The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,54
your grandmamma to see your Aunt Grace in Switzerland – Mummy loves it there – and you’ve never met your Swiss cousins. It’ll be a big family holiday – your Templeton family for once. But if you’ve made up your mind, I won’t stand in your way—’ She’d fumbled for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.
‘Please don’t cry, Mamma.’ He’d patted her shoulder. ‘I can go to India next year. I’d like to meet Aunt Grace and the cousins. It’s just . . .’
‘Just what?’
‘Well, I’ve half-promised Noel that he could come with me to India. He’s mad keen to visit and has been reading about the Mutiny and the Indian Army and—’ Just in time, he’d stopped himself from adding that Noel wished to meet Andrew’s dad so he could ask him all about the Peshawar Rifles.
His mother had looked aghast. ‘Honestly, Andrew! You shouldn’t have made such promises!’
‘Sorry.’
She’d relented a little. ‘Noel can come with us to Switzerland. I’m sure Grace won’t mind.’
Andrew had brightened. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course! The more the merrier.’ She’d smoothed back his uncombed hair. ‘Oh, darling! We’ll have such fun.’
Andrew had managed to mask his deep disappointment at not being able to return to Pindi and Kashmir. But Noel had leapt at the chance to visit Switzerland, and Andrew began to look forward to the summer break.
He looked at the half-written letter to Stella and sighed. He kept a photograph of her in his tuckbox which had been taken on the beach at Ebbsmouth by Noel’s grandfather on his Box Brownie. It showed Stella in her swimming costume, her arms draped over his and Noel’s shoulders, grinning at the camera. The photo – as well as receiving letters from an older girl – gave him kudos with the other boys in his house and on the cricket team. He’d told Stella to write directly to him at school – partly so he could show off her letters, but also because he suspected his mother had opened some of his home post and not sent it on.
He had never admitted to anyone his feelings for the Dubois girl. Her photograph was like a talisman. Whenever he was feeling homesick for India, he’d slip Stella’s image into his pocket and carry it with him, kissing her goodnight after the dormitory lights were turned out.
Refilling his pen with fresh ink, Andrew decided not to tell Stella that he wouldn’t be seeing her – or Gulmarg – this summer. That was something he was going to have to put in a letter to his father; a letter he kept putting off writing.
The Langleys are well. Noel sends his regards. Mamma and Grandmamma are going to come and watch me play cricket on Saturday. Please give my best wishes to your parents and Jimmy – and to all the friends at the Raj.
Love from Andy
September 1934
Dear Andy,
I was really happy to get a birthday card from you.
We were all sad that you didn’t come out to India this summer but I hope you enjoyed your holiday in Switzerland. Were the Alps as beautiful as the mountains in Kashmir? Did you and Noel spend the time walking and climbing? Fishing perhaps? Your dad still goes off fishing – though I know he misses taking you with him.
Stella broke off. Maybe she would ink over that last line. She didn’t want Andrew to feel guilty about not coming home for the holidays.
It was nearing the end of the season at The Raj-in-the-Hills and she would soon be travelling back to Pindi. She wouldn’t tell Andrew that things were strained between Tom and Esmie. Stella was worried about them. So far, Lydia had not kept her promise to instigate divorce proceedings against Tom.
‘Why did I ever believe she’d stick to her side of the bargain?’ Tom had fulminated. ‘Under Scottish law she can divorce me for desertion. We don’t even have to resort to adultery as a reason.’
‘I don’t see why you won’t divorce her!’ Esmie said, her patience snapping.
‘Because it wouldn’t be the gentlemanly thing,’ Tom had said in agitation. ‘And I’d have to go to Edinburgh to do so. We can’t afford it.’
‘We could scrape the fare together, surely? Then we could see Andy – and visit my Aunt Isobel.’
‘But it could take months – maybe a year. We can’t leave the business for that long.’
‘The Duboises could cope with both hotels—’
‘They shouldn’t have to! I’m not leaving Gulmarg. I’ll write again to Lydia and make her see sense.’