Authors: Sylvia Atkinson
She couldn’t let him walk away and agreed he could contact her through the army, making it plain they could only be friends. They shook hands at the door of Barum Cottage. Margaret was ashamed to admit she wanted more.
A
fleeting
return
to
Aakesh
Margaret thought the infrequency of Ben’s letters was
caused by the war but the tone had changed. Surely he
couldn’t have found out about Tommy? It was a friendship
but the kiss… Ben couldn’t possibly know its effect.
Cut off from the children, Margaret wrote regularly to Suleka and Ben’s mother asking for news of them. She also sent advice for the care of the animals, work in the fields and maintenance of the English House. Suleka replied briefly saying that the children were in good health and getting on with their studies at home.
A letter from Ben asking Margaret to sort out the children’s formal education quelled any worries. She was to search out prestigious schools for Pavia and Saurabh. High ranking British and Indians frequenting Nainital were rich enough to pay and the schools reflected this.
Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She’d bring the three
children here! She was baffled by Ben’s other suggestion, that she qualify as a nurse once the older children were settled in school.
It couldn’t have been more opportune. Margaret was due some leave and had a trunk ready packed with
presents, sweets for the children, and a warm winter coat
for her mother-in-law, tea for Suleka and token gifts for
everyone else. She threw in a copy of bank transactions at
the last minute for Hiten’s scrutiny.
* * * * *
Pavia and Saurabh competed to be near their mother, pushing each other out of the way until she made them stop. Little Rajeev appeared slightly confused. Poor thing, Margaret wasn’t certain he knew who she was. She bowed to pay respect to Ben’s mother who neatly side-stepped on the pretext of talking to a servant. The attendant was shocked by the rebuff. The Memsahib’s kindness and generosity were well known. He valued his position so his face portrayed nothing. Neither did Margaret’s.
Hiten, bolstered by his mother-in-law’s actions, accused Margaret of discrepancies in the accounts. There had been another letter from the magistrate! He could find no record of the fine being paid. Was it because she intended to continue ruining the family name? He’d written to Ben.
“You have no right!”
“I have every right. Vidyaaranya, or as
you
call him Ben, has given me power of attorney. After all I am a lawyer. Long before you arrived I was running the family finances.”
“Still you should have written to me, not my husband.”
“Write to you! May the Gods forbid that I am answerable to you! There are many changes in the arrangements for the estates. The common people attending the animals remain. The servants in this main house obey our respected mother’s instructions.”
“And in the English House?”
“Dismissed…” He said cynically, “All is agreed. We need to use money wisely if the children are to be educated.”
Margaret was livid. On the surface it seemed a reasonable proposition but what if this boldness meant Hiten knew of some weakening in Ben’s affection? It was too awful to contemplate.
Rajeev edged his older brother out of the way, snuggling close sing-songing “Mama, mama…” Margaret took him by the hand and, leaving the meal uneaten, with her older children following, withdrew to the English House.
The red and black tiled entrance was dull and neglected. Cobwebs crisscrossed the corners of the rooms. Dried curled leaves carpeted the floor, blown in where a shutter hung open. Rajeev watched Pavia and Saurabh kick their way through the piles of leaves filling the air with dust.
Margaret went through the rooms. Drawers were half opened, their contents rifled through. There didn’t appear to be anything missing. This wasn’t the work of djinns or the petty theft of disgruntled servants. It was much more menacing than that. Thank goodness Muni was out of this. The English House was being left to decay and in this climate would quickly become uninhabitable.
Saurabh checked under his bed. His boxes of toy soldiers were where he’d left them. He was quickly engrossed in lining them up to fight.
Pavia’s room was also undisturbed. She blew the dust off the book cover of the
Naughtiest
Girl
, sent by her Aunt Jean, and settled down with it like a forgotten friend.
Later, with the children sleeping beside her in the marital bed, Margaret tried to put her emotions to one side. One night in Aakesh was enough. She couldn’t stay. There was no hint in Ben’s letters of what awaited her. Did he know, or was this the way he intended her to find out? Either way Hiten’s control was established with or without Ben’s consent. Powdered glass in her food could be his next move.
Rajeev’s curls and Pavia’s long hair were entwined on the pillow, one black the other brown. Saurabh sprawled across the bed. Independent and proud even in sleep; so like his father.
And Tommy, where did he fit in? The children would always be first and what ever the state of her marriage she must keep them close while their father was out of the country. Schooling provided the perfect excuse. Hiten couldn’t object to that. She’d show him Ben’s letter, say they had places, drop a few names and tell him her leave expired at midnight. She fell to sleep making lists of things to take to Nainital in the morning.
Nainital
A suitable elitist school was no problem but Barum cottage proved too small to house an extra child, servants and provide adequate space for study. Margaret found the ideal bungalow in its own ground on a hillside overlooking the town. On such a peaceful morning it was difficult to believe the disruption facing India. Margaret opened the
Times
. Gandhi was grabbing the headlines again. He had been arrested with other national leaders the day after Congress passed the ‘Quit India’ resolution and, since then, held in Aga Khan Palace Jail. The article went on to say that he was fasting in protest at the British occupation. Didn’t he know there was a war on? Indian troops were dying in defence of the very country he was trying to break away from. Margaret shook the paper and turned the page, searching for news of the North African campaign.
Ben’s dutiful letters were short and business like. It was hurtful but she was confident they would work things out when he returned to India. He mentioned Tobruk, El Alamein and fighting Italians. He’d been decorated but didn’t say what for. She’d have liked to have had more details to tell the children. She was always talking to them about their father, preparing them for his return. Margaret prayed he was safe but after such a long separation Ben was no longer the focus of everyday life.
Events closer to home were more worrying. The Japanese had swept through Asia taking Singapore, forcing the British to withdraw from Burma. The entire East was imperilled. In the tranquil garden, with the children in school and Rajeev playing, war seemed so far away. Tommy was in the thick of it. She wouldn’t know if he lived or died but couldn’t forget him.
She casually opened a hand-delivered letter brought by the houseboy. It contained a summons to attend the Magistrates court. A British woman enrolling children in a prestigious school was a regular occurrence but a British woman alone, with an Indian husband, was bound to arouse interest. Someone had capitalized on it.
British men who took Indian mistresses were viewed as rather risqué but it was socially acceptable, provided they were discrete. Legitimate marriage was rare and so far Margaret hadn’t come across another British woman married to an Indian. The injustice and hypocrisy in both societies always made her angry. She took up her pen and wrote to the District Commissioner.
Dear
Sir,
I
request
your
just
intervention
in
a
decree
issued
against
me
some
years
ago.
My
husband,
Captain
Atrey,
is
on
active
service
in
the
Middle
East
and
has
been
away
from
India
for
a
number
of
years
without
leave.
At
his
request
I
have
been
working
as
a
volunteer
helping
to
nurse
the
British
troops
recuperating
here,
travelling
between
Nainital
and
Aakesh
the
family
home.
At
present
my
children
accompany
me
and
are
in
school.
I
am
being
harassed
for
the
non-payment
of
a
fine
of
25
rupees
in
connection
with
an
allegation
that
some
years
ago,
I
cantered
on
a
horse
down
Mall
Road
breaking
a
byelaw.
I
considered
the
fine
to
be
excessive
and
intended
to
write
to
you
at
that
time.
However
I
had
to
return
urgently
to
the
plains
and
the
incident
slipped
my
mind.
I
recently
returned
to
put
my
children
into
school
and
resume
my
work
as
a
volunteer
nurse.
The
complainant,
a
Mr
Mehte,
has
exaggerated
an
incident
when,
as
a
novice
rider,
I
returned
by
horseback
to
Barum
Cottage,
which,
as
no
doubt
you
are
aware,
is
situated
on
Mall
road.
Taking
into
consideration
the
number
of
people
who
do
go
very
recklessly
on
horseback,
I
consider
it
most
unfair
that
I
have
been
picked
out
from
the
crowd.
I
wish
you
to
take
account
of
my
husband’s
services
and
those
of
myself
in
the
W.V.S
and
accept
my
apology.
I
thank
you
for
what
I
am
sure
will
be
your
worthy
consideration
of
my
position
with
regards
to
this
unfortunate
incident.