of the month she would be returning to Rawalpindi and would not see Belle until the following hot season.
The thought of being separated from her was like a physical pain, as if weights had been pressed on her heart. She would miss eight months of Belle’s growing up; she wouldn’t be there for her first birthday in March, and by May her daughter might be walking and saying her first words. Stella knew how thrilled Esmie would be to hear Belle say ‘Ma-ma’ for the first time.
Stella’s eyes smarted. Esmie loved Belle like her own daughter – as Stella had hoped she would – and Stella wondered if sometimes Esmie forgot that she wasn’t the baby’s real mother. It was Tom who often looked guiltily at Stella when she visited the annex and was quick to hand over Belle for a cuddle. But then Tom knew what it was like to lose a baby girl and perhaps he viewed the situation differently. Even though it had been Stella’s choice to give up Belle, both she and Tom had suffered a loss that could not be put into words.
As Stella watched now, Tom lifted Belle from the playpen and raised her up high. Belle shrieked with alarm and laughter. Tom did it again, pretending to drop her on the way down and then cuddling her to his chest.
‘Tom, don’t!’ Esmie laughed in mock admonition, moving closer.
Tom put his arm about his wife and held them both. He kissed Esmie’s head and then Belle’s.
Blinded by tears, Stella turned away from the window and went back to her paperwork.
One afternoon a few days later, her brother Jimmy rang from The Raj Hotel with a message for Stella. The line was crackly and she had to press the receiver to her ear to hear him.
‘What’s that about Mrs Shankley?’ she asked anxiously.
Jimmy shouted down the phone, ‘She had a fall a week ago and hasn’t got out of bed since. She’s failing fast . . . Asking to see you . . . Might not be long in this . . .’ His words broke up again. Stella didn’t know if he’d said that the old missionary wouldn’t be long in the hotel, or in the world.
‘Oh, that’s terrible!’ Stella said in distress.
‘Will you come?’ Jimmy bellowed. ‘. . . agitated . . . keeps saying your name.’
‘Yes, of course I’ll come,’ said Stella at once.
As soon as the Lomaxes heard about Winfred Shankley’s request they were supportive.
‘Of course you must go,’ said Esmie. ‘Don’t wait till the end of the month – she might not last. Jimmy wouldn’t have rung if it wasn’t urgent.’
Within two days, travel arrangements had been made for four days’ time.
Those final days in Gulmarg were precious and bittersweet for Stella. She went more often to the annex to look in on Belle and Gabina. The ayah was quick to hand Belle into her arms.
On the final morning, Stella slipped out of the hotel before dawn and went around to the annex and Belle’s room. The baby was stirring and Gabina was heating up a bottle of milk. Stella didn’t need to ask; the ayah handed over the bottle.
‘I have to sort some of the baby’s laundry, Stella-Mem’,’ she said, and left the room.
Stella sat in the nursing chair where she had first suckled Belle and fed the bottle to the baby. Belle fixed her with a trusting look in her blue eyes as she gulped the milk and wrapped her small fist around Stella’s finger. It always amazed Stella how strong a grip her daughter had.
‘I have to go away for a while,’ Stella spoke softly to her. ‘I don’t want to leave you – I’ll never truly leave you, my darling girl – as you’ll always be in my heart. And Mummy Esmie and Ayah Gabina will look after you for me – and Daddy Tom will play with you. You bring them such joy, my little one – you have no idea how much.’
Stella cradled the baby tightly and kissed the top of her head. Belle paused from her sucking and her face creased in a milky smile. It took Stella’s breath away. A sob rose in her chest. She sat the baby up and rubbed her back, trying to keep her tears at bay. How could she possibly leave her? It felt as if her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.
Stella wiped at the tears streaming down her face and continued the bottle-feeding. Eventually,