Daisy's Long Road Home

by Merryn Allingham

  ‘Gets things done,’ his friend finished for him. And when Grayson began an attempt to persuade, he interrupted with a curt, ‘To tell the truth, my leg is playing up and I’d rather stay here.’ Then, seeming to regret his abruptness, he added, ‘You and Daisy go and enjoy yourselves.’

  It wasn’t what Grayson had wanted. The reconciliation he’d planned was not about to happen. On the other hand, Mike had not been unfriendly, merely gruff, so perhaps a threesome wasn’t strictly necessary. And he wanted to go. He hoped Daisy did too. She was looking at him waiting for a decision.

  ‘Go and get your glad rags on,’ he said. ‘The Paradise Hotel awaits.’

  She decided to wear the very best frock she had brought. From memory, the Paradise Hotel was badly misnamed but tonight was likely to be the only opportunity she would have of wearing it. Once Grayson had left, most of her evenings would be spent alone in the bungalow. And the dress deserved an outing. It was yellow, a bright yellow satin cotton, and she loved it. It was the colour of sunshine and striking against the creamy olive of her skin. The tightly cinched waist flared to a full skirt, not ridiculously full like some of the ‘New Look’ images she’d seen in magazines, but full enough to swish and swirl very satisfyingly. The bodice sported a row of neat buttons and finished in a double peplum to accentuate her small waist, while the collar—another double peplum of material—curved its way around a deep neckline. It was the most stylish dress she had ever owned. Hair and make-up were swiftly done, but, when she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered if she’d indulged herself too much. She didn’t want Grayson to think she was dressing for him. She’d simply wanted to dress up. For just one evening. Should she change? No, she decided, she felt too happy. She would wear the frock.

  But then she saw his face as she walked into the sitting room. He tried to alter his expression but she knew she had stunned him. It had been foolish after all to wear the dress, but it was too late to change her mind. The tonga was at the door and, in minutes, they were on their way. They sat side by side on the cracked leather seat, listening to the muffled clop of hooves and feeling the softest of breezes in their hair. It felt right not to speak; it was enough simply to enjoy the ride together.

  The Paradise Hotel, when they arrived, was lit as though for a coronation. Every floor blazed. Grayson helped her down from the tonga and tucked her arm in his. She wished she didn’t feel this happy and tried telling herself that they were merely friends now, that it was only one dinner and, in any case, he was leaving in the morning. Leaving at dawn, he’d said.

  The Peacock restaurant was in full swing, splashes of light spilling warmth out on to the street and a low hum of music and chatter trickling through the open windows. The hotel, she knew, had once housed tea and indigo planters who’d travelled from their estates to do business in Jasirapur, but it was happy now to host anyone who could pay its optimistic prices. The Peacock was its newest venture and the management had gone for opulence. The restaurant exclaimed the exotic loudly. Lavish murals of brightly coloured peacocks covered each wall and tall vases stood in every corner, filled with flowers and girdled with what looked like headdresses of jewelled beads. Each table sported a cluster of candles in peacock hues and even the menus had a fan of brightly coloured feathers splayed across their covers.

  They were escorted to a table by the window. There was a lot of bobbing and bowing—the staff had been over-drilled in courtesy, Daisy guessed—but drinks were brought and menus distributed with only a little delay.

  Grayson studied his closely. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘You choose.’

  ‘If you’re sure …’

  She was. Most of the dishes listed were strange to her and she would rather have the time to look around and take in her surroundings. Instead, she found herself looking at Grayson. India suited him, she decided. But then it always had. His skin had already acquired a light tan and his hair danced with sun-given highlights. He had put on a crisp new shirt and its vibrant blue echoed eyes that, in the candlelight, were close to navy. He looked up at that moment and caught her glance and she quickly busied herself flicking through the unread pages of her menu.

  A delightful smelling cloud drifted past. ‘The cooking seems to have improved since I was last here,’ he remarked.

  ‘When was that?’ She was grateful to lose herself in a mundane topic.

  ‘At least ten years ago. At the time we were both in Jasirapur. An old acquaintance from Uttar Pradesh, United Provinces as it was then, came to town on business and took the trouble to look me up. We had lunch together in the hotel’s old restaurant. I have to say, it wasn’t the most exciting meal I’ve ever eaten.’

  ‘Then let’s hope we’re luckier tonight.’

  Grayson lifted his glass and clinked it gently against hers. ‘Let’s hope. We’ll call it a good luck dinner—for both of us.’

  ‘I could certainly have done with some today.’

  She hadn’t intended to mention Megaur, but this evening she’d been plunged afresh into an old intimacy and was beginning to feel her feeble defences crumble. Grayson’s glance was shrewd and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide from him. He would home straight to his target.

  ‘Did you have a disappointing day? I’ve been wondering where you went. Speculating on it.’

  She wondered how much she should say, but he’d already jumped ahead of her. ‘No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. You found Rana’s relatives.’

  ‘I found his maternal relatives,’ she corrected. ‘A Ramesh Suri. He was Anish’s uncle.’

  The arrival of their first course, plates of dainty samosas and lettuce wraps, put a temporary stop to the conversation. But, once they were eating, he wanted to know more. ‘And where did you run Mr Suri to ground?’

  ‘He lives on the outskirts of a village called Megaur.’

  ‘I know it. It’s a fair distance from here.’

  She wiped her hands on the stiff white napkin. ‘It was.’

  ‘No wonder you looked exhausted when you got back. It’s hardly the best time of the year to go exploring.’

  ‘I know,’ she said quickly. ‘But don’t scold. The visit turned out to be a disappointment, and definitely not worth the exhaustion.’

  The waiter had reappeared at Grayson’s shoulder. He swept away their empty plates while a second man trundled a covered trolley towards them. In a few minutes their table was drowning beneath an enormous array of food. She peered into the large tureen the waiter had just served: a luscious vegetable curry. She could smell the dry fruits, the spices and the yoghurt. And scattered haphazardly around the table, a number of small bowls filled to the brim and looking equally delicious.

  ‘It looks as though we’ll be eating for England.’

  ‘No curried chicken, though, I hope you notice.’ Grayson smiled.

  ‘No indeed. But what are they all?’ She waved her hand over the table.

  ‘The one to your right is dahiwale aloo—basically potatoes. The one next to it is keerai dal. You can see the cucumbers. And these are missi rotis. You must have eaten them before.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Rajiv might have been an excellent gun runner but his repertoire in the kitchen was fairly limited.’

  ‘Then you’re in luck. They’re a marvellous Indian bread—made with wheat flour and gram flour and seasoned with spices.’

  ‘And the rest of the dishes?’

  ‘No idea. I just pointed to the menu. Let’s find out.’

  They set to with sharpened appetites, the memory of dreary years of rationing dwindling fast. She thought of what Connie would have made of the laden table and smiled. Even in the leanest times, her friend had battled with her weight and Canada’s plenty must be making her life difficult. In Brighton, Daisy had been too depressed to put pen to paper, but once she was back in England, she promised herself that she would write to Connie again. She would have a lot to tell her.

  Once they’d made inroads int
o the feast, Grayson picked up the conversation where he’d left it. ‘So why wasn’t Megaur worth the effort? You said your luck ran out.’

  ‘It was me that was run out,’ she said ruefully. ‘Ramesh Suri refused to talk to me. He denied he’d ever had a sister or a nephew, denied they had ever existed. And when I kept on questioning, he threw me out. Or at least he ordered me off his property which comes to the same thing.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘That doesn’t sound at all like Indian hospitality.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s a proper Indian.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Grayson was looking amused.

  ‘He’s a very rich man, but it’s not that he’s wealthy. And he’s ostentatious—everything in his house is showy, but that wasn’t it either. It was the way he treated me. Right from the outset. He wasn’t hospitable, he wasn’t even indifferent. He was threatening. Even before I began to ask him about his relatives, I could feel it. And he seemed to know about me. He knew who I was and the fact I’d been to India before. I found that disconcerting.’

  Her companion frowned. ‘I hope this visit of yours hasn’t roused a rats’ nest, Daisy.’ It seemed that Grayson was finding it disconcerting too. ‘Were you alone with him?’

  ‘There was a mass of servants, but apart from them, his two sons were there. The eldest—Dalip, I think his father called him—felt just as threatening, in his own way. He followed me out to the tonga and told me I would never find anything. That all his aunt’s things had been burned.’

  ‘Not a nice family then. No doubt they have secrets to hide. But at least you learned something.’

  ‘I can’t see what.’

  ‘That Megaur is a dead end.’

  Her face must have shown plainly that she considered it hardly worth learning, because he leant forward with another question, trying it seemed to soften her disappointment. ‘Was the younger boy any more helpful?’

  ‘He was pleasant enough. I don’t remember his name. I do remember he smiled at me. He had a nice open face.’

  ‘So that’s one member of the Suri family who is a proper Indian.’

  ‘It doesn’t help me though. The boy is too young to know much of what happened all those years ago.’

  Grayson said nothing more but sat staring at the tablecloth for what seemed an inordinate time. She wondered what he could see there.

  ‘I wish I weren’t going,’ he said suddenly.

  ‘I wish you weren’t. You have no idea what you’re walking into. It could be very dangerous.’

  He’d continued to make light of his journey but it worried her greatly. In recent months India had become vastly more tranquil, she understood that, but there were always tensions simmering just below the surface and the nearer Grayson travelled to the areas that were most disturbed, the more risks he ran.

  ‘There’s no cause for you to worry on my behalf. I’ll be fine. It’s leaving you here that I don’t like. If this Suri chap decides to call on you, for instance, to return your visit, it could be very unpleasant.’

  She hadn’t thought of that. But Grayson was right, it would be unpleasant. She would be alone. Alone except for Mike.

  ‘Mike will be at the bungalow.’ He’d spoken aloud the words running through her mind. ‘And you can always get hold of him at the office if you need to.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her tone was uncertain.

  He pushed his empty plate to one side. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Mike doesn’t seem too well,’ she said diffidently. ‘He finds the heat difficult, I think, and maybe he’s in pain.’

  ‘He often is—it’s nothing new.’

  ‘He seems changed though. Of course, it’s nearly seven years since I last saw him and a lot can happen in that time.’

  ‘He took a drubbing in the Sweetman affair. Not just the busted head and ribs. You know about those, but what you might not know is that he still blames himself for what happened. If he’d been more alert, he wouldn’t have let Sweetman overhear the code to your safe house and so put your life in danger. Or pretty much hand him his own security pass.’

  ‘But he couldn’t have known the man was going to smash him unconscious and steal his pass.’

  ‘He should have seen he was being followed and taken action. I can understand why he feels so bad about it. But it’s water under the bridge. You both survived, and thanks to you, so did I.’

  He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. ‘I wouldn’t worry about Mike. He’s got a few difficulties right now, but he’ll be there for you. I’m sure of that.’

  ‘I’m sure he will. It’s just that he doesn’t seem to be enjoying the trip very much.’

  ‘Like you said, he’s finding the heat a great trial. I did warn him, but you can never really make people understand just how obliterating it is.’ He tightened his grip on her hand. ‘You seem to be holding up pretty well though.’

  ‘Second time round, I guess. I did know what to expect.’

  He looked across at her and she knew what he was thinking. Tonight she looked the picture of health, her eyes bright, her hair shining, her skin not yet tanned but a creamy silk.

  He lowered his eyes and picked up the menu, shuffling its pages. ‘A dessert?’

  ‘Not for me,’ she thanked him. ‘I always find them too sweet and we’ve eaten loads already. Perhaps we should be getting back? You’ve a very early start.’

  ‘You’re right. We should get moving.’ The awkward moment had passed and he was quick to summon the waiter to bring the bill.

  The street outside was hushed and deserted. The hotel’s restaurant was still the only one in Jasirapur that opened at night, but local people rarely visited. A blanket of stillness covered the town and, apart from the small line of tongas opposite, they were alone in the world. They began to cross the road and were several yards from the pavement when a car roared out of nowhere and hurtled towards them. Its headlights were so powerful that they were temporarily blinded, but though they couldn’t see, they could hear the thunder of its engine as it bore down on them. Grayson reached out and grabbed her by the waist, at the last minute jumping her to one side. The car seemed to miss them by inches.

  ‘What the hell,’ he muttered when he could get his breath back.

  Daisy was trembling and he held her close until she’d recovered sufficiently to cross the road to one of the waiting tongas.

  ‘Who would do such a thing?’ he asked of nobody in particular, once they were settled in the carriage. ‘It must have been some crazy drunk. I’ll leave a note for the police. They need to investigate before he mows someone down.’

  She had been too shocked by the incident to utter a word, but now she said in a small voice, ‘It wasn’t a drunk.’

  He twisted round to face her. Then grabbed her by the arm and held it very tightly. ‘Why do you say that?’ It was clear that she’d worried him.

  ‘Because I’m a hundred per cent sure that it was deliberate.’ She tried to keep her voice from shaking. ‘I recognised the driver, you see.’

  ‘Who was it, in God’s name?’

  ‘It was Dalip Suri.’

  There was a long pause. ‘Ramesh’s son. The eldest boy,’ she reminded him, as if he were likely to have forgotten.

  Grayson didn’t reply immediately, but tapped his fingers hard against the side of the tonga. When he spoke, his voice had a weariness to it but there was a note of anger too.

  ‘What kind of trouble have you stirred up, Daisy?’

  CHAPTER 8

  Her fright melted in the heat of indignation. She was blameless. She had done nothing but try to discover something that mattered to her, something she believed herself entitled to know. A secret that was there to be found.

  ‘The only thing I’m guilty of is asking a question,’ she said tautly.

  ‘It seems it was a big enough question for the Suris to consider murdering you.’

  She started at the harsh words. Until now, she’d thought the runa
way car a tactic to scare her, bad enough in itself, but now Grayson was giving it a very different complexion. The pulse in her wrist began a rapid beat.

  ‘Do you really think they wanted to kill me?’

  ‘Well, they certainly didn’t want to escort you home. My guess, though, is that it wasn’t so much murder on that young man’s mind but accidental damage. Enough damage to put you out of commission and stop you asking questions the family don’t want to answer.’

  Dalip had certainly been hostile towards her, but would he do such a drastic thing? She found it difficult to believe, yet under orders … ‘His father must have made him do it,’ she decided.

  ‘No doubt. But it would never have happened if you hadn’t sought the family out. You were stupid to go to their house. Stupid to start this hare running. If you’d told me what you intended, I would have stopped you. You knew that, of course. It’s why you sneaked off when I wasn’t around.’ His anger was palpable now. It was a reaction to the fright they’d both had, she knew, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  ‘What do you expect me to do?’ she retorted. ‘Sit around and twiddle my thumbs while you go breezily about your investigations?’

  ‘What I don’t expect,’ he said in the coldest of tones, ‘is for you deliberately to court disaster. There’s enough trouble surrounding this assignment already. You’ve found out nothing for your pains and tonight you might have been severely injured. Leave it be, for God’s sake. This search for a history that in all probability doesn’t exist is getting out of hand.’

  It was a familiar refrain and she had to bite back a response. The intimacy of the evening lay in pieces around them and they made the rest of the journey in silence. But when they pulled up outside the bungalow, Grayson was swift to help her down from the tonga. She saw him wince as he did so. He turned to pay the driver and she walked away into the garden. She was feeling jangled and unsure and she craved its quiet solitude. A moon had climbed high in the sky and its ghostly sheen blanketed bushes, trees and grass in an arc of silver.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He had joined her on the grass and he sounded regretful. ‘The last thing I want to do is quarrel with you. I guess this business has shaken me up a trifle.’