The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,17

11th June, a sleepy Ada and a smiling Felix waving them off from the hotel steps. Esmie and Bijal (and Frisky the dog) were going as far as Rawalpindi; Tom was travelling with them to Bombay and seeing them onto the ship.

At the Raj, Charlie and Myrtle fussed over their daughter, nervous and proud that she had been chosen to escort Andrew to Scotland. Charlie had been reassured that Stella was to be chaperoned by a middle-aged governess who was returning to England.

At the station, as Stella hugged and kissed her family, she noticed Esmie giving Andrew an emotional goodbye.

‘Take care of yourself, my darling boy,’ she said, her eyes welling with tears.

Andrew grabbed his stepmother in a tight hug. ‘I’ll miss you, Meemee.’

Esmie’s face crumpled. Neither of them could say any more. Tom guided Andrew quickly on board. Stella hugged Esmie and said, ‘I’ll look after him, I promise.’

Esmie gave a tearful smile. ‘I know you will. Just bring him back safely.’

After stopping briefly in hot and hectic Lahore to collect their passports, two days after leaving Rawalpindi they were standing in the broiling heat on the Bombay quayside amid the chaotic jostling of porters and travellers. The great hulk of the SS Rajputana loomed above them. Coolies ran up gangplanks, sweating under the burden of heavy trunks, while cargo was being winched over the ship’s side. Their luggage had already been taken on board. Stella saw a topee-wearing young man with a bandaged leg being stretchered on. He was putting on a brave face and winked at her as he went by.

Stella was suddenly nervous, her brow perspiring under her summer hat. They were to have met their chaperone, Miss Jessop, in the embarkation hall, but she’d left a note to say she would meet them on the ship.

Tom was fretting. ‘I really would like to have met her before you leave. Esmie will want to know – and what shall I tell Charlie?’

‘I’m sure she’ll be as proper and upstanding as her advert described her,’ said Stella. ‘Being old, she probably wants to get out of the heat.’

‘I suppose so,’ Tom said, running a finger under his collar.

‘Stella will look after me,’ said Andrew. ‘We don’t need some battleaxe governess to tell us what to do.’

A flicker of a smile crossed Tom’s face. ‘I know Stella’s perfectly capable – but I just wanted to keep Charlie and Myrtle happy. We parents worry about our children whatever age you are.’

The three stood together watching people embark, Andrew biting on his fingernails. Stella knew both father and son were reluctant to say their goodbyes.

‘I think we’d better get on board,’ she suggested gently. ‘Thank you for bringing us, Mr Lomax – thank you for everything.’

Tom nodded. He turned to his son and cleared his throat. ‘Andy, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened at Nicholson’s and I’m sorry you’ve ended up having to leave because of it. I feel responsible – given that you were defending my reputation.’ He put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. ‘Someday we’ll talk about it – when you’re older – there are things I should explain . . .’

Stella saw Andrew’s anxious expression. ‘I wish you would tell me now, Dad—’

‘When you come back, I promise . . .’ Tom’s voice wavered as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. His eyes shone with tears. He stuck out his hand to Andrew. ‘Be good for Stella and write to Esmie,’ he instructed.

Awkwardly, Andrew shook his hand. Then, spontaneously, they both gripped each other in a hug. For a few seconds, they clung on fiercely.

‘Just come back. That’s all I ask,’ Tom said, his voice cracking.

Andrew’s voice wobbled. ‘Of course I will, Dad.’ Then tears began to spill down his cheeks.

Tom kissed his forehead and pulled away, almost pushing Andrew towards the gangplank. ‘Off you go with Stella and find the elusive Miss Jessop. Make sure your mother wires to let us know when you arrive in Ebbsmouth.’

Stella steered Andrew by the arm but he disengaged and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. ‘I’m fine.’

At the top, it was a struggle to look over the throng of other passengers making their way on board. They moved along the deck to find a space to wave.

‘We can look for our cabins later,’ said Stella, knowing Andrew would want to watch his father till the final moment.

She could easily pick out Tom in his crumpled white suit, standing a head