He’d dropped the invitation in quite casually and Eliza was surprised. ‘You’re allowed to go into the town for that? I thought you’d have to celebrate Holi at the castle.’
‘I usually slip away from the celebrations here, already covered in coloured powder. It’s a great disguise. If you also dress in Indian clothes and have some colour on your face and hair we won’t be noticed.’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘It sounds like fun.’
‘I promise it’s like nothing you’ll ever have seen. It will touch your heart – a festival of letting go of what has already passed.’
Just what she needed, then, she thought wryly.
‘A celebration of spring. Time to awaken hope,’ he added.
‘Don’t you get recognized?’
‘It doesn’t matter if I am. But I wear old clothes and nobody is expecting to see me, so they don’t. It’s so often about expectations, don’t you agree?’
17
Eliza loved the early morning and thus far there had been no further sign of shadows slipping just out of her sight, no fear of whispers, no silent tread. She was not being followed and felt more hopeful. As she rose early to catch the best light and went outside with her Rolleiflex, she thought of Jay’s offer to take her to the Holi celebrations. She had to admit that the thought thrilled her. She breathed in the cool morning air and began photographing the giant swings in the courtyard. When something startled her, she glanced round and heard light footsteps. Not again, she thought, and put her camera down. She walked over to the archway where the footsteps seemed to have been coming from, then carried on down the passage a short way. Silence. But there had been someone. Someone light-footed. Of that she was certain. Maybe one of the concubines had wanted to speak to her but had been too frightened? The silence seemed to grow even louder, so, panicking a little, she listened out for whispers. Still nothing. Eliza turned back and returned to the courtyard to finish her task, but when she picked up her camera she experienced a moment of panic. The lens was cracked, although it had been fine before. Had she put it down too suddenly and knocked the lens? She was sure she would have noticed, so that seemed highly unlikely. Who had been in the courtyard? She went back to her rooms, muttering to herself.
It was now a little warmer, but still hadn’t reached anything like the scorching temperatures of summer. She knew that escaping into the town might be impossible when the extreme heat came, and as she wanted to get to the bottom of what had happened to her camera, she decided to make the most of a lunch party Clifford had invited her to. She would pick his brains about where to have the camera repaired.
She dressed in a pretty pale pink summer skirt made of silk crêpe de chine, and added a blouse with a slight puff to the sleeves. The skirt fitted at the waist and, clinging at the hips, showed off her figure more than anything else she owned. It was the outfit she wore when she needed to impress. She clipped a string of real pearls around her neck and then, as she hooked through the matching earrings, she decided, now that her lock had been changed, not to tell Clifford about the man in her room. He’d probably only insist she move to Dottie’s.
On her way out, just at the point where a sprinkle of sunlight danced patterns on the marble floor, she passed Jay.
‘You look very lovely today,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘The colour suits you.’
‘It’s a lunch party,’ she muttered, feeling a bit too much on show.
‘How very British.’ He bowed. ‘Enjoy yourself. By the way, progress on the irrigation project is terrific, but we do still have to get the funds finalized so that this first lake can be finished, or our current work will be spoiled.’
‘And will you?’
He inclined his head in that way that you never quite knew if it was yes or no. ‘You must see it before then.’
She couldn’t say that she would far rather be spending time with him than with Clifford, and that she would willingly go right now. As she thought that, the burn of a flush spread up her neck and the moment passed.
‘And you look even more lovely when you blush,’ he added.
‘Oh, do shut up! It’ll probably be terribly boring.’
‘Perhaps you might have another word with Clifford about his progress with the backers and the permission to dam the river? Negotiations seemed quite positive when I was in Calcutta but I haven’t heard anything definite since I returned.’
A little later, as she gazed out of the car window, the poverty continued to shock her and she was still trying to make sense of what she saw here. Children, little more than waifs with huge dark eyes, followed the car greedily, hoping no doubt to be given something when the vehicle reached its destination. Judging by the shacks at the side of the road, it was clear many people had no homes. She searched her bag for a few rupees and held them in her hand ready for when she got out. She noticed details, always had. It had been her escape, a way of coping after her father died. She’d notice things and then, in her mind, tell him about them. Once her mother had come across her in the garden holding up a daisy and talking to her imaginary father aloud. Her mother had slapped her hand and the daisy had fallen to the ground. After that Eliza had kept her conversations with her father secret.
As the car neared Clifford’s house, Eliza still thought it was to be a lunch party but, once again, it turned out she was on her own with Clifford. After a delicious meal of roast chicken with steamed potatoes and vegetables, Eliza sat back replete. Though she enjoyed the Indian food she’d been eating, she was beginning to tire of rice and dahl.
‘So,’ he said. ‘Room for apple pie?’
‘You trying to fatten me up?’
‘Not at all. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.’
She laughed. ‘You didn’t ask me here to tell me that.’
He smiled. ‘No. I wanted to let you know that your freedom has been restored.’
‘Thank you. It means such a lot. But I need your help with something else now.’
‘Oh?’
‘Something odd happened this morning. I turned my back for just a few minutes and when I turned around I found my camera lens was broken. A crack right down the centre. It’s the one I need to use when I’m out and about.’
‘You must have knocked it without realizing.’
‘I really don’t think so, but where can I get a new lens? And I’m worried that the body of the Rolleiflex might have been damaged too.’
‘Do you have the camera with you?’
‘I left it on the hall table.’
‘I’ll get it sent to Delhi, but I have to warn you it won’t be speedy.’ He paused. ‘Now I want to explain my idea. Run it past you, if you like.’
‘Go on.’
He nodded. ‘Well, as you know I’m doing my best to ferret out funding for your Prince’s irrigation project.’
‘He isn’t my Prince, Clifford.’
‘Just a figure of speech. What I mean is that if you could do a little something for me in return that would be absolutely spot on.’
‘Of course. Anything.’
‘We’d like you to keep your eyes peeled and report back to me if anything out of the ordinary happens. I think I told you that we believe Anish to be a weak, self-indulgent ruler, and we wouldn’t mind making a few changes, if you get my meaning.’
‘Are you asking me to spy for you?’ she said, unsure how to respond to his astonishing request and worrying that Chatur’s accusations might well have some basis in truth.
‘Of course not. Just keep your eyes open. If anything happens that you’re uncertain about, or that seems odd, let me know. You can always say you need to see me on the pretext of delivering your plates and marked-up prints.’
18
March
The second day of the Holi celebrations came round. Excited, but also nervous about going into the town at night with Jay, Eliza recalled her first journey with him. Part of her longed to be out in the wild forests of the Aravalli hills, watching th
e demoiselle cranes flying low over the desert, and the great white pelicans taking off from the water’s edge. Clifford’s request had unsettled her, and Jay remained the one person she did tentatively feel she could put her faith in.
That evening, when she joined the celebration taking place in one of the courtyards, she kept an eye out for him and soon spotted him with a young boy. She assumed the boy must be Jay’s younger brother, whom she’d heard about but had never seen. After an hour or so Jay came over, wrapped in a striped woollen blanket. He whispered in her ear, and they slipped out of the courtyard and through to another unfamiliar passageway. Immensely relieved to be leaving the cloying atmosphere of the castle behind, Eliza breathed more freely.
‘Was that your brother?’ she asked.
‘Yes. He’s at boarding school in England but he’s back for a short visit. It’s important he doesn’t become too English, but it’s a long journey here and back so he doesn’t come back as often as he should.’ He paused. ‘Now, nobody except the family knows of this exit. Take my hand. I’m afraid you’ll have to hold tight. It’s very dark.’
She laughed. ‘I feel honoured.’
They walked slowly, and something about being in the dark with him loosened her tongue. ‘You asked me once if I believed in destiny. Why?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day.’
‘Tell me now. Please.’
Where the tunnel was so narrow it allowed for only one person at a time, she smelt damp earth and foliage and heard the faint drip of water. ‘An underground stream,’ he said, and reached back for her other hand too, his fingers closing tightly around hers. They stopped walking.
‘You told me about your father and the bomb that was thrown that day in Delhi.’
‘Yes,’ she said, hearing the buzz of flying insects and wondering what he was about to say.
‘Do you recall a young Indian boy at the scene?’
She thought about it. ‘I think I do. Do you mean down on the street?’
‘He helped you up when you had been kneeling at your father’s side.’
‘Yes.’
‘It was a terrible thing to have happened, but I never forgot the young English girl. I never forgot you. It was me. I was the young Indian boy.’
It felt unbelievable that this could be true, but Eliza was glad he couldn’t witness the tears that burned her eyelids. She squeezed his hands very tightly and, even though it was dark, something inexplicable passed between them. They stayed like that for a few minutes and an extraordinary feeling of peace washed over her. Because he had been there, had shared the very moment she had lost her father, it seemed to release something inside her. She couldn’t explain it, but because she had not been so alone in those awful moments after all – he had been there too – she felt she might be able to come out from living in the shadow of her father’s death. She held her breath and let this new thing wash over her, whatever it was, not wanting to move, ever, but the tunnel was cold and when she shivered they began to walk on.
‘I was in the procession,’ he said, ‘with my mother in a howdah on one of the elephants. I climbed down when the explosion happened.’
‘Did you know who I was straight away – when I first arrived here, I mean?’
‘Not immediately, but you told me you had lived in Delhi and I recalled that the name of the man who had been killed was Fraser. After a few enquiries I wondered if that might be who you were.’
‘Why didn’t you say when I told you about the bomb?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t feel I knew you well enough. I was worried about how it might affect you.’
‘I’m glad you’ve told me now. It means such a lot and I’m very grateful.’
The exit from the castle was concealed behind a heavy wooden door that creaked as he unlocked it. ‘Mind the thorn bushes,’ he said as they went out. Then, as they made their way into the old city, he gave her the blanket and told her to cover her head and as much of her face as she could, though by now she was so coated in the coloured powder that had been all around them, nobody would know she was not one of them. Nothing about the celebration at the castle had prepared her for what was to come here in the town.
It was the night before full moon: everywhere bonfires were burning all the dried leaves and twigs of winter, and huge crowds of people had filled the streets and squares. But it was the mesmerizing drumming that thumped in her blood, the rhythm weaving through the dancing people who continued to throw coloured powders. Clouds of it brightened the air: red, blue, green and yellow swirling, flying in great puffs and then drifting over everyone. It was as if heaven had opened its paintbox and emptied the colours on to the world below. The noise of it all made speech impossible, but Jay held her hand tightly and she knew not to let go. Eliza touched her face and when she glanced at her fingers she saw they were blue. The powder was in her hair, in her eyelashes and in her mouth, and she was relieved when people in the upper balconies of houses lining the street began spraying water from long hosepipes. But with the addition of water the colour simply congealed and didn’t run off. If Eliza had not been with Jay, the exotic, crazy night would have been too much. As it was, there were only moments of anxiety when the chaos and noise threatened to crush her English sensibilities. The whole town seemed to be spinning out of control, yet it was the most perfect celebration of life she’d ever experienced and eventually she allowed herself to surrender to it. Jay was in his element, laughing as he dodged the water and the powder, and she, helpless, threw back her head and laughed too.
A little after that Jay caught hold of her and pulled her into an alleyway out of the way. She was shocked to see people scattering in all directions as Rajput men pounded by at speed, riding horses through the red and pink clouds of colour, and throwing even more powder on the crowd as they passed. She was deeply aware of Jay’s proximity and when he didn’t move she was conscious that her heart was beating too fast. When he wrapped both arms around her she didn’t think about it but simply sank into him. He continued to hold her tightly, the heat from his body so alarming and yet so exhilarating that she wanted never to be released. When he drew back a little he tilted her chin and she gazed right into his amber eyes.
‘Eliza. I have been waiting for you to realize how I feel.’
She could hardly draw breath, her heart feeling as if it was actually pounding in her throat instead of her chest. And then, when he kissed her gently, she hardly knew how to think. He didn’t stop, the kiss growing fiercer, his left hand holding the back of her neck. Dizzy from the Holi celebration, she felt the whole world tilt. Any further and she’d go sailing over the edge. When it was over she struggled to find words and then gave up. It didn’t matter. Words didn’t matter now. Tonight was entirely about sensation. Under the light from an oil lamp she gazed at the curve of his lips and his burnished skin, then reached out to touch his cheek. The skin was softer than she’d imagined, with a suggestion of sandalwood and cedar, but it was the pallor of her hand against his darkness that shook her.
A great cheer rose up and Eliza realized a change was going on around them. He grinned as he removed her hand from his face.
‘You have to see this.’
They stood with their backs to the building on one side of the street as brightly painted elephants with embroidered head-plates lumbered along the centre of the street, the bells at their legs tinkling as they raised one enormous foot after another. The mahouts all held bright parasols and sat on golden embroidered rugs.
‘So,’ Jay said when they had passed, ‘I don’t believe it’s possible to have no regrets at all, but are you ready to wave goodbye to the past?’
As Eliza lay in bed watching dawn approach, she went over every detail of the night. She focused on Jay’s fine amber eyes, and the way the intoxication of Holi had made her feel light-headed. She had never felt that way when she had been with Oliver. In fact, now she thought about it, she could hardly remember how it had been with Oliver. Instead
she imagined Jay’s arms wrapped around her and, as the sensation fizzed through her, she felt as if her entire body was awakening. She rolled on to her stomach, longing to feel his hands on her skin, and pressed herself into the mattress. The arousal was almost unbearable. Then she thought about what he’d asked. Was she ready to leave the past behind? A part of her genuinely longed to, but then she remembered what Jay had said about the day her father had died. Did she believe in destiny as a prearranged formula for life? No. But she had to admit it was extraordinary that he should have been present all those years ago, at the most shocking moments of her entire life, and, now that he was here again, she tried very hard not to think of the future. Yet her mind still swelled with images, leaping into one scenario after another, and she couldn’t stop projecting herself into some kind of idealistic future. With him. Of course it was impossible. She knew that, and yet she couldn’t help falling into a dreamy state of hopefulness.
She tried to talk herself out of her feelings, blaming it on the night, the enchantment of Holi. But he had touched her soul and no amount of talking could diminish the feeling of connection she had experienced when she had been with him. It was a bit like coming home, only home wasn’t a place, it was a person …
The next day a servant came with an envelope and as soon as she opened it she saw it was a note from Jay. He said that he had enjoyed her company very much and would hope to see her very soon. He also said that she’d never been as beautiful as when she had been dusted with coloured powder. When Laxmi asked to see her later on, Eliza worried that somehow the events of the night had leaked out. Maybe Chatur had spied, or he might have sent somebody to spy: someone who had been watching and had seen everything. Someone who had observed them leave the castle and who had followed. Eliza hated the thought of her every move being scrutinized and that crippling sensation of there being nowhere to hide. Laxmi would not be happy about her going out into the town with Jay, and she certainly would not be happy about the kiss. Eliza knew that his mother had been trying to arrange a marriage for Jay for the last few years and was hoping for a strong alliance with another royal family – not a Rajput, apparently that wasn’t allowed, but from somewhere else in the Indian Empire.
Before the Rains Page 16