The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,80

to McSween and Watson’s in Calcutta.

Chapter 27

Ebbsmouth, October 1940

The country had been braced for invasion since the summer. Andrew’s machine-gun company was on constant alert along the Berwickshire coastline. The beaches were bristling with rows of barbed wire defences and hastily positioned concrete tank traps. Crouched in dank pillboxes, their guns pointing through narrow loopholes, they watched out for enemy ships. Now that Norway had fallen to the Nazis, it seemed a matter of time before an invasion across the North Sea began.

There had been damaging air raids on Edinburgh and its port of Leith in late September. One clear night, Andrew had seen the sky glowing to the north and knew that the docks were aflame from incendiary bombs. The sky had filled with the scream and flash of anti-aircraft fire as the Scottish units retaliated. The toll of merchantmen sunk was rising weekly. Yet the invasion did not come.

Andrew snatched a welcome two days’ leave and went back home. Lydia was ecstatic to see him.

After he’d helped her get his grandmother to bed, Lydia settled him by the fire with a glass of port. His mother was obviously managing to find something in her father’s cellar to drink.

‘At least I have one of my boys home,’ she said with a contended sigh.

‘Where is Uncle Dickie?’ Andrew asked.

‘London. Something in intelligence, I think. Not that he’s allowed to say what he’s doing. I’ve been terribly worried about him with all this awful blitz on London.’

Andrew grew drowsy by the fire and found it comforting just to listen to his mother gossiping without interruption.

Having rung Felicity and made plans to see her at teatime, Andrew cycled over to his aunt’s while his mother had her hair done. Tibby shrieked in delight and kissed him on both cheeks.

‘I’m just on my way out to deliver these vegetables to the old folks,’ she told him.

‘Let me help you,’ said Andrew.

‘No, you go and see Dawan. He’s missing male company. Walter’s been called up and Mac’s gone home to Greentoun to look after his mother as both his brothers are now in the forces. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

Andrew found Dawan in the library sewing by hand. He quickly abandoned the work to greet Andrew.

‘Your aunt is teaching me to mend clothes,’ he said bashfully.

‘Gandhi would be proud of you,’ Andrew said in amusement. ‘We army boys know how to sew on buttons too, you know.’

They sat by the fire and had a few minutes catching up about Walter and Mac leaving and the general war situation. But without Tibby there to complain about them talking politics, it wasn’t long before they were having a robust conversation about the political situation in India.

‘I think Congress is missing a trick in not supporting the war effort,’ said Andrew. ‘It won’t do them any favours in the future when it comes to wanting more self-rule.’

Dawan waved his hands. ‘They offered to do just that but the Britisher government turned them down. Wouldn’t even consider independence.’

‘Maybe not independence,’ said Andrew, ‘but they could have asked for something lesser, like home rule. It just seems petty to resign all their positions on the provincial governments.’

‘You are looking at it through the eyes of a Scotsman,’ Dawan said dismissively. ‘You have forgotten how to look with Indian eyes.’

Andrew was wounded by the remark but could hardly deny it. His time in India seemed like a remote dream – vivid but no longer part of his life.

‘Who’s got Indian eyes?’ Unexpectedly, Felicity bounded into the room, pulling off her hat and patting at her neat fair hair.

‘Not me, apparently,’ said Andrew, leaping to his feet. ‘This is a nice surprise.’ He kissed her cold pink cheek.

‘I think you have gorgeous eyes,’ said Felicity, kissing him on the lips.

‘And have I ever told you how alluring you look in uniform?’

Felicity laughed. ‘Yes, often.’ She turned to Dawan. ‘Hello, Mr Lal. I hope you don’t mind me barging in on your cosy chat. But I haven’t seen Andrew for weeks.’

‘Of course not, Miss Douglas.’ Dawan gave a gracious nod.

‘So did Mamma tell you I was here?’ Andrew asked.

‘No, I bumped into Tibby distributing cauliflowers to the old folk up the lane. She told me where to find you. I’m not sure your mother would have.’ Felicity laughed.

Dawan made for the door. ‘Let me leave you lovebirds alone. Tell Tibby I’ll be in the studio.’

As soon as he was gone, Felicity pushed Andrew back onto the sofa, sat on