Bone China (8 page)

Outside, the heat was solid and impenetrable. Robert wrote down the time of the concert and shook hands with her. There was a small flash of startling blue as he glanced at her, then he was gone. It was as though the sea, ultramarine and wonderful, had seeped into her day. Opening her mouth to call after him, watching his receding back, Frieda stopped abruptly, for what on earth did she think she was doing? Turning, quickly, she began to walk home and entirely missed seeing her mother slipping out of a dark unfamiliar alleyway beside the station, into the afternoon sunshine. As she opened her umbrella and lifted her sari off the ground, Grace had the look of a softly bruised and ripened fruit, with a bloom, not usually found on
the face of a woman who had borne five children and lived with a man such as Aloysius. She looked like a woman ten years her junior. But Frieda hurrying home in the scorching heat, with her heart on fire, and a set of wings attached to the soles of her feet, her sari sweeping up the dust of all Asia, saw none of this. Her mother’s dazed and secret look was entirely lost on her. For now at last, finally, Frieda had a secret all of her own.

‘Yes?’ asked Jasper as she entered the house stealthily, adding to himself, when she did not reply, ‘Up to no good.’

Frieda, pouring herself a long, cool glass of water, adding many ice cubes to it, ignored him, certain, even as the liquid slipped down her throat, that her world had changed forever since lunchtime.

Myrtle switched on her ceiling fan. Then she unlocked the drawer in her desk and took out her diary. Refilling her fountain pen she began to write.

October 28. A profitable morning. Followed G as far as the Elephant Hotel but then lost her. The taxi driver was exceedingly stupid and did not seem to understand what following a car meant. However, Mr B was very helpful. I gave him the information about the wedding and he agreed with me that the marriage is not a good one. Time will tell, he kept saying, shaking his head, gloomily. When I asked him how much time, he spread the cards. He is a very thoughtful and clever man and I am inclined to believe him. By the looks of things this marriage is going to be in serious trouble. Mr B asked me why I wanted to know so badly. There was no point in going into the details, no point in telling him about G and my suspicions about her activities with the British. I simply told him I wanted to save the rest of the family from further harm. Mr B nodded his head and told me I would
not have long to wait. Months, perhaps, he said. But I had the distinct feeling he meant weeks. Then he gave me something else to stop the marriage. He told me what to do. I daren’t write the instructions down. All this has cost me a hell of a lot of money.

Myrtle paused. She could hear someone moving about in the hall. Jasper was saying something. She opened her door gently.

‘Up to no good,’ Jasper was saying morosely. ‘Up to no good!’

Robert Grant could not believe his luck. Having finished his degree at Oxford earlier that summer, he had arrived in Colombo to visit his parents. Sir John Grant had only a few more months as High Commissioner, after which he would return to England. Robert’s mother had decided it was a good thing for him to travel across the empire, before following his father into the Foreign Office. To begin with Robert had been bored. The embassy was filled with stuffy old people and the only locals he met were shopkeepers or servants. Then, just as he began to wish he were back in England again, quite by chance he had met Frieda de Silva. On her invitation he had gone to Alicia’s concert the following Monday and met the rest of her family. Mrs de Silva invited him to have dinner with them afterwards.

‘I know your father!’ Grace exclaimed when she had discovered who he was. They had finished eating and were now in the drawing room. ‘We’re very old friends. How lovely to meet you at last. I knew you were coming over here, but not when.’ Grace was delighted. ‘We used to play together as children, you know. He used to visit us at the House of Many Balconies. Your grandfather and my father were good friends. How funny! We’ve just had an invitation to your father’s farewell party at Mount Lavinia House.’

Robert was pleased.

‘How long will you be in Colombo?’ asked Grace.

‘I’m sailing back just before the New Year.’

‘Oh what a pity. You’ll miss Alicia’s wedding!’

Robert was startled. And then dismayed. So the girl Alicia was engaged to be married? Gosh! he thought, not knowing what to say. Suddenly Sunil’s presence made sense. He felt a sharp sense of something having passed him by. Something irretrievable and very important.

‘I forgot,’ he mumbled. ‘What a pity.’

‘Never mind,’ Grace told him cheerfully, ‘we’ll see you at the party on Saturday.’

‘Do you have a telescope?’ Aloysius asked suddenly. ‘You know we’re having an eclipse soon?’

In spite of herself Grace shivered. Perhaps, she thought, confused, there will be rain soon. Briefly her eyes met Myrtle’s.

‘I expect my father has,’ Robert said, distractedly.

He was unable to take his eyes off Alicia who was laughing with Thornton. Catching sight of him looking at her, Alicia called him over to join them.

‘You know, darl,’ Aloysius said, turning to Grace, ‘hundreds of staff on the railways walked out today. The factory workers from the rubber plantations are joining them tomorrow. The copra workers will strike next. The Sinhalese are blaming the Tamils for taking their jobs. I heard on the news yesterday, the government expect things to explode around the time of the eclipse.’

‘I know,’ said Grace softly. She looked at Sunil.

‘Come on, sis,’ Thornton was saying, ‘don’t be so boring! Let’s play a duet. Tell her, will you, Sunil?’

Sunil smiled. They were both such children! He turned to Grace.

‘The government told the factory workers to go back to work
or lose their jobs,’ he said, his face serious. He shook his head. It was utterly unbelievable. ‘Trade in rubber and copra had fallen, you know. There’s not much demand for these materials any more. That’s the reason the factories are closing. It’s nothing to do with the Tamils.’

‘Of course, men,’ Aloysius agreed, joining in and beginning to get agitated. ‘This is nothing new, we all know this. Of course, of course. The Tamils haven’t taken the jobs. There
are no
jobs. It’s the fault of the war! Why don’t the Sinhalese blame it on the war instead?’ he asked belligerently.

Thornton and Alicia had begun to play a duet, laughing and stumbling over the notes, pushing each other off the piano stool. Sunil hesitated, his eyes on Alicia. She was so much younger than him. More than anything else in the world he wanted her life to be trouble-free. He wanted her to live a life of peace.

‘I was out on the streets all of last week,’ he said. ‘Canvassing for the United Ethnic Party.’ Robert had gone over to the piano and was watching Alicia. Sunil lowered his voice. ‘It wasn’t too good.’ He shook his head, gesturing helplessly. ‘There’s a lot of ignorance, a lot of aggression.’

He stopped, seeing Grace’s face. He could not tell her; what he feared the most was a bloodbath.

Christopher scowled at Robert. White fool, he was thinking. Go back to where you belong. You’ve done enough damage with your empire-building. Christopher edged nearer to the door. He had hoped to visit Kamala tonight but now it didn’t look possible. Thornton’s laughter drifted towards him. ‘Oh why don’t you shut up!’ muttered Christopher, distracted. Looking around at her family, aware of certain tensions, Grace sighed. There was a guest present; she could not let Aloysius start an argument. She could see that Christopher was unhappy
about something; she could hear Jasper making barking noises, he was probably thirsty. It was not the time for discussions; she would talk to Sunil later, when they were alone and she would find out what he really thought. But for now she needed to change the subject.

‘Christopher,’ she said, raising her voice, ‘could you make sure the servant has given Jasper enough water to drink? It’s very hot at the moment and he seems restless.’

She smiled at him, but Christopher continued to scowl, ignoring his mother.

‘Idiot!’ screeched Jasper suddenly, breaking a longer than usual silence. ‘Imbeciles!’

He fluttered somewhere in the darkness above them. Myrtle could hear his unclipped claws scratch, on heaven knows what antique piece of furniture. Myrtle hated the bird most of all.

‘Idiot! Bastards!’

‘Jasper!’ said Grace sharply. ‘That’s enough. Don’t be so
rude
.’ She smiled at Robert, a smile as sweet as Alicia’s, adding somewhat unnecessarily, ‘Jasper is our mynah bird, Robert. Unfortunately he has no manners. We’re really not sure what to do about it, but we do think he’s a bit of an oracle!’

Everyone laughed except Myrtle and Aloysius who looked meaningfully at his wife. Who knows what Jasper might say at the wedding? his look warned. But Robert, like many before him, was entranced. A talking bird, he thought. How exotic! The household, the whole family, everything about the de Silvas, was delightfully eccentric. Why had he ever thought this country boring? England suddenly seemed a very long way away.

On the day of the Prime Minister’s party for the High Commissioner Grace brought Vijay a mango freshly picked from a tree in Jaffna. It had been given to her by a servant. No other
mango tasted as sweet as those from the north, Vijay told her. But he did not look happy. Carefully he cut into it with his penknife, the juice running down his arm, and all the fragrance of his childhood, all the yearnings of his youth, gathered and fell to the floor. This morning, during their lovemaking, he had hardly looked at her. Sensing some desperation, she tried questioning him afterwards, but he avoided her eye.

‘What is it, Vijay?’ she asked, frightened suddenly. ‘Has something happened?’ She knew he did not want her to go to the party tonight and meet the Prime Minister. He hated this figurehead in a puppet government. She wondered if this was the problem.

‘I had a letter this morning,’ Vijay said slowly. And then, in a rush of unaccustomed bitterness, he told her about his niece, his brother’s daughter. He had often talked about the girl. ‘You know she was five last month.’

Grace nodded. Vijay looked terrible.

‘She became ill with diphtheria a few weeks ago. My brother was very worried. He took his bullock cart into the town where the doctor lived. He walked in the burning heat, the road was covered in red dust. My brother took two pots of curd, hoping to find a doctor he could afford. One that would treat a Tamil child.’ He stopped talking.

‘What’s happened?’ asked Grace.

Vijay was staring at the floor. ‘They sent me the news, today,’ he said barely audibly. ‘They could not find such a doctor. Now they want me to make a
puja
for her.’

The child had died. His brother was inconsolable.

‘One more Tamil death is not important,’ he said quietly.

‘Oh my God! What kind of people have we become? Where will it end?’

‘There is something wrong with a country that will not unite.
There is something wrong with a nation that hates its own people.’

Grace could see that things were breaking inside him, and would not be easily mended. The night before there had been a police attack on a crowd of Tamil office workers and tonight there was a large demonstration taking place near Galle Face. Vijay would go to it, Grace was certain. What could she do? He was stubborn and angry, he had been hurt for so long, Grace could not stop him. She stayed as late as she dared. Then she left to get ready for the party.

Towards six o’clock, in the sudden darkness that descended, Vijay went out into the city. The talk was that there would be another march followed by anti-government speeches. He felt a desperate need to be part of it. Just now the darkness lent a little substance to the city. There was no twilight in this part of the tropics. The heat had brought out the local families. Small children played on the beach, lovers strolled, young men loitered, buying sweep tickets, hoping to win the money to purchase a dream. All along the roadside were small shanty
kadés
glowing with green and white lights, selling everything from cheap plastic toys and brooches and bangles, to multicoloured drinks and string hoppers, hot sambals and sweetmeats. The betel seller rolled his leaves, red and white goo dribbling from his toothless mouth. He waved at Vijay. But Vijay did not stop to talk tonight. His niece’s death had been in his thoughts all day. He was certain: two more deaths would follow. He walked on through the meat market, with its stench of rancid fat and congealed blood. The heat of the day had penetrated even here, even into this subterranean part. There were flies on every surface, on the vaulted ceilings, clinging to the carcasses, their blue wings hanging like drops of moisture. Vijay walked
on seeing none of this, his feet picking their way swiftly and fastidiously through the filth. Unseeing, towards the clock tower, a lone figure in a white sarong, trembling into the distance, silhouetted against the darkened sky.

At some point during the evening, out of a sense of nostalgia and probably because he was bored, Aloysius looked around for his wife.

‘This is entirely your mother’s fault,’ he told Frieda grumpily. ‘Why do we have to be here, wearing all this finery, suffering this silly party?’

Frieda was watching Robert. She too wished they were at home. Percussion instruments jarred in her head. One look at Alicia and I no longer exist. No one cares, he has forgotten about me! On and on went Frieda’s thoughts, round and round. She felt dizzy. Aloysius, thinking his younger daughter seemed a little glum this evening, helped himself to his third whisky and wandered off. Grace was standing on a balcony overhanging the private beach. She could see the top of Mount Lavinia Hill, with its whitewashed houses and its funfair. Someone on the beach below was flying a box kite and its tail flickered lazily in the wind. As always, whenever she was alone, Grace’s thoughts strayed back to Vijay. She had told him she would look across the bay and think of him. Tonight the view was hazy and the horizon had become blurred by a storm far out at sea. In the distance, forked lightning speared the water. The sky was heavy and full of menace. Soon the storm would reach the shore.