knew her husband hadn’t taken alcohol in weeks and everything had benefited – his health, his home life, his work.

  Work! She glanced at the clock. He was due on shift in a few hours. One look at him and she knew he wouldn’t be making it.

  ‘Elizabeth,’ he murmured. His eyes were reddened and his face looked ghostly from sorrow.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said softly. ‘What can I do to help?’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Who’s gone, Jack?’

  ‘I never got a chance to say goodbye. I never got a chance to thank him. I never told him that I loved him.’

  She tiptoed over and crouched by him. ‘Who have you lost?’ she asked, stroking his hair, his back, realising this was grief, not anger.

  ‘My father,’ he answered flatly. ‘Fifty-four. Too young. I should have written more often. I wanted him to know about us, about our child; he shouldn’t have died not knowing that the Bryant name continued. I didn’t —’

  ‘Shh,’ she said, holding him, but Jack waved her comfort aside.

  ‘No! I’m no good. Everything about my life is one big regret.’

  Kanakammal forbade herself to take that personally. ‘I will let you grieve. I am not far away.’ She stood, noting for the first time how heavy she felt. Her belly was still as flat and tight as a drum, but within herself she felt the subtle changes; a ripeness deep inside, a tenderness at her breasts.

  ‘I shall send a message to Top Reef with Gangai.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘You cannot go to work.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.’

  She sighed and left him. There was no point in talking to him when he was like this, although something made her turn at the doorway and voice one final warning. ‘I will make some coffee. You need to sober up if you plan to go on shift.’

  ‘Leave me!’ he commanded and she did.

  At some point he left the house. She didn’t hear him go but Gangai came running in to inform her that he’d taken the motorbike.

  ‘Was he dressed for work?’

  Gangai shook his head.

  ‘Did he say where he was going?’

  ‘Andersonpet.’

  She sighed. There was only one reason her husband would go into Andersonpet and that was to pay a visit to the local hooch house, where he could drink the colourless, odourless, vile arrack that was the ruin of many a villager.

  When Jack finally returned, his trousers were torn, his leg was bleeding and there was a strange fire in his eyes Kanakammal had never seen before. She kept her distance; knew from experience that although he would never strike her, his mood gave him a dangerous tongue and prompted the most irrational behaviour.

>   ‘Can I get you anything?’ she said, as he threw off his clothes. She glanced at his leg now that he was naked, and saw the long, deep cut.

  ‘I need to sober up,’ he said, waggling a finger at her.

  She busied herself making coffee and frying some chappat-tis. With a belly full of food, he might just drift off to sleep. But he came to her table, hair wet, shaved – despite the nicks from his razor – and dressed for work. His eyes were roaming, though, as though he couldn’t focus. They were ringed in red and she could hear his laboured breathing.

  ‘I made you breakfast,’ she tried.

  ‘Just black coffee.’ He slurred his words slightly.

  Disappointment knifed through her. But she poured him a cup of steaming coffee and eased herself down quietly in the chair opposite. She spoke to him in Tamil.

  He frowned. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It was easier to say it in my language. I can say it better.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How sorry I am for you.’

  He shrugged. ‘We all die.’

  She realised his armour was back on.

  ‘It is right to grieve.’

  ‘My father wouldn’t want me to waste time grieving over him.’ He was speaking slowly as though concentrating hard on his words. ‘I remember when our dog died. I was seven. I cried all night and my father got angry with me. She was his pup and he loved that dog but he said her life was over and there was no point in making a big fuss. She’d known she was loved, she didn’t need all the wailing afterwards.’

  ‘That is good advice,’ she said carefully.

  ‘Yes, old Rosie knew she was loved. But did my father know that he was loved? I didn’t show it.’

  ‘He knew.’

  ‘How, damn it?’ Jack groaned, smashing his fist on the table. ‘How could he know?’

  ‘Your sorrow tells me you loved him. He would have known.’

  Jack shook his head hopelessly. ‘I was a useless son. So useless, in fact, that my mother has likely already buried my father. It obviously didn’t seem worth waiting for me.’

  ‘Drink your coffee. Perhaps your mother felt it was best not to bring you home simply to bury him.’