Aubrey St. Clare talked rather knowledgeably about India, which he appeared to know very well. I gathered he was not connected with the regiment. I wondered what he was doing in India but felt it would be impertinent to ask. Mrs. Freeling took charge of the conversation. I thought she was rather flirtatious with her visitor, and I wondered whether I thought so because I was still under the influence of the Humberston rectory where everything was conducted in a most conventional manner.
At length I said I must go and Aubrey St. Clare immediately rose and asked if he might take me home.
It was only a short way, I told him.
“Nevertheless …” he began, and Mrs. Freeling added: “Oh yes, you should have an escort.”
I thanked her for her hospitality and left with Aubrey St. Clare.
As I came out of the bungalow I looked back and saw a flutter of curtains. Ayah was standing at the window. Did I imagine it or did she really look disturbed?
After that I saw a great deal of Aubrey St. Clare. I became fascinated and flattered because he paid so much attention to me. He was attentive to Phyllis Freeling, but that seemed different because she was married.
My father liked him and I think he was pleased for me to have an escort. I gathered that he would have preferred us to have been in England where I could have been launched into society in the conventional manner. He was eager for me to enjoy life and he regretted that he did not have more time to spend with me.
Aubrey was charming. He had a wonderful personality that could change and be different according to the people he was with.
With my father he was serious and talked about the problems of India; he told me about his travels round the world; he had been in Arabia; he had met people of many races; he found exploring different cultures fascinating and he had a vivid way of expressing himself; yet with Mrs. Freeling he could be extremely frivolous, being exactly the sort of man whom I was sure she would find attractive. It was a great gift.
He was becoming my constant companion. My father was ready to let me go into the bazaars with him, although I should not have been allowed to go by myself. Things were not quite what they had been when I was a child here, he told me. There were undercurrents of unrest. The regiment was on the alert.
Oh, nothing serious, he insisted. But the natives were unpredictable.
They did not reason in quite the same way as we did. Therefore he liked me to go where I wanted but in the company of a strong man.
They were pleasant days.
I saw my ayah several times, but she was always uneasy about my going to the Freeling bungalow. I suggested that she come to us. She did once or twice, but it was difficult for her to get away. I knew something was bothering her but I could not guess what; and to tell the truth I was so caught up in all that was going on, particularly with my new friend, that I did not pay as much attention to her as I would otherwise have done.
One day when we were in the garden under the apricot trees, one of the boys brought us a cooling drink and Aubrey said to me: “I shall have to be thinking of going home soon.”
I was dismayed. I had never thought of his leaving and I suddenly realized how much I had begun to depend on his companionship. I felt vaguely depressed.
“I have had grave news from home,” he went on.
“I am sorry.”
“So am I. It’s my brother my elder brother. He’s ill. In fact I believe he cannot live very long. It will make a great deal of difference to me.”
“You are very fond of him.”
“We have never been great friends. There are only two of us and we are so different. He inherited everything … quite a large estate.
Since he has no children I shall take over everything if he dies, which it now seems certain that he will before very long. I doubt he can last another year. “
“How distressing for you.”
“So … I should be there. Soon I shall have to be making plans to leave.”
“We shall miss you.”
He leaned towards me and, taking my hand, pressed it.
“I shall miss everyone … everything here … and particularly you.”
I felt excited. He had always implied that he admired me and I was aware of an attraction between us; but I felt myself to be such a novice in these matters and I was very uncertain of myself. All I knew was that I should be very sad when he went away.
He talked to me about his home. The estate was in Buckinghamshire. It had been in the family for centuries.
“My brother is very proud of it,” he said.
“I never had the same feeling for houses. I wanted to travel, to see the world. He wanted to absorb himself in squiral duties. If he dies it will fall on my shoulders. I am rather hoping my sister-in-law, Amelia, will have a son before he dies.”
“Is that likely now that he is so ill?”
“One never knows.”
“When shall you be going?”
“Rest assured I shall stay as long as I possibly can.”
When I was dining alone with my father that evening I mentioned to him that Aubrey would be leaving us soon.
“I’m sorry about that. You’ll miss him, won’t you?”
He was watching me intently, and I said with faint hesitation:
“Oh yes, very much.”
“Well, he might not be the only one who is leaving.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know there has been a lot of unrest here lately. Nothing serious, but a kind of undercurrent. And there is something you don’t know, Susanna. Two years ago I had an illness.”
“An illness! What sort of illness? You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want to make a fuss. It passed. But it did not go unnoticed by HQ.”
“Father, what are you telling me?”
“That Anno Domini is catching up with me.”
“But you are amazingly fit. Look what you do.”
“The fact remains, I am getting old. There are hints, Susanna.”
Hints? “
“I think that soon I shall be working at the War Office in London.”
“Do you really mean that? And what was this illness?”
“Some little trouble with the heart. It passed.”
“Oh, Father, and you didn’t tell me!”
“There was no need to when it was all over.”
“I should have been told.”
“Quite unnecessary. But, as I say, there will be changes here.”
“When shall we go home?”
“You know HQ. When the decision is made there will be no delay. It will be a case of up and gone, and the new chap will be here to take my place.”
“Oh, Father, how will you like it?”
“As a matter of fact, I shan’t be sorry.”
“But all the years you have been in India … and you let me come out.”
“I had a reason for that. I realized from your letters that you were building up a picture of the place. I believed that if you had not come you would have regretted it all your life. I wanted you to come back and see it with adult eyes. Besides, think how disappointed you would have been if you hadn’t.”
“You are so good to me.”
“Dear child, I felt there was so much to make up for. That lonely childhood … sending you off to strangers, which they were, of course, although related.”
“You did your best and it is what happens to all children in our position.”
“True, but that does not make it easier. But never mind motives. I am expecting orders at any moment and then it will be up and away. “
I was not entirely dismayed. I was already wondering whether I should see Aubrey in England.
That night in bed I thought about my ayah. I had neglected her somewhat. When I had come out I had thought with great pleasure of our reunion. But, as my father said, things change. I should never forget her and what we had been to each other in my childhood; but I was no longer a child. I was making exciting excursions into the adult world, and the feelings Aubrey inspired in me had so fascinated me that I had been inclined to forget other matters.
I promised myself that the very next day I would go to see her.
I chose a time when I knew Mrs. Freeling would be at the Regimental Club. She was often there. I had seen her with some of the young officers. She invited Aubrey there, too. He told me he went quite frequently. Moreover, I had seen him there with her. I felt no jealousy. It did not occur to me that there could be any serious relationship between them, because she was a married woman. I was very naive in those days.
My ayah was glad to see me and I felt ashamed because there had been too long a gap between our last meeting and this.
“The children are-asleep,” she said.
We sat in the next room with the door ajar so that she could hear if they awoke.
She looked at me with her sad eyes and I said: “You were right about my not staying long. My father has told me that any day he could be receiving orders from the War Office.”
“You will go away from here … yes. Perhaps it is best for you.”
“Ayah dear, I feel as though I have only just come.”
“There are bad things here. You are not a little girl any more.”
“There are bad things everywhere, I dare say.”
She shook her head. I took her hand and said: “You have something on your mind. Why don’t you tell me? You are not happy here.
I could ask my father to find you another place. “
She said: “I love the little ones.”
“And Mrs. Freeling and the Captain … they are not good to you? You can tell me, you know.”
“I am left with the children. The Captain loves them.”
“Then it is Mrs. Freeling? Does she interfere? Does she complain?”
She shook her head. She hesitated for a few seconds, then she burst out: “There are parties … meetings … they do strange things. I know what it is. They grow it in the villages. I have seen it … so much … when I was a little one. It grows well in India … so pretty it looks, with the poppies waving their heads … so innocent.
You would not believe it. It flourishes if the soil is fine and loose and fed with manure and much water. I have seen the sowing in November, and in January it is ready when the flower seeds are the size of a hen’s eggs. “
“What are you talking about?”
“They call it opium,” she told me.
“It is here … everywhere. Some sell it for money. Some grow it for themselves. They smoke it in their pipes, and they become strange … very strange.”
“Do you mean they are drugged? Tell me about it.”
“I must not. It is no concern of mine. I should not want my little one to be with such people.”
“You mean Mrs. Freeling …”
“Please forget I speak.”
“You mean here … there are parties … orgies. I must tell my father.”
“Oh no, no. Please do not. I should not have speak. I am wrong.
Forget. Please to forget. “
“How can I? They are smoking opium, you say. That should be stopped.”
She shook her head.
“No. No. It-has always been. Here in the villages it is so easy to grow. Please do not talk of it. Only do not go to these places. Do not let them tempt you to try.”
“Tempt me! Of course they never would. Ayah, are you sure?”
She shook her head.
“Not sure. Not all sure …”
“But you told me …”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. I believed that she was afraid and tried to soothe her.
“I have seen them here. They look strange. They seem strange. There is a man. He comes here often. He is the Devil Doctor. He wants opium. He buys it. He takes it away. He watches people and tempts them. I believe he is a devil.”
Oh, I thought with relief, she is romancing now.
“Tell me about this Devil Doctor,” I said.
“He is tall; his hair is black like the night. I saw him once. He wore a black cloak and a black hat.”
“He sounds satanic. Tell me, did he have cloven feet?”
“I believe so she said.
I breathed more easily. I remembered some of the stories with which she had beguiled me during my childhood: the exploits of the gods, Siva, Vishnu and Brahma in which she fervently believed. I did not take her stories seriously. Perhaps she had seen certain frivolous behaviour among Mrs. Freeling’s guests and had construed it as the manner in which people acted when they had been smoking opium; and her concern for me had made her exaggerate what she had seen. I did wonder whether I ought to mention to my father what she had said; but as she implored me not to, I put the matter from my mind. There was so much more to think of, because two weeks after my father had spoken to me, despatches came from London.
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