by Jan Anderson
Outside, the air was still hot, but nothing like it had been in Bombay. Barney touched her lightly, Don't look so worried. Tom will be here. And if he's not, then I'll take you into town.'
But Tom was there; only just arrived, she could tell that by his faintly flustered air as she came finally
through the long cool Customs hall.
' Hello, Ros, it's good to see you.' He gripped her hard and gave her a brotherly peck on the cheek.
She examined him anxiously. Always lanky, he was now extra thin and there were lines of strain around his eyes that she did not remember, the same tense look as Julia. But he was still the same Tom, smiling cheerfully, greeting Barney as an old friend, firing questions at both of them.
Do you want a lift back to town, Barney?' he said. ' I've got the car here. Or is someone meeting you?'
Barney shook his head. No, I came . .. unexpectedly. I was going to pick up a taxi.'
Then come on, let's get out of here. Airports are worse than railway stations. I suppose,' he said, grinning, ' that your unexpectedness had nothing to do with my baby sister?'
Barney raised an eyebrow quizzically. And if it did?'
Then, like a good standin parent, I shall feel it my duty to warn her about you. His reputation, Ros, stretches from here up to Trinco. And everywhere he goes he leaves a trail of bleeding hearts. Where did you meet? The Hales' party, I'll bet.'
You bet right,' Barney said lightly. Someone ought to keep an eye on her, I thought. Mustn't have poor old Tom worried.'
' Hey,' said Rossi, ' that's me you two are discussing as if I'm not here! I'll tell you now that I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, but I would like one of you to make yourself useful as a guide!'
They were driving along a narrow hazardous road that seemed to be teeming with bullock carts rumbling in and out of dozens of strolling people,
all of whom seemed to be totally ignoring the blaring horns of the cars. Occasionally there would be an elephant, hauling timber, and bony-backed cattle.
The road was lined with small wooden houses and more extraordinary places calling themselves hotels. On the rough baked earth were cooking fires with steaming pots of non-stop coffee, and beside them piles of brightly coloured cakes. It was a scene she had pictured often in her mind, but yet in real life it was much stronger, much more colourful, and so very alive. She hardly heard the two men talking, she was taking in so much of this new world that was to be her home for the next few weeks.
They came into the city of Colombo over the Victoria Bridge, one of the main bridges of the Kelani river. On it Barney made Tom stop briefly and pointed east into the distance. Over there, Rossi, about sixty miles away is Ceylon's most famous mountain, Adam's Peak, where Buddha's first footprint can be seen and revered—the most sacred mountain of the East. You probably won't get there, but it's worth persuading Tom to bring you out to this point one morning at dawn and you can actually see the peak rising out of the mist. It's worth the struggle, I can assure you.'
Tom pulled a face. She'll be lucky. You should know what a devil I am for getting up in the morning.'
He edged his way out into the stream of even denser traffic, driving with supreme disregard for everyone else. Once or twice Rossi closed her eyes, only to open them and find that a collision had been narrowly and goodhumouredly avoided. If anyone had asked her at that moment what her first impression of Ceylon was she would probably have said: the cheerfulness of all the people. They
seemed to be smiling all the time.
They drove briefly through the main city centre. Rossi had only a glimpse of rambling white buildings, strangely European in style and all a little dilapidated, a mixture of English and Eastern names, before they were out on the sea front with Tom saying carelessly, I'm sorry, Rossi, I don't feel like stopping. You'll be able to come and explore the Fort on your own.' And then he was drawing up in front of a more modern-looking hotel where Barney was to be dropped.
Barney held her hand warmly for a moment and gave her the smile that had first made her heart tilt. I'll be seeing you, Rossi, again probably sooner than you think. Look after yourself, and Tom, and don't think too badly of our funny old country.' He waved once more and followed the porter with his baggage into the hotel.
' I can see,' said Tom with raised eyebrows, ' that Barney has made another conquest.'
' You're not,' she said lightly, going all big brother on me and giving me some sort of warning, are you?'
' About Barney? Never. He's a good friend of mine. He's been fishing around in the pond for some time, but when he does bring up his catch it will be for keeps.'
So now you're comparing me to a fish,' she mocked him.
If you like to put it that way. There are many worse fellows I'd see you end up with than Barney. But anyway, what about that chap I was always hearing about—Andrew, wasn't it?'
It's over, I think,' she told him. I suppose the
spark just wasn't there.'
So you're free to join the hunt again.'
She frowned slightly. I know you're only
joking, Tom, but deep down I think you're being really cynical.'
Maybe. I've had so much to be cynical about lately, I forget when to laugh, or when to kick the world in the teeth. Maybe I'm getting old, or past it, or something. Certainly fate isn't throwing many trump cards my way these days.'
Oh, Tom, I am sorry that you're so low. I just hope there's something I can do to help.'
Don't look so woebegone, Rossi, just because I'm depressed for five minutes. Now that you're here things will probably take a turn for the better. I just feel I want someone round me who's on my side all the time.'
While he was talking she had not been watching where they were going. Now she saw they were slowing down along a narrow residential road, outside a two-storied, white house. To Rossi it seemed a fair size.
' Is this where you live, Tom?' she asked.
' Only temporarily. Come on in and I'll explain. It's two flats, by the way, not a house.'
But he was not able to explain for some time, for hard on the heels of the Ceylonese servant who came down to bring her bags in were two small children, who rushed at their father, then stared at her, tongue-tied.
She bent down and kissed them both. Hello, Terry, hello, Sue—you don't remember me, do you?' And when they both shook their heads she said, I'm Auntie Rossi, and I'll be staying for a little while until Mummy comes back.'
Terry, who at seven was the older, and growing very like his father, looked at her shyly. You bought me that red and white wooden train, didn't
you? I've still got it. Would you like to see it.'
His father tousled his hair. Later, Terry. First, your Aunt Rossi is dying for a wash and a cup of tea. She's come a long, long way to see you.'
Has she come from Mummy?' Sue asked innocently.
' In a way she has, yes. Just for a little while you must help her do all the things Mummy usually does and also do exactly as she says.'
Terry nodded wisely. Oh, we'll do that, won't we, Sue?' And then he suddenly looked frightened. But she won't get ill like Mummy and go away too, will she?' And before his father could answer he added, You won't get cross with her, either, will you?'
No,' said Tom, glancing at Rossi over the top of his head, I promise not to do that. Now, off with you both for half an hour while we sort things out.'
When they had gone he rubbed his hand tiredly through his hair. That just shows you how vulnerable kids are, doesn't it, and how much they take in. I'm afraid once or twice lately I lost patience with Julia. I...'
Rossi put her hand on his arm. Look, Tom, let's talk about it later, when the children have gone to bed perhaps. For the moment you look just about as tired as I feel. But a cool bath should put me right temporarily.'
They were still standing at the top of a wide flight of stairs, on a cool, high landing. Even from here Rossi could see the flat was a fair size. She wondered idly why Tom had le
ft his original one.
He opened the door into a large square bedroom blessedly cool from the air-conditioning that was humming under the closed windows. I'll leave you to it, love. Make yourself at home and shout if
there's anything you want. I honestly don't know where everything is, but either Nanny or one of the boys will. There's a bathroom at the end there—oh, yes, and while the air-conditioning is on keep both doors and windows closed. There'll be some tea in a half an hour or so.'
But Rossi never had her tea. After a bath she decided to lie on the bed for five minutes before changing and starting to unpack. The next thing she knew Tom was calling her. To her amazement she opened her eyes to darkness.
From the door he said, Sorry to wake you up, Ros, but the kids have just gone to bed and I reckon if I let you sleep much longer you'll lie awake all night. Tea's off, but there's a long cold drink waiting.'
She must have been sleeping for over three hours —a deep sleep in which she remembered strange dreams, of Arabs and smiling Ceylonese, of deserts and blue sea, all mixed up, and at every corner she seemed to see Barney's quizzical face watching her and then behind him, like a dark hovering shadow, Julia, so full of hate and despair.
She jumped out of bed and splashed cold water on her face as if to dash away that last stinging memory, slipped on the first cotton dress she could haul out of her suitcase and went to join Tom.
The living room was even more spacious than the bedroom, very English in its comfortable furnishings, plain oak refectory table and six ladderback chairs and tweed-covered sofa and armchairs. Beyond was a broad balcony where Tom was sitting holding out a glass towards her.
She took it from him and went to look out into the dark scented garden and listen to the chorus of cicadas.
' It's sort of like velvet,' she said, you almost feel you can touch the air. Is it always like this?'
' No, sometimes it's unbearably hot and we can't sit out here. That's generally before the monsoon, but this time of year the humidity is not so high and the temperature drops a little at night.'
But the scents, Tom—no one told me Ceylon was like a huge perfumed garden!'
He laughed at her enthusiasm It isn't really,
you know. I don't want to spoil your illusions, but there are some very nasty smells indeed. It so happens that the people who own this house are very keen gardeners. If you take a walk round in the morning you'll see pretty well every shrub and flowering tree that the country has to offer.'
Rossi sat down on one of the basket chairs and sipped at her drink. You said this wasn't your flat, Tom. What happened to the one in . . . Bullers Lane? That was the address, wasn't it? We've been sending all your letters there.'
I know. I simply didn't want to put Mother into a flap. When I packed in the job I moved my address up to Coral Bay—that's where you and the kids will be spending most of the time. But some friends have taken over my old flat, so I collect the mail from there.'
And this place?' She spread her hands.
It belongs to some people who've gone abroad for six weeks, too short a period for the usual let. So they agreed to let me have it as long as I paid their boys and the general running expenses. It suits me very well while I'm getting things on their feet. Until they come back, I'll probably spend half the week here and half up north. You're going to love Coral Bay, Ros, it's out of this world.'
Julia didn't like it, did she?' she said quietly.
No.' The single word came out flat and hard. He turned back into the living room. It looks as if the meal is ready. Shall we go and eat?'
Throughout the rest of the evening he asked questions about home, about herself. In fact he talked of everything and everyone but Julia. She decided not to press the subject tonight. Tom was obviously tense and tired and she needed to feel her way carefully. But already she had realised one thing The wound Julia had left was still very deep and raw.
Rossi found it amazing that she slept so long and well. It was the children who woke her the following morning, tapping gently to tell her that breakfast was ready and they could not bear to wait for her any longer. They had been up since seven o'clock, they told her importantly.
Breakfast consisted of a delicious fruit, something of a cross between a peach and a melon, which—again the children told her, delighting in her ignorance—was a pawpaw, followed by toast and tea.
Shall we show you the garden afterwards?' Terry asked her. I can tell you the names of nearly all the flowers.'
' That would be lovely,' Rossi told him.
Later, Terry,' Tom put in, coming suddenly into the room. He turned to his sister. I've got to dash into town for about an hour. If you'd like to come and get your bearings there . . . it might be a little while before you're able to get there.'
Can we come too?' the children chorused.
No, not today.' Tom shook his head. It's not fair to ask your aunt to keep an eye on you when she doesn't know one street from another.'
For a moment Terry looked like sulking. She won't know where the snake-charmer is if we don't show her.'
The snake-charmer's on the green, old son,' Tom reminded him, too far from the shops, so Rossi won't have time to go there. But if you behave yourselves perfectly and I can spare the car, you might take her there tomorrow morning.'
What did they mean ? ' Rossi asked when they were in the car heading towards the centre. Is there a real snake-charmer?'
Oh, yes.' He pointed as they passed the large flat green that lay between the road and the sea.
That's the Galle Face Green—just about the most known place in the city. He's usually around, or someone will dig him out. The trouble is the cobra's usually too stuffed with food to perform properly.'
He darted in front of a line of traffic and a few minutes later had somehow managed to beat another driver to the only available parking place. He slammed on the brakes.
' I shall be almost exactly an hour, so if you want to explore, that should give you just about enough time. The Fort is built more or less in a square because it was once an old garrison town, so if you keep turning right along here, you should get back to the car. All the shops are in this quarter—including Laksala's, which is where you'll find all the souvenirs and local crafts, and not at a prohibitive price.'
Rossi started to stroll around, fascinated by all the new sights and sounds about her, particularly the pavement traders, all trying to attract her attention. There were umbrella repairers, shoe menders, men making rough jewellery, and others selling cheap pens and leather goods. Everywhere were the cigarette men, offering one per person and, as a match, a smouldering piece of rope.
It was very hot, but she was surprised how little
it seemed to affect her. So far she had accepted none of the pleas for ' the lady to come inside and look '. She thought she might be tempted by one of the large ebony elephants, or the glittering mounds of sapphires and garnets. Instead she decided to penetrate a little further, suddenly remembering that the Hales, talking of Colombo, had described the narrow streets that made up the quarter known as the Pettah—the heart of the real city, they had told her.
She asked her way once and was directed away from the harbour. Here there was little shade, and with the sudden narrowing of the streets, the heat became stifling. But the more she saw, the further she wanted to go. There were strange little shops selling bales of brightly coloured cotton, and others filled with kitchen utensils and a jumble of household goods, from a mound of Sunlight soap to faded packets of biscuits. On the pavement were piles of dried fish and chillies; shiny neatly stacked leaves to wrap the betel nut in. Men were cutting glass and rough soldering silver, dipping their work into vats of acid. She watched, fascinated.
But it was the brightly painted Hindu temple that stopped her finally. Tucked between the shops it was like a miniature palace in brilliant colours of blue and gold, green and red, heavily decorated with carved figures, many of them elephant heads on human bodies. The decoratio
n came right down to the ground from the sharp pointed roof.
As she stood staring up she realised that not only had she the beginnings of a headache, but that her whole head was starting to swim and her eyes were not focusing properly. She shook herself slightly. It was after all very hot. Perhaps if she could find some shade . . . better still, the thing would be to
try to get back to the car and sit down to wait for Tom. But before she had walked a couple of hundred yards she knew she was not going to make it. The noise, the people, the buildings crowding on to the narrow street, the stifling lack of air were all crowding in on her at once. She tried to reach out for some support, but felt herself sliding gently to the ground in a dead faint.
Rossi came to hearing the jabber of strange voices and above them all a strong, rather bad-tempered English voice saying, ' For God's sake, move away from her, she needs what little air there is.' And then a damp cloth was placed on her forehead. She was feeling rather sick and her head ached intolerably, but she managed to open her eyes to distinguish a tall man with dark hair and even darker brows that did little to hide the impatient look in brown wide-set eyes.
' Has someone got that taxi?' he roared, and then she felt herself being lifted bodily into the back seat of a car. She tried to protest that it was all unnecessary, but the words would not come.
In none too gentle a voice he said, Can you tell me where you live . . . or rather where you're staying? No one but a tourist on her first day out would do anything as stupid as you have.'
' Prince Street. My brother is waiting for me in his car there . . . it . . . it's a pale grey Austin, I think.'
Hmm, well, perhaps I should be giving him advice as well as you.'
She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, but the sharp daggers of pain were still going through her head. She badly wanted a drink of water. But more than anything else she wanted to tell her rescuer what she thought of him.