A Sahib's Daughter (29 page)

“I knew it!” Irene cried triumphantly to Justin, after Samira left. “I knew it wasn’t your fault that you could never have children. I knew it was Lorraine all along! And now you have found a beautiful young woman who will give me grandchildren at last.” Beside herself with joy, she hugged and kissed her son.

“Ma,” said Justin. “Please listen to me. I never informed Sammy that I couldn’t have children. I didn’t mean to deceive her. It just never came up. It was irresponsible of me. I realize that now. If she finds out…she’ll be furious. I wanted her so much, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Well, then she doesn’t ever need to know,” said Irene, wanting things to go smoothly. “There’s no reason to tell her now. I’ll speak to Ed. It will be our little secret. There’s no harm done. Obviously, the doctors were wrong in their diagnosis, so it’s just as well you never told her. It all worked out for the best! Now go you and tell her how happy you are. Don’t you understand? You’re going to have a child at last!”

He couldn’t take it in. He and Lorraine had tried so hard to have children. He hadn’t even contemplated having a child with Samira. He realized it had been very wrong of him not to tell her about his infertility. She was a young woman, and she would obviously want a family. This had happened a lot sooner than either of them had expected, but for all he knew, it was their one and only chance. Perhaps it was a miracle that they had proved the doctors wrong. And his mother was right. There was no point in confessing to Sammy at this point, when evidently there was nothing to confess.

So he went into her room and kissed her and told her how happy he was. He was just a foolish man who hadn’t known what to say and needed his mother to tell him. He rubbed her back and then her front and made her giggle and was finally able to coax her back to the living room. Edward had come home, congratulated them both warmly and went to pour gin and tonics for everyone, except for Samira who could now only have tonic or lemonade.

Justin and Samira’s landlady went to the bakery shop just before five the next day, the last day of August, to pick up Justin’s check for the first and last months’ rent. In exchange, she gave Edward the keys to the house. They’d already paid a deposit to secure the rental agreement. When Edward arrived home, Justin was at the pub with some school friends, and he didn’t get home till dinner time, despite promising Samira that they would look at the house that evening.

“Well, it’s no use going now,” said Edward after dinner. “The power won’t be turned on till tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, darling, but I ran into some fellows I hadn’t seen in years, and one drink led to another,” Justin explained to Samira. She was sulking in an armchair in the corner of the room, pretending to read. It felt to her like she was always pouting over one thing or another these days, a new feeling for her, and something she didn’t relish.

So it wasn’t till the following morning that they finally went to see the house that was going to be their home for the next five months. They loaded up the car with their clothes and a few odds and ends that Irene said they might need.

“Ma, it’s furnished, and she said there were plenty of linens,” Justin said, handing back the towels she said they should bring.

It was only a short drive to the house on Tullybrannigan Road. Samira ran up the mossy pathway and waited for Justin to unlock the front door.

“Just think, our first home!” she said. “Much as I love your parents, it will be so nice to have our own space.”

“Absolutely,” said Justin, opening the door. “Ohhh.”

A smell of damp hung in the air. All the curtains were drawn, and it was so dark they could barely distinguish the staircase in the hallway. Justin went into the front room and flicked the light switch, but the power hadn’t been turned on yet. He went to the window and pulled the drapes which felt cold and clammy. The room looked and smelled like someone had died in it. The sofas were old and dingy, the rug was threadbare and the furniture could have been picked up from the side of the road.

“Oh, my god!” said Justin. “What a dump.”

The dining room was just as bad, and the kitchen was deplorable. The burners on the electric range were rusted through, the sink was an original from the thirties, and the cupboards were dank and smelled of wet plywood.

“No wonder she didn’t want to show us the place,” said Samira. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to her house and getting our money back, that’s what we’re going to do.” said Justin. “Let’s go.”

They jumped into the car and went to the address on the lease. Justin went to the front door and pushed the doorbell. No one came to the door, and the house had an abandoned feel. There was no car in the driveway. Finally one of the neighbors who was passing said,

“Oh if you’re looking for Maxine she’s gone to England. I doubt she’ll be back before Christmas. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Justin told him they had just rented a house from her and needed to see her.

“You mean the house on the Tullybrannigan Road, no doubt. Ach, well.” The man stopped, obviously not liking to say more.

“Yes, and it’s a disgrace!” said Samira.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “One time, there were tenants who kept a cow in the backyard. It was in the newspaper and all. But I guess you didn’t know if you’re not from round here. Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you. Cheerio.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Justin, getting back into the car. “Looks like we’ve been conned.”

“And she has all our checks. Even if we give her notice in writing, she has two months’ rent and our deposit,” said Samira.

They told Irene their story. Samira was furious with Justin. If he hadn’t been so busy with his friends and his fishing trips, this would not have happened. But because she didn’t want to castigate him in front of his mother, she kept her feelings to herself.

“It seems there’s nothing for it but to give the place a good clean,” Irene said, going to her cupboards and filling up a basket with cleaning products, brushes and dusters. “Grab the vacuum cleaner, son, and let’s see what we can do.”

Irene was just as horrified by the house as they’d been. But no one could clean like her, Irene proclaimed, and went about trying to prove it with gusto. Samira had never cleaned anything in her life. She’d been excited at the prospect of keeping house without a single servant to help her. She hadn’t cooked much, either. Her experience of cooking was limited to helping Prava and baking the occasional dessert or cake at home.

But she helped as much as she could. Irene laughed at her clumsy efforts.

“Here, let me do that, you little princess! You’re pregnant. You should be sitting with your feet up not scrubbing floors.”

They spent the rest of the morning cleaning and returned to Irene’s house for lunch and to pick up the towels Justin had rejected, as well as fresh sheets, blankets, crockery and cutlery. In the afternoon, they shook out the rugs, vacuumed, polished and dusted. Edward joined them at five and proceeded to wash the windows. Samira was amazed by his skill.

“That’s his thing,” laughed Irene. “No one can wash windows like Da.”

By the end of the day, the place was unrecognizable. The floors shone, the sofas were draped with a pair of blue bedspreads, and the kitchen cupboards were lined with fresh paper. All the chipped cups and plates were put away and replaced with some of Irene’s blue, willow-patterned china. Samira had found some flowers in the garden and arranged them in a vase on the dining table, which was spread with a blue-and-white checkered tablecloth.

Upstairs, the bedroom had been aired, the mattress turned and the bed made with fresh sheets and blankets. The bathroom gleamed and smelled of pine, and there were fluffy towels in place of the indescribable ones that had hung there earlier.

“Holy Jesus, I’m done out,” gasped Irene. Finally, she could find nothing else to clean.

“I just can’t thank you enough,” said Samira. “We could never have done this on our own. The place is totally transformed.”

“We’ll come back another day and tackle the yard,” said Edward. “After all Justin’s help with our shop, it’s the least we can do for you.”

“How about we all clean up and meet at the Northern Star for dinner around seven?” suggested Justin. “My treat.”

“We’ll be there,” said Irene, enthusiastically. “I couldn’t do another thing today!”

Samira felt no compunction about her ignorance when it came to washing machines or vacuum cleaners, or not knowing how to cook, wash up and clean but Justin hated to admit that he had limited experience in those departments. He had become a Pukka Sahib accustomed to issuing orders, not doing things himself. Their little experiment with housekeeping was not going well.

“Everything seems to burn,” cried Samira. “I just turned my back for one second, and the bacon burned to a crisp.”

They were cooking a late breakfast the next morning, after stocking up on groceries at the supermarket. Samira was amazed by the abundance and variety in the shops.

“My god, Justin, I could go mad in here, and I am eating for two, after all.”

“Well, just put whatever you want in the trolley.”

“But it’s all so expensive! That chicken is two hundred rupees!”

“I told you to stop doing that!”

“I know, but I can’t help it. Well, okay. I need that apple pie, whatever the price!”

Justin, washing the breakfast dishes, said,

“There’s no hot water. I thought you said you had turned the water heater on.”

“You mean that’s not the switch?” asked Samira. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

“Oh, by the way, my parents are coming to help with the yard this afternoon.”

“I wish they wouldn’t. They’ve done so much for us already. And do we really need to worry about the yard?”

“They enjoy helping us. They have all this pent-up energy.”

Sure enough, Edward and Irene arrived in the afternoon equipped for some serious gardening. Irene’s hair was tied back in a bandana, and Edward was wearing wellington boots. Samira felt obligated to join in, but Irene told her to go and put her feet up, which she gladly did. How was she ever going to cope without servants? It felt like their needs were unending. Justin was instructed to trim the hedge, while Edward cut the grass and Irene weeded and hoed the flower beds.

Samira made tea a little later and invited them in.

“Ach, we can’t come in and filthy your clean house after all the work we did. We’ll have tea on the lawn,” protested Irene.

Tea on the lawn was a lot less glamorous than it sounded. There was no garden furniture, and they had to stand around sipping their tea and eating ginger snaps out of the packet.

“We’ve always wanted to try Indian food,” Irene said, as they were leaving. Food was her passion. She could remember what she ate on any given day many years later. She produced fabulous meals and loved to eat. It was an obvious hint.

“It’s the best food in the world!” said Samira. “Come and have dinner with us on Saturday. I’ll cook you an Indian meal!”

She was subdued after they left.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” asked Justin. “Put your feet up. Or would you like me to rub them?”

“I’m worried about cooking the Indian meal. I’ve no idea how.”

“Yes, I wondered about that. Well, maybe we can do it together. Let’s get a recipe book from the library.”

But there were none to be found in the Newcastle library or in the book store, either. So they drove to Belfast to find an Indian recipe book and hunted out a supermarket where they could buy spices. They were told there was an Asian market near Queen’s University. The spices were wildly expensive when converted into rupees, and Samira groaned.

“Oh, why did I ever suggest this?”

Early on Saturday, they started to prepare the meal, chicken korma, dhal and vegetable pulao rice, nothing too hot and spicy. But it just wasn’t as easy as it sounded in the recipe book. The onions were impossible to slice, the spices turned into a burned mess twice, and the chicken stuck to the pan.

“It’s not me, it’s the range. I can’t turn the temperature down,” protested Samira. “What are we going to do?”

“I have an idea. We can make it to Belfast and back if we’re quick,” said Justin. “Make sure you turn everything off before we leave.”