Before the Rains

by Dinah Jefferies

  ‘And the cash?’

  ‘Raise it. I’ll do whatever I can.’

  Eliza appreciated that Jay’s palace was a special place of retreat, refreshing to the mind and soul. Despite what she had witnessed, she still felt as if she’d taken a step into something she had lost and it was making her think differently. She couldn’t have said what it was. Belonging, perhaps. Though that seemed a strange thing to say after seeing something that could only make her feel like an outsider.

  After breakfasting on some kind of cake with milky curd and honey, she went back to her room, where a set of Indian clothes had been laid out, and at the small washstand she discovered a bowl of tepid water and a jug. She washed her hair to rid herself of the last of the smell, but couldn’t prevent tears forming as she thought of the young woman again. No more hair-washing for her, no children, no life. She left her hair to hang down still wet, dressed, then found Jay sitting in a sparsely furnished but light and airy downstairs room with soft walls that shone like polished eggshells.

  He smiled and stood up when he saw her. ‘You have beautiful hair.’

  ‘Like this?’ She lifted the wet strands.

  He laughed. ‘When it’s dry. There are so many different colours in it. Sometimes like gold, sometimes like fire.’

  ‘So not camel after all.’

  ‘I was rude. Forgive me.’

  He looked into her eyes and just for a moment she felt she could forgive him anything.

  ‘I thought you were yet another British person come to gape at us quaint natives.’

  ‘I was never that.’

  As they walked they talked. First he took her to the beautiful colonnaded walkway he had once described. It was in fact a loggia or large porch, as he’d said, and led away from the terrace down one side of the garden. The arches were pointed and the spandrels were sculpted with delicately carved flowers and leaves. Some were broken, but the stone was softly golden.

  ‘We have abundant sandstone, slate, marble and other materials here in Rajputana. The Makrana quarries provided much of the marble for the Taj at Agra. But we also have limestone from Jaisalmer and red stone too, used to build the Red Fort in Delhi. Have you seen it?’

  ‘Yes, and I’d like to go back to Delhi. As you know, we used to live there. In fact I might have to go at some point to pick up my finished prints.’

  ‘Well, make sure you stay at the Imperial. All the British do.’

  She nodded, and they went through a wide doorway to the most astonishing, double-height room, where the light flowed in from windows she couldn’t even see.

  ‘They are above the arches,’ he said, seeing her looking.

  The way the light lit the top half of the room made it seem as if the sun had been invented for just that purpose, and its height was such that their voices seemed to rise up and become changed.

  ‘It’s a reception hall, but look at the floor.’

  She glanced down and saw that the marble floor was broken and crumbling in places.

  He stood still for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about what happened to your father?’

  She closed her eyes for a second or two, and when she opened them he was looking at her with such kindness that she had to blink away the heat at the back of her lids.

  ‘It happened on December the twenty-third, 1912. I’ll never forget the date because he was sitting on an elephant following immediately behind the Viceroy at the head of a procession. My mother and I were so proud. Delhi was going to take over from Calcutta as the centre of British Government, and this was the day the Viceroy made his ceremonial state entry into the city.’

  Jay was looking at her very intently and his eyes had darkened. ‘Go on.’

  She prepared to answer calmly. ‘Somebody threw a bomb. My mother and I were standing on our balcony watching. I saw my father slump over and when I ran down to the street, I found out that the bomb had killed him.’ She paused and he reached out a hand to her.

  ‘It was my fault. I’d asked him to stop and wave at me. If I hadn’t done that … Anyway, I went to him and threw my arms around him. I told him I loved him. For many years I pretended to myself he had heard me. Somebody helped me up, but my new white dress was red with his blood.’

  ‘Eliza, this may seem an odd question, but do you believe in destiny?’

  ‘I’m not sure if I really know what it means,’ she said.

  ‘We believe you can alter your own destiny but there are some things that seem to be meant to be. That they have no option but to happen.’

  ‘Like what?’

  He looked as if he was judging whether to say something serious but in the end had decided not to.

  He smiled, then waved his hand about dismissively. ‘It means different things to different people, I suppose. I just wondered what it meant to you.’

  A little later Jay led her through the garden to some stables at the rear of the palace. She wondered why they weren’t setting off back home and asked him why not.

  ‘Do you ride?’ he asked with his face to the sun.

  ‘I’m a bit rusty.’

  He glanced down at her. ‘I thought we might take a short trip off the beaten track.’

  A stable boy greeted him and Jay returned the greeting affectionately, then the boy brought out two horses. Meanwhile Eliza was still fretting about destiny and why he had asked her about her beliefs. She resolved to question him later.

  ‘Desert horses,’ he said, unaware of her train of thought.

  Eliza was astonished by the magnificent heads that rose from thick arched necks, and the beautiful curved ears rising inwards to a point, but what really caught her attention was the long lashes and gorgeous flaring nostrils.

  ‘The desert horse was originally sired from Arab horses.’

  ‘Actually, could we do this another time? I need to get back to the castle to get my film developed before it goes off. Do you mind?’

  ‘Just a short ride? Don’t worry, yours is very docile.’

  She felt torn between wanting to spend more time with him and anxiety about her horse-riding skills. ‘I’ll hold you back.’

  When he just smiled she could see refusal was pointless and nodded her nervous acceptance. The last time she’d ridden had been when she was a teenager, but as she was beginning to feel he might be somebody she could really trust in this alien world, she couldn’t resist the chance to spend a little longer in his company.

  ‘Shall we try bareback? If you haven’t experienced it before you’ll find it quite wonderful. It will help you get over the awful memory of what happened yesterday.’

  She didn’t say, but thought nothing could ever erase that.

  ‘You form a much greater bond with the animal. Willing to give it a go? You won’t be able to go side-saddle.’

  Eliza just looked at him but didn’t speak. He took her silence for acceptance and went on to help her up on to the horse, where she sat with her heart pounding.

  ‘Watch me,’ he said as he mounted. ‘You need to sit a bit more forward on the horse and rest your legs more forward too, and don’t squeeze your heels or lower legs into the horse’s sides when slowing or stopping. Don’t be nervous.’

  But Eliza didn’t want to put her life into the hands of the animal.

  ‘It will be fine. Trust the horse. If you don’t he will feel your fear. Just relax and enjoy the ride.’

  Before they moved she glanced across at him. ‘What do you mean by destiny?’

  He shrugged. ‘We think a lot of destiny here.’

  His answer did not feel satisfactory, and something about the way he looked away meant she didn’t fully believe that was really why he’d raised the subject earlier. There was something he was avoiding saying.

  They started off gently, and even though the pace wasn’t fast, Eliza’s scalp and palms began sweating. They passed several poverty-stricken villages and she could see the misery of lives eked out in this parched landscape. It made her think again about how water
would change these people’s lives. Then gradually, as they left the villages behind, with the wind blowing in her hair, she began to enjoy the experience of riding the magical rough terrain of Rajputana. She even began to feel a closer connection with her horse.

  Jay was true to his word. The ride was short, and before long she was back in the sidecar.

  ‘Did you enjoy it?’ he asked before revving the motorcycle.

  ‘Do you know, I surprised myself.’ It was true. Though the woman’s screams still echoed inside her head, the ride had helped her feel less taut.

  He laughed and she looked at him. ‘You should have seen your face,’ he said. ‘Flushed and pink. I wanted to carry you off to my private kingdom and keep you prisoner.’

  ‘You have a private kingdom?’ was all she said, then she looked away, though whether from embarrassment or because her heart was pounding again she was, as yet, unwilling to consider.

  11

  Back at the castle the first person Eliza saw was Indira. Light spilled through the tall windows of the hallway, tracing patterns on the floor, and as Eliza gazed at them she was aware of feeling out of step with such brilliance.

  ‘You were longer than expected,’ Indi said, and smiled, though she seemed a little edgy as they walked through the downstairs rooms together.

  ‘Yes.’

  Indi paused while Eliza walked on. ‘Why? It’s only a day trip to my village and back.’

  Thinking the girl was merely being inquisitive, Eliza turned back to look at her. ‘Something happened.’

  ‘With Jay?’

  Eliza’s heart sank. She had hoped maybe to talk about what had happened with Indi but, shocked by Indi’s hard cold eyes as she stared back at her, Eliza knew she could not. ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

  ‘Did you stay at his palace?’

  ‘Yes, in Laxmi’s old room I think.’

  ‘That’s Jay’s bedroom now.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘So where did he sleep?’

  ‘I don’t know. Look, I do have to get some developing done.’ Eliza took a couple of steps away, but Indi came up to her and caught hold of her sleeve.

  ‘These are not your clothes. What happened to your clothes?’

  Indi’s eyes had narrowed and that same look of jealousy and suspicion that Eliza had spotted during the ball was back again. Stunned by the open hostility, she responded in a clumsy way.

  ‘I … I …’

  ‘He gave you his bedroom. You are privileged. He’s never given it to me.’

  Eliza balked at Indi’s tone of voice. She would not allow the girl to speak to her like this. ‘I’m sorry, but that isn’t my fault. Now please, I really have to go.’ She shrugged her off and managed to get away, but the short interaction had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She really didn’t want to make an enemy of Indira.

  Although Eliza tried, she couldn’t get the suttee out of her mind. It wasn’t even the horror of seeing it that caught at her heart, it was the terrible smell that had crept into her nostrils and stayed there. She decided she really had to talk to someone; someone English who might fully understand how she felt. So she slipped out and, after acquiring a rickshaw to take her, fifteen minutes later she was sinking into a comfy sofa in Dottie’s parlour and drinking tea from a bone china cup.

  ‘Well, I must say this is a real treat,’ Dottie was saying. ‘I find it hard to fill the hours, though I don’t suppose you have that problem.’

  Eliza shook her head, only half listening. The normality of Dottie and everything that was English struck her: the little bowl of sweet peas on the coffee table, the piano in the corner, the paintings of sheep dogs and the pretty floral curtains. A Liberty fabric, she thought as she shook her head again and felt a wave of homesickness.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ she said. ‘My mind is running wild and I hardly know how to think or feel.’ She felt a lump in her throat as she spoke and took a deep shuddering breath. Could she even speak of it? Words seemed an imperfect match against the reality of such a death.

  ‘Of course.’

  Eliza glanced at Dottie’s kind face. ‘If I tell you, I’m not sure who should actually know.’

  Dottie looked puzzled.

  ‘I …’ Eliza paused. ‘I saw something.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘A woman burned to death.’

  Dottie bit her lip. ‘How awful. An accident?’

  ‘No. You don’t …’ She took a breath. ‘It was … a widow-burning.’

  Dottie’s hand went straight to her mouth and the colour drained from her cheeks. ‘Dear God! I don’t know what to say. You must be in a terrible state of shock.’

  ‘I think I must be. I thought I was all right but I keep smelling her burning flesh. I can’t get it out of my mind. Dottie, it was the most heart-breaking thing I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Oh, darling.’

  A sob burst from Eliza.

  Dottie stood up and began to pace the room. ‘Well, it’s against the law, so first of all we must tell Clifford and then –’

  ‘No,’ Eliza interjected. ‘No. Please let Jay do it. He says it still happens and the authorities do absolutely nothing. I’m wondering if he might just deal with it within the state and leave the British out of it.’

  Now Dottie looked shocked and stood to stare at Eliza. ‘He surely didn’t take you to see it!’

  ‘No. We were on our way somewhere and he tried to get it stopped.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He was very brave, even burned his hand, but …’ Another sob erupted. ‘We were too late to stop it.’

  Dottie walked over to the drinks cabinet and turned the key. ‘I think you need something stronger than tea. I know I do.’ She held up a bottle. ‘Brandy do you?’

  Eliza nodded, and Dottie brought over two tumblers of the amber liquid, downing hers in one as soon as she sat down on the sofa next to Eliza.

  ‘Christ, these people,’ she said. ‘I don’t care about their belief system; this is an absolute abomination. Utterly barbaric.’ She shook her head. ‘Just when you begin to feel at home, something like this happens.’

  ‘But there really isn’t anything like this, is there … I don’t know what to do. It was the most awful thing I’ve ever seen.’ Eliza hung her head and felt the tears burning her eyes.

  ‘I’m sure it was.’

  ‘I just feel so sickened.’ Eliza bent forward and buried her face in her hands.

  Dottie patted her on the back. ‘You poor, poor girl.’

  Eliza twisted her head to glance up at Dottie. ‘Jay says suttee has gone underground and that for a while it happened even more frequently after we made it illegal. It must be Jay who reports. It’s better coming from him.’

  ‘Did he tell you to say that?’

  Eliza glanced up. ‘No! Of course not.’

  ‘Because it’s murder, Eliza. They can’t be allowed to get away with it.’

  ‘They already have and they already do. Look, I’d better go. Please keep it to yourself for now. I don’t really want Clifford knowing I was there. He’ll only blame Jay or try to restrict what I can do.’

  Dottie touched her hand. ‘Darling, I can’t let you go in this state. You’re actually shaking. Stay and have a bite to eat. Just a sandwich maybe?’

  Later that afternoon Eliza busied herself in her darkroom, and when she wasn’t in there she lost herself in remembering what she had seen and what Dottie had said. When she thought of Jay she found herself warming to him even more than before. She had wanted to ask him again about destiny and couldn’t stop thinking about that either. Was it, like fate, something you had no control over? If it was, she could never agree with such a fatalistic view of life.

  Her thoughts turned to Indira. She’d need to think of a way to encourage friendship with the girl rather than competition. After a while she undressed and lay on her bed, listening to the birds outside her window. At first the voices of the past wouldn’t let
her go. First her father promising her he would wave, then Oliver just before he stormed out, slamming the door on the marriage and on his own life. But eventually, exhausted by a mix of grief and shock, she fell asleep.

  A knock at the door woke her and, thinking it must be Indi or Kiri, she wrapped a loose silk robe around herself and went to the door, her hair completely dishevelled. To her surprise Jay stood there. They stared at each other and, as her cheeks grew hot, she pulled the robe more tightly over her breasts.

  ‘What do you want?’ she managed to say.

  ‘My mother wishes to speak with you.’

  ‘Why did you come to tell me? Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘No. She simply suggested it.’

  Throughout this exchange she had held his gaze. Now he averted his eyes for a moment before looking back at her. ‘Eliza, I …’

  ‘Yes?’

  He reached out and touched her hair. ‘You have beautiful hair.’

  She smiled. ‘I think you may have told me before.’

  There was something in his expression that made her feel more than she wanted to feel. But was he playing with her? She fingered the silver chain she always wore and the small gemstone that sat in the hollow of her throat, then touched the place where her pulse raced. In that moment England seemed very distant. In fact every time he looked at her, England felt more and more distant.

  ‘Will you wait in the corridor? Actually, hang on, you might take a look at these while I get dressed.’ She stepped back, picked up her contact sheets and handed them to him, her hands trembling. She mustn’t let him affect her like this.

  While dressing she heard someone speaking in Hindi out in the corridor and went over to the door to see if she could hear what it was about.

  First she recognized Jay’s low voice, but then a shrill female voice took over and, though she couldn’t make out the words, it became clear that the voice was Indira’s. Eliza did not consider herself beautiful but had experienced female envy before. When she was at boarding school a group of girls had held her down and chopped off her long hair. She’d lived in terror after that, and the last thing she needed now, where she was feeling so out of her depth, was to be the victim of another woman’s malice.