The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,12
was. Perhaps the betrayal by the other boys was harder to bear than George’s taunting? They had believed the bully rather than Andrew.
‘Well, the best thing now,’ said Stella, ‘is to look forward and not back. By next term you’ll be at a new school and starting again, making new friends where the Gotleys can’t spoil things.’
Andrew tore up a handful of grass. ‘What if there’re army children at Biscoe’s? Sons of officers in the Peshawar Rifles? Like Dad said, word can spread. Perhaps I should go to school much further away . . .’
Stella tried to be reassuring. ‘They were lies made up by George, why should anyone else care?’
‘George said his father told him,’ Andrew mumbled. ‘Kept saying it was all true.’
‘Well, who would you rather believe – your dad or the Gotleys?’
Andrew gave her a cautious smile. ‘Dad, of course.’
Stella stood up. ‘Come on; let’s go home. You’ve missed tiffin and must be ravenous. And it’s time you made it up with Esmie.’
Nodding, Andrew got to his feet. ‘Do I have to tell her what George said?’
‘Not if you don’t want to,’ said Stella.
‘I don’t,’ said Andrew forcefully.
For a moment, it struck Stella how like his father he looked with his hands plunged in his pockets, unruly dark hair falling into his eyes and his look stubborn.
Then he smiled, and the stern look vanished. ‘Thanks, Stella. I always feel better after talking to you.’
‘That’s what friends are for, Andy,’ she answered, smiling affectionately.
They set off down the marg, leading the pony between them, and Andrew began to talk about playing cricket.
Stella was relieved that his unhappy mood seemed to have passed.
Back at the hotel, Andrew apologised to Esmie and gave her an awkward hug. Esmie looked pleased, but quizzical. Stella slipped off to finish some sewing before Esmie could question her.
Chapter 6
The next day, cheered by the arrival of the ebullient hotel chef, Stella threw herself into helping Felix do an inventory of kitchen equipment and order ingredients for the following week. The first guests were due in a week’s time.
It was late in the afternoon as the Lomaxes and Stella were gathering for tea on the veranda that a chaprassy came running up the path.
‘But we’ve already had the dak for the day,’ Esmie said in surprise.
‘Looks like he’s got a telegram,’ said Tom, crossing to the steps.
Andrew was quicker and leapt down the stairs ahead of his father. Conversing with the Muslim chaprassy in Urdu, he returned, waving the brown envelope at Tom.
‘It’s for you, Dad.’ He handed it over and resumed throwing a cricket ball in the air and catching it.
The women looked at Tom a little anxiously. Tom tore open the envelope and read the message. His frown deepened.
‘Who’s it from?’ Esmie asked, going to his side.
Tom quickly stuffed it back in the envelope. ‘We’ll talk about it later.’
‘Tom!’ Esmie protested. ‘Is it bad news?’
Andrew stopped his ball-catching and looked suddenly afraid. ‘Nobody’s died, have they?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Tom said quickly.
‘Then what?’ Esmie pressed him. ‘You’re making us worried.’
Tom swallowed. ‘It’s from Lydia.’
‘My mother?’ Andrew asked. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Yes. Well, she’s concerned. She’s heard about you leaving Nicholson’s – Bishop must have wired her.’
Andrew’s face reddened. ‘Is she very cross?’ he mumbled.
Tom sighed. ‘Probably cross with me for not telling her myself.’ He handed the telegram to Esmie, who read it.
Stella couldn’t read her expression: was it fear or anger?
‘What does she say?’ Andrew turned the ball in his hands in agitation. ‘Am I allowed to read it?’
Esmie handed it back to Tom and said quietly, ‘Tell him, Tom.’
Tom’s jaw clenched as he stood, undecided. Finally, he said, ‘Your mother would like you to visit her for the summer.’
Andrew looked astonished. ‘In Scotland?’
His father nodded. ‘Yes, in Ebbsmouth.’
A look of relief crossed the boy’s face. ‘Well, that’s not bad news, is it?’
Tom and Esmie exchanged looks. ‘It’s not practicable,’ said Tom. ‘There’s the expense of the boat trips – even if you’d get a berth at this short notice.’
‘Wouldn’t Mother pay?’
‘Even if she did, you’d have to be back here by September to start school somewhere – and we couldn’t take you – the hotel’s just about to open.’
‘We couldn’t send you unaccompanied, Andy,’ said Esmie.
‘Stella could take me,’ he suggested, looking at her expectantly. ‘You’ve never been to Scotland, have you? We could go together.’
Stella felt a flutter of excitement at the idea, but she also felt caught in the middle. ‘I certainly couldn’t afford the voyage.’