The Tea Planter's Wife

by Dinah Jefferies

  ‘It isn’t Christina, is it?’ he asked very gently and drew her to him. ‘There’s really no need.’

  She looked up at him, feeling uncertain.

  He ran his fingers through her hair as he gazed at her, one arm round her waist. ‘Darling, really –’

  Gwen interrupted. ‘In New York she told me it was all over before I even arrived here.’

  ‘Exactly what I told you.’

  ‘And I believed her, but really she still wanted you, didn’t she, even then?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Like I said. In New York. Isn’t that what the phone call was about?’

  He looked puzzled. ‘What call?’

  ‘Just before we went to bed on our last night.’

  ‘Darling, that call wasn’t from Christina. It was Verity.’

  Gwen took a step back and stared at him. ‘But Christina told me that she had hoped to continue as your mistress after we were married.’

  He pulled a face. ‘That was never an option. I know that she tried to give the impression there was still something between us, and she does like to provoke, but I swear there was no chance after I married you.’

  Gwen felt tears burn her eyelids.

  ‘That’s why, after our wedding, I was happy to travel back to Ceylon ahead of you. To put a stop to it.’

  ‘So it wasn’t because of business?’

  ‘She had been good for me after Caroline. I was a mess. She propped me up. I had to let her down gently.’

  ‘You didn’t love her?’

  ‘I was fond of her but it wasn’t love.’

  ‘But why were you so distant with me when we first arrived here?’

  ‘Because I did love you and I was afraid.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘I’d lost Caroline. I felt I didn’t deserve a second chance. I suppose I was afraid of losing you.’

  She swiped at the tears of relief that now dripped down her cheeks and then pinched the skin at her hairline where another headache was beginning. This was the moment. It was her turn. He reached over to brush her tears away. She held his hand then opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated, and in that moment, in the split second which is all it takes to change a life, she knew she simply could not do it.

  The world hung silently, but for the cry of a lone crow. Dismayed at her cowardice, she sniffed the woody smell of the trees and tried to think. She just couldn’t speak out and then watch everything fall apart. He had trusted her, had trusted her with his deepest feelings, his fears, his needs, his grief. But then something else occurred to her.

  ‘Why have you changed your mind about Savi coming here?’

  He took a breath. ‘I may have been wrong about him, that’s all.’

  She glimpsed a look on his face that disturbed her; a look that suggested he was really hurting.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  He swallowed and turned away.

  She weighed up what Fran had said. If Fran was right and Liyoni really was not Savi’s child, then she would be able to tell Laurence the truth, but maybe not yet. After all these years she longed to shout out that she was a good woman and had not done the terrible, terrible thing she’d believed she had. But she needed to wait a little longer, just until she could find a way to prove it.

  She touched his shoulder, feeling more certain that Verity could not have carried through her threat; after all, if Laurence already knew he would hardly be treating her so lovingly. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I was thinking it might be a good idea to reinstate your sister’s allowance. It’s clear she won’t be going back to her marriage and she’ll need something to live on.’

  He gave her a twisted smile. ‘Do you care? After all she has done …’

  ‘She’s still your sister. We could make going back to live in the house in England a condition.’

  There was a rumble of thunder and she glanced up.

  He nodded slowly. ‘Once the brand takes off, it might be possible. But you do know the house in Yorkshire is rented out?’

  ‘Yes, but when the lease runs out.’

  Gwen glanced up at the clouds again and then down at her feet. It was almost November and late for the monsoon to begin. She stubbed the toe of her shoe in the dry ground. Soon it would be squelching underfoot.

  ‘I received a letter yesterday. The English tenants have indicated they might like an extension on the lease.’

  She decided to push him over Verity’s allowance. ‘Might we find a way to give Verity her allowance before the brand takes off?’

  He gave her a long quizzical look. ‘I could raise a loan, I think, if you really believe I must.’

  Gwen hesitated. She didn’t want Laurence to have to incur more debts before they’d even got off the ground with the brand, but it would be a way to get Verity off her back, and for now, at least, it would give her time.

  Laurence glanced up. ‘Come on, time to scoot. The rain’s here. Let’s talk about Verity later.’

  34

  March 1934

  Now that the rains were long gone, the days were bright. Laurence had spent most of the last couple of months travelling, leaving McGregor in charge, though Gwen had had very little to do with the man. When Laurence was home he seemed a little cut off, as if he was troubled by something. When she questioned him he brushed her off and said that with so many plantations abandoned due to the fall in tea prices, far from riots being the biggest worry, it was the spread of the anopheles mosquito.

  Fran and Savi were temporarily in Colombo while they decided what to do about a more permanent home, and Verity, delighted to have her allowance back, was staying with friends in Kandy until the rental lease on her home in England ran out. Gwen had made reinstating Verity’s allowance conditional on her living in England. It didn’t mean she would not come back with further demands, but it gave Gwen a chance to catch her breath.

  Fran had spoken to Savi and, while Laurence was away, Gwen agreed to meet up with them both in Nuwara Eliya. Savi wanted to talk to Gwen in private, so they decided to take a walk round a part of the lake there. She didn’t really want to see him at all, but knew she must.

  He walked towards her and held out a hand.

  She gazed at the ground and did not take it.

  ‘How are things in Colombo?’ she managed to say without looking at him. ‘We saw the start of a riot.’

  There was a pause and she heard him sigh as she stood still for a little longer. When she glanced up she saw a tightness in the skin round his eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.

  His nostrils flared and she could feel his pent-up anger.

  ‘When Fran told me, I was appalled. I thought we were friends, Gwen. How could you ever think I’d have hurt you?’

  She felt a burst of heat and bowed her head again. ‘I didn’t know what to think.’

  ‘And yet you thought that of me. For heaven’s sake, Gwen. Can’t you even look at me?’

  She looked up and, devastated by the pain she saw in his eyes, shook her head.

  He cracked his knuckles but didn’t speak.

  In the tense atmosphere she struggled to speak, her mind running over everything that had gone on, but after a few moments found the words.

  ‘I didn’t want to think that of you,’ she said. ‘It made me ill but I couldn’t see how else it could have happened. I am so sorry.’

  ‘Oh, Gwen.’

  She felt a flash of anger, though more at herself than at him. ‘I am starting to love Liyoni. Do you know that? And all I’ve ever done is turn her away. Can you imagine how that feels? Can you even begin to understand?’

  ‘And yet if she’d been white, even if I had actually done this terrible thing, you wouldn’t have thought twice.’

  ‘That isn’t fair. If she had been white I’d have had no cause to believe she was not Laurence’s daughter.’

  Savi sighed. ‘He never did like me. I have no idea why.’

  ‘He’s a reasonable man
.’

  ‘Not where I’m concerned.’

  She reached out a hand to him. He did not take it but walked over to the water’s edge. Gwen swallowed rapidly and watched the birds gathering nearby. He turned abruptly and the birds took flight over the water.

  ‘All these years, you must have been through hell. Why didn’t you talk to me?’

  ‘Back then I was very young and very frightened. I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t been here long and I didn’t know you.’

  She watched a vein pulse in his neck and waited for him to speak. When he didn’t she continued.

  ‘I thought you charming. More than charming, if I’m being honest. Laurence was being cool towards me. I was lonely. But then, once Liyoni was born, I hated you.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I gave you any cause,’ he said, with sadness in his voice.

  She looked back at him. His sincerity was utterly convincing, but she didn’t know how to cope with her mixed feelings. She felt immense relief that she truly believed he was not Liyoni’s father, but also felt awful that she could have thought so badly of him.

  There were tears in his eyes but he smiled as he spoke. ‘Shall we draw a line under this? I’m married to your cousin, virtually your brother-in-law. Can we be friends again?’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  He held out his arms and she went to him, trembling with relief as her tears fell. When they parted, she wiped her eyes. He took her hand and gently kissed it.

  ‘If there is anything I can do to help … search the records, look through the Colombo archives. See if there’s anything that might give us a clue as to Liyoni’s heritage. By that, of course, I mean your husband’s heritage.’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t tell you what this means to me. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I did wonder when our paths so rarely crossed again, and you didn’t seem yourself when I came to the house with Verity that time.’

  ‘Verity only brought you there to undermine me.’

  ‘I think you should speak to the ayah. Quite often lifelong servants know more about a family than the family themselves.’

  With one hand she swept away the hair blowing in her eyes, then ran her fingers through the tangles.

  ‘I don’t think Naveena knows anything. She was the one who persuaded me to take Liyoni to the village in the first place.’

  ‘I see. Well, the search might take a little while. These things are often well hidden, but I have good contacts and if there is anything to find, as I’m sure there must be, I will find it. I’ll let you know the moment I have something concrete to report.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So now, what about lunch? Fran is expecting us both.’

  ‘Thank you, but I think I’ll sit for a while.’

  He pressed his palms together in front of his chest, fingers pointing upwards, and bowed very slightly just as he had done on their first meeting. It seemed so long ago.

  After he had gone, free at last of the burden of guilt, she felt almost light-headed. But how oddly it had come about! If Fran had not got to know Savi and then married him, she would never have found out that she hadn’t been unfaithful. Now that she was certain, she still had to find a way to approach Laurence. He needed to be told that Liyoni was his daughter, and the only question was whether to speak to him immediately or wait until she had dug up evidence of Ceylonese blood in his family.

  She turned it over in her mind. It was better to wait. She pulled her shawl more tightly round her shoulders as the wind began to blow, hardly able to believe that this day had come. Yet despite her joy at no longer having to harbour the hate she’d felt for Savi, nothing could wipe away the fact that she had given her own child away. She sat on the bench watching the wind bending the trees on the opposite side of the Nuwara Eliya lake and had never felt so alone.

  Once both Gwen and Laurence were back home, they heard that the new brand had enjoyed good sales after its launch in December and, despite the price of tea being so low, profits were likely to be reasonable. Christina had wired too, from America, her words encouraging them to stay positive because things could only get better. For the first time, Gwen heard Christina’s name without the slightest wobble.

  Hugh was also back for the weekend. He’d grown used to the fact that Liyoni could no longer play outside or swim in the lake with him, yet he spent hours at her side, reading to her and showing her how to do crossword puzzles.

  Gwen came upon them huddled together in a corner of the nursery, giggling and looking so happy in each other’s company that her heart skipped a beat. At eight years old, they were so different in appearance: Hugh well-built and tall, just like Laurence, and Liyoni delicate and pretty. With every month that passed, she looked more like Gwen. Her English had come on, and she even spoke with a fairly authentic accent. And with Verity gone, this was a much-needed space for Gwen to spend a little time with both her children.

  She found her voice and smiled. ‘What are you two doing?’

  ‘Drawing, Mummy,’ said Hugh.

  ‘Can I see?’

  He pushed the two pieces of paper towards her and she squatted down to look. Hugh had drawn a rather good aeroplane, a type used during the Great War.

  ‘It’s a German plane,’ he said.

  ‘Very nice.’

  But when she looked at the other drawing she saw that, once again, Liyoni had drawn a waterfall.

  ‘She only draws waterfalls, Mummy.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can’t you take her to see it, Mummy? Just one time,’ he said in a wheedling tone of voice.

  ‘I haven’t come in here to talk about waterfalls, darling. I’ve come to say it’s time to wash your hands before lunch.’

  ‘Can Liyoni have her lunch with us?’

  ‘You know Liyoni has her lunch with Naveena.’

  ‘I really don’t think that’s fair.’

  ‘Don’t you indeed. Well, perhaps you’d like to discuss the matter with your father over luncheon.’

  He grinned at her. ‘All right, Mummy, you win.’

  Gwen had never got used to sleeping in Laurence’s room, so when he was back, more often than not, he spent the night with her in her room. On his final night home before he set off again, she was moved by his tenderness. After they’d made love, he kissed her firmly on the mouth and there were tears in his eyes as he stroked her cheek.

  ‘You know you can tell me anything, Gwen.’

  ‘Of course. And you me.’

  He closed his eyes, but she saw that his chin was trembling very slightly.

  They decided to let the candle burn itself out and she stared at the ceiling in the flickering light, thinking about what he’d said. Might it be better, after all, to tell him the truth about Liyoni now, even though she had not come up with anything yet? She began by saying something about Hugh. Laurence murmured a response, but then, almost instantly, he fell asleep. She listened to his slow breathing, turned on her side and folded her body up close.

  They were woken by the sound of faint sobbing coming from the nursery. She fumbled for the switch to her bedside lamp, pulled back the blanket on her side, swung her feet to the white rug on the floor, then got out of bed. She glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. She wrapped a gown round her shoulders, then pulled on some thick socks, glad that Hugh was back at school and wouldn’t be disturbed.

  She touched Laurence’s face. ‘I’ll go. You’ve got a long journey in the morning.’

  He grunted and rolled over.

  In the nursery, Naveena stooped over Liyoni’s bed. ‘She says her legs pain, Lady.’

  Gwen leant over her daughter.

  ‘Pull up the chair, Naveena. I’ll have her on my lap. I know the doctor told you to rub her legs when they got painful, but I’d like to do it myself tonight.’

  Naveena pulled up the chair and, while Gwen settled with the child, she went to the cupboard and took out a small bottle of aromatic oil. She poured a l
ittle into Gwen’s outstretched palm.

  ‘Rub gentle, Lady. Like a butterfly.’

  ‘I will, don’t worry.’ Gwen had watched Naveena do it and knew exactly how much pressure to apply.

  Liyoni continued to whimper and cough, but as Gwen massaged the child’s limbs, she sang very softly. Gradually Liyoni closed her eyes and slept. Gwen didn’t want to wake her, so stayed as she was for the remainder of the night, and only realized how stiff she had become when Laurence came through in the half-light of early dawn.

  ‘I brought you some tea,’ he said, putting the cup and saucer on the small table. ‘You must be exhausted.’

  ‘A little cold maybe.’

  ‘Here, I’ll put the child into her bed. Will you let me?’ He looked at her with such concern in his eyes, she could only nod.

  After Liyoni was tucked up, he asked Naveena to fetch a blanket for Gwen.

  When she stood, every muscle in her body seemed to be aching. She stretched and put a finger to her lips. ‘Let’s leave her to sleep now.’

  ‘I’ll call the doctor if you like.’

  ‘It’s all right. There’s nothing he can do. He’s given me some strong painkillers for her. He said to use them sparingly, until …’ She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘She was such a wonderful swimmer.’

  He put an arm round her and led her to her room. ‘I think I’ll phone the doctor anyway, if you don’t mind. I’m afraid I shall have to be off fairly soon, if I’m to catch the train in time. But, before I go, I have something to show you.’

  ‘Darling, please can it wait? I’m so tired I think I’ll try to sleep for an hour or so.’

  The doctor, when he came, suggested it was time to give Liyoni more painkillers. ‘Not all the time,’ he said, ‘but if you think it’s necessary, don’t hold back.’

  ‘She isn’t going to get better, is she?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘How long?’ Gwen asked, holding his gaze.

  ‘That’s impossible to tell. She could go on for some time longer … On the other hand …’ He spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. ‘Can she still stand?’