Keating?’
‘Yes. I’ve not replied to him until now. I’m telling him that I’m breaking off our engagement.’ Even as she said it, she felt a twist of regret. ‘And I’ve told him not to contact me again.’
‘Brave lassie,’ said Esmie in approval. ‘You’re doing the right thing.’
‘And I want you to sell this.’ She held out the sapphire engagement ring. ‘Use the money to buy clothes and things for Belle. It’s the least he can do for his daughter.’
Stella felt a lump in her throat at the sight of Tom clutching Belle protectively, his careworn face softened in love. It was both touching and devastating. It struck her how Belle’s real father would never have held her like that or talked to her as if she were precious to him. Stella wondered if Tom gazed at Belle and thought about the baby from his first marriage – Amelia – who had died soon after birth. Perhaps, after all these years, Belle could bring comfort to Tom’s grieving heart, as well as happiness and peace of mind.
‘I think Gabina should come as soon as she can,’ Stella said, digging her nails into her palms to stop herself crying. ‘And that we should begin bottle-feeding the baby.’
Esmie said in concern. ‘Stella, are you all right?’
‘Then I can move into the hotel and help when the first guests arrive. That’s if you’re happy for me to stay on for the season. I don’t feel ready to go back to Pindi yet.’
‘Of course we are,’ said Tom at once.
‘Dear lassie,’ said Esmie. ‘Only if you think you can manage it – if it won’t be too hard for you with Belle around . . .’
Stella swallowed. ‘I can manage. But I think it will be better if I’m kept busy at the hotel and no longer live in the annex.’
Esmie nodded. ‘I understand.’
For all her brave words, Stella found being separated from Belle excruciating. Within a week, Gabina arrived from Srinagar and took over her duties as Belle’s ayah.
Gabina was twenty-three, cheerful and efficient, and took to Belle at once. Stella remembered a young Gabina following her adoringly around The Raj Hotel.
‘I was like your shadow,’ Gabina laughed as they reminisced. ‘I wanted to do everything you did – and you were so patient with me. Do you remember the dolls we both had and you insisted on giving me yours to keep? I’ve brought them for baby Lomax.’
To Stella’s astonishment, Gabina produced two rather worn rag dolls with dark plaits, one in a crimson sari and the other in a faded green salwar kameez. They’d been presents from Esmie one Christmas.
‘Fancy you still having them! I’d long forgotten about those dolls.’
For the first few days, Stella stayed on in the annex while her milk dried up. Although it was Esmie who gave Gabina her instructions, the young woman was quick to see Stella’s bond with the baby and the pain she was going through. Stella hadn’t expected such soreness in her breasts as they continued to fill up with milk. It was Gabina who suggested that Stella bind them up in rolls of bandages.
‘I understand the situation,’ Gabina said with a compassionate look. ‘I will help swaddle you and then you will feel relief.’
Stella was alarmed that she had guessed so easily. ‘You mustn’t tell anyone. The baby belongs to the Lomaxes now.’
‘On my word, Stella-Mem’, I will tell no one.’
The binding brought temporary relief, but at night Stella lay unable to get comfortable, yearning to suckle her baby. It was torture to hear Belle crying in the next room and know that it was not her place to comfort her, listening out for Gabina’s crooning and soothing words.
Once the swelling had gone down, Stella moved into the hotel and immersed herself in making the place ready for guests, taking bookings, putting up newly washed curtains, helping the Lomaxes with supervising new staff, ordering supplies and planning menus.
Steeling herself, Stella put in a call to her mother. She assured her that although her engagement to Hugh was over, she was fine. Stella was grateful that her mother accepted her words without a stream of questions.
‘Keep busy, my dearest,’ Myrtle advised. ‘It’s the best way to get through difficult times.’
Chapter 44
North West Frontier, July 1942
Andrew, drenched in sweat, crouched as still as possible behind a piquet wall of boulders and rubble. Perspiration ran under his pith helmet into his eyes. The sun beat down relentlessly in a cloudless sky, and the glare from the