Authors: Sylvia Atkinson
My
Dear
Friend,
It
is
so
long
since
I
heard
from
you.
I
have
the
good
fortune
to
be
posted
here.
Please
intercede
with
your
brother
on
mine
and
the
children’s
behalf.
I
miss
them
dearly.
If
I
could
spend
a
few
days
with
them
either
here
or
at
Aakesh
I
will
be
forever
indebted
to
you.
Nainital
is
safe
even
though
news
of
the
Japanese
is
alarming.
Your
affectionate
sister,
Charuni
Suleka, who was staying at Aakesh because of her mother’s worsening health, wrote saying her own daughter was enjoying the company of the children, especially Rajeev, who was patience itself. Margaret didn’t want her son to grow up so quickly! There was no coded invitation to meet the children. On the contrary Suleka said,
.
.
.
the
atmosphere
in
the
house
is
most
uncomfortable.
I
do
not
think
that
things
go
well
for
my
dear
brother
and
his
new
wife.
She
is
not
happy
here
and
certainly
not
compliant.
I
fear
my
mother
and
Vartika
misjudged
the
whole
sorry
business.
It
appears
that
urged
on
by
Hiten
an
advertisement
was
placed
requesting
a
wife
for
a
widowed
army
officer
with
three
children.
My
mother
and
Vartika
then
sifted
through
the
candidates.
You
will
not
be
surprised
to
learn
that
many
families
wanted
to
introduce
their
daughter.
It
would
be
very
advantageous
to
have
the
family
name
with
all
its
connections.
Sandyia
was
chosen.
She
came
to
Delhi
the
last
time
you
saw
Pavia.
The
marriage
went
ahead
without
any
problems
but
it
is
clear
that
it
will
never
work.
My
brother
is
away
from
home
with
the
army.
He
was
last
in
the
Punjab
but
I
have
no
news
since.
I
miss
your
company
and
you
will
always
be
my
sister.
I
will
always
do
the
best
for
the
children.
They
are
much
loved
here
and
used
to
you
being
away.
I
do
not
think
that
they
realise
what
has
happened.
Let
us
hope
they
never
will.
Margaret needed no reminder of the agony of the last meeting with Pavia. Greed for money, land and power would surely be the undoing of Hiten and Vartika. For years they had continuously dripped their poisonous slander, exaggerating and manipulating whatever they could to defame her; pandering to Ben’s weakness, flattering and encouraging him to indulge himself. His agreement to their duplicitous plan, entrapping a woman into a bogus religious marriage, disgusted her. Margaret had mistaken Ben for a man of substance but his selfishness and infidelity destroyed those who truly loved him. She prayed that one day she would be avenged. Meanwhile it was safer to stay away.
* * * * *
Countless new faces blurred into those of Willie and Tommy. Margaret searched the lists of the wounded. The faith and energy of youth chipped away with every dying patient. In the day Margaret’s devotion to her patients was paramount but the nights off the ward were for oblivion. Locked inside herself she drank alone in the deserted mess, anaesthetising all feeling, getting through another day without her loved ones.
She arrived on night duty to a packed ward and another poor soul, legs covered in ulcers, shivering with fever under the mosquito net. She shone the night lamp towards his bed. It couldn’t be… “Tommy?”
“You’re all I want to see,” he said closing his fevered eyes.
Tommy was too ill to care when the American cargo plane had picked him up from Yunnan. The months spent undercover supporting the guerrilla activities of the Nationalist, Chinese army of Chiang Kai-Shek were gruelling. He’d seen and done terrible things. The rescue plane landed at some American base. He didn’t know where but he could smell India as soon as they opened the hold.
Somewhere along the way his old instructor, Mike Calvert, contacted him. Promoted to the rank of Brigadier with the Chindits, he was rooting for Tommy to join him. There was a vital job to be done and Tommy’s guerrilla experience with the Chinese equipped him to do it.
* * * * *
Tommy recovered slowly, walking Margaret to the hospital when she was on duty, waiting to collect her when the shift was over. He slept while she was at work. She slept hardly at all. Liberated from guilt, she expected no commitment from him other than friendship. She had grown up under Ben’s influence, a drug she couldn’t get out of her system, but the addiction was over. Tied to him by their children she pondered what she would do if he asked her to return. Fate had brought Tommy back into her life. He was everything honourable, but was that enough?
In the dense jungle, Tommy had seen planes swoop low, skim the tree tops, and climb high into the open sky. He fancied trying to join the dare-devil crew that flew in them. He played for time to make a decision. In any case he wanted to settle his future with Margaret; so far he’d skirted round it. He approached her cautiously, “When my girlfriend married that was it. I wasn’t looking for anyone. Don’t get me wrong… there’ve been plenty of women…”
“I don’t need to know that!” Margaret said wondering where this was leading.
“What I mean to say is… I don’t expect you to forget Ben… We’ve nothing to apologise for… our lives hold good memories as well as bad. I’ve rented a place for a few days and I want to spend them with you.”
* * * * *
The bungalow was orchestrated to provide a service much in demand. It came with a manservant who lit the oil lamps and made curry and rice before leaving. Being together in the evening without work or company was a novelty. Margaret sipped her drink. Tommy downed his, “Do you want to use the bathroom first?
“Yes please,” she said, undressing privately. She so wanted it to be perfect for Tommy but the map of silver stretch marks on her abdomen would forever be evidence of motherhood and past love. She covered them with the bed sheet. Tommy moved it aside exposing her body in the mellow light “Don’t be sad, Margaret. I want you as you are. We don’t need to pretend.”
They talked and caressed and when the moment came he made love to her, not with the selfish haste of a young man, but with experience that came from having lived life to the full. She responded with the generosity and wonder of a woman discovering the complexity of mature love.
On their last day Tommy gave her a battered parcel held together with fraying string and sealing wax, “I got this on my last mission.”
Margaret reverently peeled away layers of blood and mud-spattered paper. A creamy yellow silk kimono spilled out, eclipsing the sunlight streaming through the shutters. She slipped her arms through the wide sleeves.
“Dreaming of you wearing this kept me alive” Tommy said, tracing the embroidered flowers down Margaret’s back, sighing into her hair, “Marry me.” She pulled away. He said earnestly, “Don’t be afraid. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”
“But…”
“Hear me out. When this war is over I’ll stay in India. Together we can fight for your children.”
Delhi
April
to
November
1943
No sooner had the temperate spring weather brought flowers back to Nainital than Tommy disappeared and Margaret was sent to Delhi. After the happiness of being with him the loneliness intensified. Did fate control their destiny? Margaret didn’t know but the antidote to this misery lay in trying to take some control. She began divorce proceedings and wrote a desperate letter to Suleka,
My
Dearest
Sister
in
Law,
Do
not
think
the
worst
of
me.
I
am
put
to
one
side.
Ben
has
made
a
new
life.
I
must
make
a
home
in
India
and
fight
for
my
rightful
contact
with
Pavia
and
the
boys.
Please
encourage
them
to
write
to
me.
I
do
not
know
if
they
have
received
the
many
letters
I
have
sent
them.
Surely
Ben
has
not
prevented
them
from
replying.
I
beg
you
to
forward
an
address
for
me
to
write
direct
to
Pavia.
My
nursing
was
to
be
a
temporary
thing
to
help
with
the
war
effort.
Now
it
seems
to
be
all
I
have.