The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,67

patient waiting for you to make up your mind.’

Stella’s insides twisted. ‘I like Monty – I suppose I’m fond of him. But I’m not in love with him.’

Her mother looked disappointed. ‘Stella, I should tell you something. Monty came to see your father the week before he died – to ask his permission to marry you.’

Stella was winded by the news. ‘What did Pa say?’

‘He said he’d be very happy to give his permission – joyous was the word he used – but that the decision had to be yours.’

Stella’s eyes stung with tears. She could hear her father giving his blessing in his enthusiastic way. She felt wretched. Not only was her avoidance of marriage frustrating for Monty but it must have been worrying her father too, otherwise he would not have been so keen on giving his permission. He had never pressed her on the issue but secretly must have been hoping she would accept marriage to Monty.

Myrtle put a hand over Stella’s. ‘If you don’t want to marry Monty then you must put him out of his misery and tell him. It’s not fair to give him hope where there is none.’

Stella nodded in agreement.

Two days after this conversation, on the first day of September, news came through that forced domestic issues from Stella’s mind. Jimmy dashed into the bungalow as Stella and her mother were getting ready for bed.

‘I’ve just been listening to the wireless,’ he said, his face aghast. ‘The news from home is that the Germans have begun to invade Poland. Our government is sticking to their promise to help Poland – and so are the French.’

Stella asked anxiously, ‘What does that mean? What will happen?’

Jimmy said, ‘I don’t know, but they’re calling up our army and naval reserves.’

On the Sunday, they learnt the worst, when Chamberlain announced that an ultimatum given to Hitler that morning had been ignored and that Britain was at war with Germany. Late that night, the Duboises and the residents sat around the radio in the lobby under the cooling whir of the electric fans and tuned in to a broadcast by King George to his Commonwealth subjects.

The king spoke in his precise, sombre voice. ‘For the second time in the lives of most of us, we are at war.’

For the first time it began to dawn on Stella that this might not be some distant conflict between a handful of nations in Europe; all their lives were under threat. The king was exhorting his people – both at home and across the seas – to face the dark days ahead together and be ready for whatever service or sacrifice was demanded of them.

‘With God’s help we shall prevail.’

The speech ended. They sat in silence as Jimmy switched off the wireless. Then Fritwell stood up and began to clap. Others followed.

Jimmy ordered Sunil to pour out whiskies for all those who wanted one. Fritwell raised his glass and made a toast: ‘To the King and our Empire!’

The others chorused, ‘To King and Empire!’

Stella gazed around the dimly lit lobby and wondered what her father would have thought. Everything looked exactly as normal; the guests gathered for a final nightcap. Outside insects hummed and a night bird screeched. Someone rode past ringing their bicycle bell. Soon, everyone was dispersing and bidding each other goodnight.

By day, the routine of the hotel resumed as before, with Jimmy taking up his father’s role; by night, the residents gathered for the evening ritual of tuning into the news from London on All India Radio. The very next day after Britain and France had declared war on Germany, Viceroy Linlithgow had announced that India was at war with the Nazis too.

The news was sobering; Poland was being quickly overrun by fast-moving German Panzer divisions, and by the middle of September, the Soviets were invading from the east. The French had lost no time in attacking Germany in the west by marching over the border into the Saar.

Britain was on a war footing, but there was no talk of going to the rescue of the Poles. Merchant ships were being sunk at an alarming rate.

Fritwell complained, ‘All we seem to hear from the broadcaster-wallahs is depressing news of German successes.’

‘Will ships be able to get through to India from Britain?’ Hester asked anxiously.

‘Well, we appear to still be getting sea mail,’ said Ansom. ‘And airmail letters, for that matter.’

Prompted by her mother’s words, Stella sent a note to Monty asking to see him. It was time