I’ve written to explain.’
In some ways, it would be easier not to return to Gulmarg and be confronted with seeing Belle every day while not being able to mother her. Going to work somewhere with no associations with Belle or the Lomaxes would be easier in the long run.
After that, things moved swiftly. By mid-December she had been given her posting. Stella was slightly stunned to find she was being sent to New Delhi as secretary to a conservator of forests who had been seconded to the Defence Department as an inspector of gun carriages. It sounded a very responsible position, on top of which Delhi lay over four hundred miles and a long train journey away.
‘His name’s Major Maclagan,’ Stella told her family, ‘and he used to work in Lahore before the war, so at least we’ll be able to talk about the Punjab. He’s going to be away in Bombay for Christmas, so they’ve agreed I can spend Christmas here and then travel down to Delhi before the end of the year.’
‘What does inspecting gun carriages mean?’ Yvonne asked curiously.
Stella shrugged. ‘Something to do with the timber used to make them, I think. I don’t imagine I’ll need to know more than how to spell the names of the trees used.’
‘Well, you’ll be good at that,’ said Jimmy. ‘You’ve always been happiest among the trees and plants of Kashmir, haven’t you?’
Stella gave him a grateful look. ‘I’m going to miss you all so much though.’
‘We’ll miss you too,’ said Yvonne with a sad smile. ‘But it won’t be forever.’
On Boxing Day, the Duboises went round to Auntie Rose and Uncle Toby’s flat in Lalkutri for the traditional Dixon all-day party. There was a false heartiness to the Dixons’ welcome and Stella knew it was because they were trying to mask their worry over their eldest son Rick, who was rumoured to be flying military supplies over the Arakan.
‘They say that the British are getting bogged down in the jungle,’ said Clive, ‘and that only the Indian Air Force is saving them from defeat.’
‘I don’t know where you get such tales from,’ Auntie Rose exclaimed to her son-in-law. ‘That’s anti-British propaganda.’
‘Yes,’ Auntie Lucinda agreed. ‘I’d heard the Japanese pilots are so short-sighted they need three pairs of spectacles to see. So fit young men like Rick will defeat them every time.’
Cousin Sigmund snorted in disbelief. ‘Auntie! That’s nonsense. The Japs have proved themselves deadly in the air from China to Burma.’
‘Let’s not argue today,’ Ada intervened. ‘Stella will be leaving us soon too, so let’s just be happy the rest of us are all here together.’
Stella hid her concern at Clive’s gloomy words – she too had picked up rumours from a WAC friend who worked in the telegraph exchange that the conflict in the Arakan was not going well.
But there was no point in dwelling on it. This would be her last family party for the foreseeable future and she was going to make the most of it. She went to chat to her cousin Lucy who was hopeful that Monty might get leave soon; she hadn’t seen her fiancé for over a year and a half.
‘But his last letter hinted he’d soon be leaving the desert behind,’ Lucy said, her eyes shining. ‘I just want him home long enough to get married!’
‘I’m sure he will if he possibly can,’ said Stella with a smile of reassurance.
Stella was distracted from their conversation by baby June, who was red-cheeked and grizzling. Bracing herself, she went over and took her from Ada’s arms.
‘She’s teething,’ said Ada, ‘and keeping us up all night.’
‘Party girl,’ said Stella, smiling.
She settled the fretful infant in the crook of her arm and pressed the knuckle of her little finger between June’s hot gums. June bit down with surprising strength. Stella’s chest tightened to think of Esmie or Gabina doing the same for Belle. She walked around the room, bouncing her gently in her arms and whispering rhymes in her ear while all around them was chatter and laughter.
Gradually the baby’s whimpering eased and her eyelids grew heavy. Stella was struck by how long and beautiful her eyelashes were against her creamy skin. She bent and kissed June’s hot cheek and then handed her back to Ada.
The cousins exchanged a long look.
‘You’re a natural mother,’ said Ada with a quizzical smile.
Stella felt herself blushing. ‘Plenty of practice with my nephew,’ she answered.
A moment later, Sigmund was thrusting a drink into her hand and asking her about