Before the Rains

by Dinah Jefferies

  Eliza heard the sound of the curtains being pulled back and saw light flooding the room.

  Dottie came over to her. ‘You’ve washed your hair.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s a start.’ She patted Eliza’s hand. ‘Let’s open the box.’

  They sat on a small two-seater sofa by the window overlooking the garden. ‘It’s from Clifford,’ Dottie said in a neutral-sounding voice.

  Eliza opened the box, then a leather case inside it, and was surprised to find a new Leica Model C, ‘Schraubgewinde’, complete with a matched set of lenses and also a separate rangefinder that could be attached to the top of the camera.

  ‘Isn’t that thoughtful,’ Dottie said. ‘You could do a lot worse than Clifford.’

  Eliza blinked rapidly and felt a glimmer of excitement. A new camera might make all the difference. ‘But this would have cost the earth. I just can’t believe it.’

  ‘I know he’s not the love of your life,’ Dottie continued, ‘but surely this proves how much he cares for you.’

  ‘How do you know he is not the love of my life?’

  ‘Darling, you told me, remember? Anyway, it’s in the eyes. Always in the eyes. I’ve been there too, in my way.’

  Startled by such an intimate confession, Eliza stared at her friend.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Dottie said. ‘He was a lowly non-commissioned fellow in the British Army, a Londoner, totally unsuitable … but I loved him.’

  ‘I’m not judging you. How could I?’

  ‘I don’t usually tell many people this, so I trust you not to spread it around, but I became pregnant. The shame was destroying my mother, so I agreed to marry Julian.’

  ‘And the baby?’ Eliza asked, feeling uncertain.

  ‘I miscarried.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ There was a moment’s silence. ‘You never had another?’

  ‘Don’t feel pity for me. For a long time I felt dead inside, but Julian and I have been happy since and I truly love him.’

  ‘Would it be terribly impertinent to ask, why no children?’

  ‘I’m afraid Julian can’t.’

  ‘Did you know that when you married him?’

  Dottie shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears. Eliza put an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. ‘You know, when I was in England my mother muttered something about me having a half-sister.’

  ‘Really? Have you any idea who?’

  ‘None. I don’t even know if it was true.’

  ‘Well then,’ Dottie said. ‘Let me be your sister.’

  They were sitting like that, both looking tearful, when Clifford came in.

  ‘Goodness, Dottie, I hope you have not caught this crying disease of Eliza’s,’ he said.

  Eliza pretended to laugh, while Dottie rubbed her tears away with her hands.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Clifford,’ Eliza said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Dottie.’

  ‘So? Like the camera?’

  Eliza got to her feet and came across to him.

  ‘I love it. Exactly the right make and model. Thank you.’ And Clifford, looking pleased, gave her a peck on the cheek.

  The camera turned out to be just what Eliza needed. Straight away she took photos of Dottie’s beautiful garden, of the house, of Dottie herself, and then pleaded with Clifford for a servant to assist her when she went into town to explore the old city. There she took photographs of faces, flowers, food, of anything she could see. She thought she spotted Indi, but when the person turned it was not the girl; however, it only made her more determined to go back to the castle for her equipment.

  One afternoon she wandered about aimlessly, then sat quietly in Dottie’s garden bathed in sunshine, wondering how to broach the subject of visiting the castle to arrange the return of her belongings. When Clifford came striding towards her with a wide grin on his face she realized she should have chosen to sit in one of the wicker armchairs.

  He sat down beside her on the bench but didn’t speak. She watched him for a few moments, steadying herself by holding her hands together in her lap and managing to avoid shifting away from him.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘What is it? You are clearly itching to tell me something.’

  ‘Indeed, I am,’ he said, and she faltered under his direct gaze. ‘The thing is, old girl, I’ve gone ahead and set the date.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, and looked at her feet while rearranging the folds of her skirt. When she attempted to think of something else to say, her mind went blank.

  ‘You don’t sound very happy. I thought you’d be pleased.’

  She blinked away the heat rising in her eyes and breathed slowly and deeply. He knew perfectly well she had been delaying and, if he didn’t, he was even more thick-skinned than she had previously thought. She recalled how she had once thought he might be a sensitive man; how wrong she had been.

  He was still waiting for an answer, so she looked up, but not at him, and seeing so clearly the vision of Jay in her mind’s eye it was painful. The attraction couldn’t be explained by reason alone, and it wasn’t just that Jay was handsome and intelligent, it was his sensitivity too. The way he engaged with her, as if whatever she might say was of infinite interest to him.

  ‘When?’ she eventually said.

  ‘October. Should be cooler weather by then. Not this damn, god-forsaken heat.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Here in Juraipore.’

  Not here. Not right under Jay’s nose! She fought to conceal her horror and, realizing that she had been twisting her hands in her lap, now stilled them. ‘So soon?’

  ‘We are not getting any younger and if we are to hear the patter of little feet … well, the sooner we start practising the better.’

  He reddened and she tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it by closing her eyes. It was July, so that meant she only had three months. As she thought that, the vision of Jay grew in intensity.

  ‘I was hoping to be a photographer for a little longer. Before having children, I mean,’ she said in a calm voice, as if it was a perfectly ordinary thing to suggest.

  ‘Eliza, you are thirty now. We can’t realistically put it off. So no, I think not.’

  Her eyes shot open. ‘But I was thinking of taking photographs all over the world. Paris or London at the very least.’

  He reached out and grabbed her hand. ‘You are not listening. I said no. You will be a wife and mother, and an eminently capable one at that. Rest assured it will keep you fully occupied.’ He patted her hand and let it go. ‘Best keep the photography for a hobby, there’s a girl.’

  Eliza got to her feet and feeling the steel inside her looked at him full on. ‘If I am to marry you, Clifford, we need to get one thing clear. I will not be ordered to do, or not to do, anything. And tomorrow I am going to the castle to retrieve my belongings. I trust you will allow me a car, or would you prefer if I went by a camel with a pull cart? It’s how I arrived, after all.’

  She took a few steps away and heard him stand to come after her, but when she twisted back to look she saw that he had walked the other way and was leaving the garden.

  When Chatur met her at the top of the long ramp leading to the main gate, all the words she had been practising flew from her mind. As he took a step towards her he waved a few sheets of blackened photographic paper, the type she used for her contact prints.

  She frowned. ‘What’s this? Why is it black?’ He held up his darkened fingertips and passed her the paper.

  She sniffed. ‘Why has it been burned?’

  He displayed a sorrowful face. ‘I am desolate. There was a fire.’

  It was fire she smelt, but more than that she smelt lies and deception too. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘Where?’

  ‘Darkroom went up in flames and so did your bedroom.’

  ‘You mean all my equipment and all my clothes?’ Eliza spoke in a thin, hard voice, as if all the air had been punched out of her.

  ‘Bu
rned to a cinder.’ He shook his head. ‘Terrible pity.’

  Eliza narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to one side so that he knew she doubted him, then wiped away the sweat beading at her hairline as the distress inside her worsened.

  ‘When was this?’ she asked.

  Once again he gave her a sorrowful look. ‘Only last night, and here you are the following morning. So close and yet so far. Such a pity.’

  There was nothing to be gained from further argument, but something calculating about his eyes hardened her resolve. Unable to think of an adequate reply, her jaw stiffened. She glanced up at the mighty castle, then she turned her back on Chatur and climbed back into the car without saying goodbye.

  Back at Dottie’s house her resolve faded. It seemed that every time she climbed out of the well of despair something pushed her back down. She closed her eyes, picturing the depths of a real well. In Rajputana dark dank wells had been used for suicides as well as murders, and probably still were. It was enough to shake her out of the panicky moment, but still she felt shredded. Without her equipment and without her clothes, all she had was the remains of Oliver’s nest egg, the monthly sums she had saved and the small savings fund her mother had left in a secure post office in Cheltenham. Hardly a fortune.

  She felt so angry and frustrated she swore and stamped about her bedroom at Dottie’s. Breathlessly hot and not knowing how to rid herself of such fury, she lay prostrate, face down on her bed, and thumped the pillow, wishing it was that devil Chatur.

  Dottie must have heard her, because she came in and squatted down beside the bed. Eliza turned over to look at her and Dottie smiled encouragingly and asked what all the noise was about. Eliza flared at her. ‘The bastards have destroyed all my equipment.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Chatur and the castle. They burned everything. I didn’t believe it at first, but it is exactly the sort of thing they do. Well, Chatur would. I just don’t understand how they knew I’d be going up there today.’

  ‘My dear, maybe Clifford phoned to let them know you’d be going. You know … trying to help. Anyway, you can buy more equipment, can’t you?’

  Eliza shook her head, then added, ‘My clothes have gone up in flames too. I only have these few things.’ She pointed at the wardrobe.

  Dottie smiled conspiratorially. ‘No need for despair. Just get up and follow me.’

  Eliza was puzzled, but she did what Dottie asked. The two women left Eliza’s room and went through to a small room at the back of the house.

  ‘What’s this?’ Eliza asked, looking round.

  ‘The clothes in here are too small for me. I have put on a bit this last year or so. Such a shame, as one or two are really quite lovely. Try on as many as you wish and then take whichever ones fit.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I am unlikely ever to be so slim again. Most aren’t very old, so you won’t find them out of date.’

  ‘We are roughly the same height, aren’t we?’ Eliza said.

  ‘I may be a fraction taller, but we can take them up if need be.’

  By the end of an hour Eliza was feeling sweaty but pleased to have picked out three blouses, two skirts and two dresses. Unfortunately, Dottie had no trousers, but anything else they could probably find in the heat-drenched bazaars. Dottie promised to send one of the Indian maids with Eliza so that if she wanted to buy Indian clothing at the bazaar the maid would pretend it was for her to keep the price down.

  And this is exactly what they did. After two hours in the jungle of the bazaar and although the heat had been excruciating, Eliza managed to find everything she needed. Though the streets stank of fish and drains, she had enjoyed herself and, as they returned to Dottie’s at the end of the day, the sky glowed bright pink before the sun finally disappeared completely.

  32

  Eliza and Dottie were absorbed in rearranging the library when they heard a rap at the front door. Though still early, a small fan already shifted the air and set the dust motes dancing in streams of sunlight. Even at this hour the heat was unbearable, and Dottie had explained that just before the rains, with no relief to be had, everyone turned crotchety.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Dottie said, as she wiped her hands on her apron then stuffed it behind a cushion.

  Eliza raised her brows.

  Dottie smiled. ‘Well, you never know.’

  While Dottie was in the hall Eliza gazed out of the window at the giant peepal tree in the garden. She longed to be sitting beneath its shade and yet she knew that even the shade gave little relief when the air had become so dry it sucked the moisture from you.

  A few minutes later Dottie returned, holding out a small white envelope. ‘For you,’ she said. ‘From the castle.’

  Eliza took it and as she held it in her hand she stared, aware of an unsettling sense of foreboding.

  ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Dottie said with an inquisitive look.

  ‘I … yes, of course. It’s just …’

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘I’m probably being silly.’ Once she had torn open the envelope, she drew out a single sheet of paper. As she read it she was aware that her legs had begun to shake. She sat down abruptly and read through again, but still couldn’t quite take it in.

  ‘Bad news?’ Dottie asked, clearly curious.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘So tell me.’

  Eliza hesitated, unsure whether to reveal the contents or not. Then after a moment she spoke. There was nothing to be gained from lying. ‘Jay wants to see me. He’s at a camp somewhere or other.’

  Dottie paled and took a seat close to Eliza. ‘Is that a good idea?’

  Eliza shook her head.

  ‘What does he actually say?’

  Eliza passed the note to Dottie, who read it and then glanced up. ‘How presumptuous! He thinks you will just drop everything.’

  Eliza nodded. ‘I can’t go.’

  ‘No.’

  There was a long silence. Dottie was the first to speak again. She gazed at Eliza and gave her a half smile. ‘You can’t not go either, can you?’

  Eliza hung her head, too full of mixed emotions to reply.

  ‘So?’ Dottie said. ‘From what he says here …’ She tapped the note, then handed it back to Eliza. ‘You only have an hour before the car arrives to collect you.’

  ‘I can’t. Clifford would be furious.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ll hate me. You’ll all hate me.’

  ‘I would never do that. You’re the first real friend I’ve made in Rajputana. I was so looking forward to you living next door, but I do understand, you know. I’ve seen you with Clifford: seen you shrink from his touch, even though you do your best to hide it.’

  Eliza felt ashamed, but even his voice grated on her. She chewed the inside of her cheek before she spoke. ‘If I go and Jay doesn’t want me?’

  ‘It’s a risk. You should go, but if you decide you want to come back you must end it with Jay. Irrevocably. I am not being unkind but you have to make a decision and stick to it.’

  Eliza got to her feet at the same time as Dottie, and the two women embraced.

  ‘You’ve been very kind to me, Dottie.’

  Dottie grinned. ‘I’ll always be here. And, in the meantime, I’ll tell Clifford you have gone away for a little break with a friend of mine.’

  As the sun rose higher in the sky, Eliza left to go to Jay. What would happen she didn’t know, but not to go would be like turning her back on herself. During the journey images of him seared her mind and left her jumpy, the feelings of anticipation not quite overriding the fear that he might not even be there.

  She wound down the window and a beggar smiled at her, so she threw some rupees out of the window for him and it seemed like an auspicious thing to happen. She smiled at herself. Was she already turning native, as the Brits would say? If she was, she didn’t care. She felt free, the blood singing in her veins. Wonderfully, thrillingly native, that’s what
I’ll be, she whispered, and the words bubbled about in her head until she became quite dizzy.

  The feeling of nervous anticipation continued as they passed a string of camels on their way out of a village. Further on she spotted farmers and young boys driving their bullocks onwards. Her driver carried on through villages of mud huts with thatched roofs, and it was only then that the doubts crept in. Eliza slapped at a mosquito whining around her face and her forehead felt hot to the touch. Too hot. What had she been thinking? Jay had clicked his fingers and she had come running. And now another voice was in her head. Her mother berating her, telling her not to be so stupid. But this was not a mere rap on the knuckles, but something much, much worse, and it went far deeper, back to the edgy discomfort of days when mothers were to be treated with caution and fathers were never to return.

  Today her mind was a place of shadows, but as a scorching wind blew dust and flies in her eyes, Eliza snapped out of it. She wanted the sunlight, and more than anything she wanted to stand tall with Jay for all the world to see.

  She also wanted to be like the woman she’d met in Paris, whose goal was to be a photographer, and while Eliza had understood she might one day marry she didn’t feel as if she’d achieved enough. She didn’t know how or when, but the fact remained that she still had to get her equipment back from the castle in order to see how much of it really had been ruined. And, whatever was to happen with Jay, she might still be able to mount her exhibition at the Imperial Hotel, even if she had to scale it down and do it alone.

  The heat, leaden and unrelenting, was exhausting, but she kept a fixed smile on her face. The first sign they were nearing their destination was hazy smoke hanging motionless in the dazzling blue sky. She whooshed away a swarm of flies, then smelt burning charcoal and the sweet tantalizing aroma of roasting meat.

  When the camp finally came into sight, she experienced the first signs of genuine apprehension: a racing heart and sweaty palms. The simple beauty of the desert shone, but an extraordinary striped red and silver tent had been erected and was now surrounded by a dozen flaming torches. Was this especially for her, or had he been planning to camp like this anyway? Was she central to this scenario or was she not?