She knew how timid Prithvi was, how she could never seem to take any decision without authority from someone else, and already her hope was fading.
‘I cannot disobey the doctor’s orders,’ Prithvi’s soft voice came from behind the door. ‘I am sorry, Miss Lily. But I hope you will be better soon. I must go now. He will be coming back soon.’
‘Prithvi, no – don’t go!’ But it was too late. It seemed so long since Lily had seen anyone, a friendly face she could trust, that she sank to her knees, sobbing. How was she ever to get out if everyone thought she was crazy and wouldn’t believe anything she said? Curled up, she wept for a time, feeling defeated. She got up to lie on the bed, but then stopped herself. She often fell asleep in the day, as if to escape from the long, dreary hours, but it stopped her from sleeping at night and if she was sleepless the nights seemed even longer than the days.
Instead she calmed herself and sat at her table, taking a piece of writing paper.
‘Dear Cosmo . . .’ The idea of writing to him strengthened her. She had been disturbed by all the news she had heard of him from Susan Fairford. What had happened to the sweet little chap she had known in Ambala, to turn him into the ungovernable boy the school was seeing? It made her sad, yet she could sense, somehow, his unhappiness, however little he said in his occasional scrawled notes to her. How he must have loathed England, the cold, grey days, after the brilliance of India, shut behind the dark school walls. And with no family, no Lily or Srimala to give him love and affection. Her heart ached for him and the ache in her today reached out to him. In her grief, he seemed to be the only person she had left. She wanted to send her reassurance to him even if she had no idea whether the letter would ever be posted. Surely the doctor would not deny her that?
‘I am still here in Mussoorie, in the hills,’ she wrote, ‘and it is very pretty here. You would like it. Not long ago your mother and father were staying here with Isadora and Srimala and some of the servants. I expect they told you. Isadora has learned to ride really quite well. Your father has another new Daimler and the same man who brought the first one came again to deliver it to him. Sam Ironside. You were very small last time he came but perhaps you remember that too?’
She stopped, sucking the end of her pen and gazing out over the hills, seeing nothing. All she could see, with a stab of terrible longing, over and over again, was Sam’s face that night when they had lain by the fire, the intense love in his eyes. And now, what did he feel or think of her. She wanted to write,
He’s the man I love . . . and now I’ve lost him, lost him forever . . .
She found a few other cheerful things to say to Cosmo, telling him she hoped he was working hard at his lessons and that he must try and be obedient and not get into trouble again.
‘I hope you remember me, Cozzy, and that I’ll see you again one day,’ she finished. ‘This letter comes with much love from your friend, Lily.’
In her neatest copperplate she addressed the envelope to his prep school. Writing the letter steadied her. She must be patient if she was going to get out of here. Sooner or later, her chance would come. He couldn’t keep her locked up here forever.
Dr McBride agreed to post Lily’s letter to Cosmo without any obstacle, but still more days passed and Lily had to hold on very hard to her hope of escape. Many times in the day she opened the windows and stood breathing in the fresh mountain air, stretching her body to keep supple and strong.
She tried to keep the day and night separate, but often sleep did not come at night. One night, when she had been in the room for three and a half weeks, she was particularly restless and unable to settle. The house was very quiet, something scuttling in the roof above her head, but otherwise, silence. She lost track of the time, but the silence almost seemed to make a sound of its own.
Lying on her back, she was aware that she felt slightly unwell, suddenly rather queasy.
I mustn’t give in to this, she thought. Any sign of illness worried her, as if it meant that she was surrendering to Dr McBride’s attempts to sicken her. I’m not ill, I’m perfectly well and I shall not let him make me ill . . . But the feeling did not go away. Lily plumped the pillow under her head and turned to lie on her side, closing her eyes. She must sleep, that would see it off.
A moment later, she heard a sound and her eyes snapped open, her heart banging hard. There was a sound outside the door. Someone was out there!
She sat up in the total darkness, listening with every fibre of her being. She wanted to light the candle but she was listening too intensely to move. She held her breath. No, she was not imagining it – someone was easing back the bolts, slowly, carefully, not the rough way the doctor did it, but softly, so as not to be discovered. The top bolt was eased free, then the bottom.
Lily leaped off the bed as the door opened, letting in a warm glow of candlelight. Standing in the doorway in her nightdress was Jane Brown.
‘Lily?’ She came hurriedly into the room and shut the door, turning to look at Lily with stern, troubled eyes. ‘Are you all right? We hear you have been very unwell.’
‘No!’ Lily went to her, grasping her arm urgently. ‘Please, for God’s sake, you’ve got to help me. He’s had me locked up in here and I don’t know why! I’m not ill – I never have been ill!’
Jane Brown’s eyes searched her face. ‘No, I can see. Mrs McBride sent me, to tell you the truth. She was quite sure you weren’t ill either.’
‘Miss Waters, are we awake?’
The brisk tap on the door was followed by the appearance of a white-veiled head. Lily’s eyes opened and she sat up groggily. Her bewilderment was plain in her face. Where was she? This small, bare room, the iron bedstead, the work-worn but bright-eyed face staring down at her. Of course, the convent!
‘Oh – good morning!’ Hurriedly she swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt a lurch of nausea as she did so.
‘Slept through the bell again – you are exhausted, aren’t you, dear!’ Sister Fidelis commented. ‘I suppose the last few days can’t have been easy for you. But you should be down at breakfast, and the laundry won’t wait, you know!’
‘I don’t usually sleep so heavily,’ Lily apologized, pulling her nightdress closed at the neck. She felt uncomfortably aware of her full-breasted body compared with Sister Fidelis’s, slim in its chaste attire. ‘I’m most terribly sorry. I really will try to do better.’
‘Not to worry!’ Sister Fidelis almost sang, making to depart again. ‘Just get yourself up and ready as fast as you can. There’s water in the jug.’ She turned at the door and peered at Lily. ‘Are you all right, dear?’
‘Yes!’ Lily fibbed. She felt dangerously close to being sick but didn’t want to be any more trouble. ‘Perfectly, thank you, Sister. I’ll be down in a few minutes.’
‘Right-oh.’
Immediately she’d gone, Lily ran to retch over the wash bowl and then sank groaning on the bed. She sipped some water, wondering at how deeply she’d been asleep when all around, from outside, came the sounds of the girls occupying St James’s School. This was one of Mussoorie’s many educational institutions and was run by Church of England sisters originally from an order in Oxfordshire, most of whom spoke in beautifully modulated English and gave off an air of cultured sensitivity, however mundane the tasks with which they were presented. The convent and school sat perched high above the valleys, with breathtaking views from almost every room.
Lily closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply. She felt better now, but what on earth was the matter with her? Sister Fidelis must be right, she realized. She was in a state of nerves after all that had happened over the past weeks. It was only now beginning to hit her how extreme and bizarre Dr McBride’s behaviour towards her had been.
That night, when Jane Brown released her from the room where she had been imprisoned for almost a month, she took Lily’s hand and led her like a child down the creaking stairs to her own quarters, where she locked the door behind them and hurried to light the lamp. Both of them then stood and smiled, exhaling with relief, then Lily, completely overwrought, burst into tears and was taken into Jane’s comforting, shawl-clad arms.
‘Oh, thank you for letting me out. I was beginning to think no one would ever come. He’s kept me locked in there all this time – he’s mad, I swear it . . .’ She sobbed for a moment, then drew back. ‘I expect I smell terrible . . .’
‘Not at all,’ Jane Brown said kindly. ‘Are you all right, Lily?’ Her eyes were wide with concern.
‘Yes. I am now. He just . . .’ Her tears came again. She realized how lonely and frightened and humiliated she had been.
‘We had no idea – not at first,’ Jane Brown said, taking Lily to the chair. ‘He told us you were ill, something really contagious, but then when it went on and on. And he was so peculiar about it, his behaviour . . . The man’s an absolute menace . . .’
The two women talked for a long time, through the night, sitting wrapped up in shawls and blankets near the unlit fire. Jane Brown described her increasing suspicion towards Dr McBride.
‘I’d leave tomorrow, if it weren’t that I feel for
her
.’ She nodded her head towards Muriel McBride’s room next door. ‘It’s taken me a long time to work it out. He’s always so gentle, so solicitous towards her. And whatever she’s done, she’s done it to herself, there’s no doubt. But it’s
because
of him, I know it!’ Her voice grew passionate. ‘He’s
caused
it somehow – he helped her to destroy herself and it’s so tragic to watch. She’s even admitted it to me, in a sort of way. But she’s too far gone now to do anything about it.’ Jane wiped her eyes, wearily.
‘She did warn me about you, to take care of you, I mean – several times, now I come to think about it.’ Her face darkened. ‘She must have sensed something. The man wants locking up himself, but what can we do? He’s such a smooth-talker, so well thought of. Mind you . . .’ She hesitated, blushing as she looked across at Lily. There was a hint of a smile on her lips.
‘What is it?’ Lily asked.
‘You should have seen him with that other doctor who was here, McCluskie. Two nights before he went back to Patna or wherever it was, he went missing – all night.’
‘Yes – he thought McCluskie was with me,’ Lily said candidly, and saw Jane Brown look really embarrassed. She realized then that even if the nurse had guessed perfectly well the full extent of Ewan McBride’s uses for her, she was certainly not used to talking about such things. ‘Where was he, then?’ she asked.
‘In a brothel.’ She brought out the words rather harshly, as if determined not to be coy. ‘They had a very loud argument about it when McCluskie came sloping back in the morning. Dr McBride couldn’t seem to control himself at all. You could hear him all over the house.’ Lily realized she, too, had heard the argument in the distance. ‘That’s the only time I’ve ever known the doctor let rip like that. He always likes to be so in command.’
There was a pause, then Jane Brown looked across at Lily with a sad puzzlement in her eyes.
‘Why have you let him use you like this, Lily? You seem such a strong person.’
It was Lily’s turn to blush, a deep sense of shame seeming to swamp her. How could she explain that in some way she felt this was what she deserved? But for the first time ever she tried to be frank with this woman who had rescued her.
‘I don’t know. I suppose he gave me a good job, security. My own background was rather poor, you see. I’d never been wanted by anyone much, or taken out and about like that before, and it didn’t seem too high a price, not then. I sort of slipped into it without meaning to and couldn’t get out again. I suppose that sounds terrible to you.’
When she looked up she saw Jane looking at her with real pity in her eyes.
‘Not terrible. Just sad. We must get you away from here, Lily. Even Muriel has asked me to get you away from here. I know where you can go – at least for the short term.’
Before dawn, Jane Brown dressed and they crept back to Lily’s room, where she also pulled some clothes on and packed a small bag of belongings before the two of them quietly let themselves out into the dark street.
‘It’s a good distance,’ Jane Brown said. ‘Over towards Happy Valley. We’ll have to wake one of the
jhampanis
when we get further away from here. But I should be able to get back in good time. Fidelis and I went to school together – only she was called Rosamund then.’
They found a rickshaw to take them some of the way, and climbed the last mile on foot up to St James’s, where Jane Brown knocked loudly on the heavy convent door. At last a sleepy looking
chowkidar
appeared and Jane Brown asked for Sister Fidelis.
‘Please tell her Miss Brown is here, and it is an emergency.’
Lily stood feeling very nervous at the idea of rousing the nuns in this awesome-looking place at this time in the morning, but Sister Fidelis appeared, already dressed and carrying an oil lamp, in the light of which she looked remarkably cheerful.
‘Miss Waters urgently needs a discreet place to stay,’ Jane Brown told her. Lily blushed, suspecting that Sister Fidelis would immediately jump to the conclusion that she was carrying an illegitimate baby. But the woman’s expression did not change, nor did she ask any questions.
‘Come in,’ she said, with a welcoming sweep of her arm. ‘Are you capable of helping with the laundry, d’you think?’