The Peacock Spring (7 page)

Why not? It was suddenly going too far. Una and Hal collapsed into giggles. ‘Edward, and a horse!’

‘Why shouldn’t he have a horse?’ Alix demanded. ‘Why not, if he wants one.’

‘Edward wanting a horse!’ They were overcome with laughter.

Again that colour stained Alix’s neck and cheeks. ‘You are very impertinent girls.’ She had been prepared for hostility, had understood Una’s resentment, but she had not
visualized laughter. ‘Your father is like the rest of us, and needs some recreation.’

‘But a
horse
.’ They leant against one another, weak with laughter.

‘He plays no game, takes no exercise,’ argued Alix.

‘He has never taken exercise.’ Una was wiping her eyes. ‘He just gets himself thin with work.’

‘But he must want it – need it.’

‘You don’t know Edward as we know Edward . . .’ sang Una and, ‘What would he do with a horse,’ Hal asked rudely, ‘when he is in Japan?’

‘Siam,’ sang Una.

‘Assam.’

‘Funagity-pan.’ Then Una, catching sight of Alix’s face, tried to say, ‘I’m sorry, Alix. I know you meant to be kind, but it’s true, you don’t know
Edward.’

A burst of fresh giggles, but Alix had taken the measure of them. ‘I see it hasn’t struck you,’ she said with silky smoothness, ‘that Edward might have come to like
something different?’

The laughter stopped; Una’s face was set again. After a moment Hal said, ‘Oh well, are you going to ride Maxim now, Alix?’

‘Edward is generous enough to let me ride Maxim when he is away.’

Beside the mare and pony, the chestnut looked enormous. ‘Well, he’s seventeen hands,’ but Alix swung up on him easily. ‘We’ll walk them on the edge of the parade
ground until you see how they go.’ See how they go – not How you can ride. Again that tactfulness that made Una feel so contrary, but, You have just had a brush with her and came off
worst, she told herself. Better keep quiet; besides, riding Mouse was an irresistible happiness. The little mare was obedient to every pressure of Una’s leg, the least touch of the rein.
‘You have good hands,’ said Alix.

From the parade ground, bridle paths led away to open land; Una could see the red-earth rides shaded by feathery-leaved trees. A posse of children cantered down one of them, the riding-master
behind. ‘Pony Club,’ said Alix and, ‘That’s how we had to ride at Cerne,’ Una told her. ‘And we rode hired hacks,’ said Hal, ‘and in Geneva. In
Teheran we hired ponies too, but they were only little country ones.’

Una looked down at Mouse with almost disbelieving pride. ‘Edward must have grown suddenly rich.’

Alix was casting an anxious eye at Snowball, restive under Hal’s too eager hands. ‘Don’t pull at the reins, Hal. You’ll only make him worse.’ Other riders passed
them, families who looked at them with curiosity; two Indian women; officers; then a young officer on a dapple-grey mare. After a moment he rode back, then turned and came up to them, saluting Alix
with his whip. ‘Isn’t it Alix? Alix Lamont?’

‘Good morning, Captain Singh.’ She would have ridden on but he reined in beside them; his eyes, that were gay, friendly – and bold, thought Una instinctively – had taken
in her, Mouse, Hal, Snowball and Maxim. ‘New post?’ he asked Alix/Miss Lamont. ‘New people?’ There was a touch of impertinence, of banter.

‘Sir Edward Gwithiam has engaged me as companion . . .’ Una and Hal were relieved Alix had not used the word governess. ‘Companion to his daughters.’

‘Sir Edward Gwithiam. Whew! You
have
come up in the world.’

‘Vikram!’ Her voice was sharp, but he was unrepentant. ‘I myself have come down,’ he said, ‘as I well know, but am I not reputable enough to be
introduced?’

‘You’re not reputable at all,’ but Alix was only half-severe. ‘Girls, this is Captain Vikram Singh of the President’s Bodyguard. Una and Halcyon
Gwithiam.’

‘How do you do,’ but it was impossible for Una to be prim; set off by the grey’s sidling and fidgeting, Mouse had begun to curvet too. Snowball followed, then bucked, almost
unseating Hal, and the grey reared. ‘I had better take myself off,’ said Captain Singh, ‘and knock some of the devil out of this animal. Then, if I may, I’ll come back and
ride with you.’

‘Arre! Shaitan!’ Alix shouted at Snowball. Una was to learn that Alix often lapsed into Hindi expletives when she was annoyed; now she caught Snowball’s rein and brought him up
beside Maxim. ‘Stop pulling, Hal; and Una, you should use your whip when Mouse fidgets like that.’

‘Thank goodness I didn’t come off,’ said Hal. ‘Imagine if I had been bucked off in front of Captain Singh!’

‘You don’t have to bother about Vikram,’ said Alix, ‘and girls, please don’t encourage him.’ Alix was unable to keep emotion out of her voice so that it
sounded like a plea more than advice and, Why? thought Una. Why?

‘He says he has come down in the world. What did he mean?’ asked Hal.

‘His father is Pratap Singh, His Highness Pratap Rajendranath Singh, Maharajah of Paralampur.’

‘I thought there were no highnesses now, no maharajahs,’ said Una.

‘No. Poor Paralampur. I wonder what he will do. They say he has been stripped of his purse as well . . . Here is Vikram back,’ said Alix. ‘That grey isn’t all that
steady; Hal, you had better get off and hold Maxim for me. I will take Snowball round for a few minutes.’

The Captain came and stood with them while, Una still on Mouse and Hal holding Maxim, they watched Alix schooling the pony, giving him a sharp cut with her whip when he tried his rebellious
bucking. Captain Singh did not speak to the girls, only gave them an absent-minded smile, but they both stole glances at him. ‘I suppose he would have inherited?’ Una asked Alix
afterwards.

‘Yes, he was the Raj Kumar.’ The fact that the young prince was stripped of his title, his palaces, land and money, made him more romantic in their eyes – ‘Though
it’s quite right,’ said socialist Una. Vikram, too, seemed remarkably cheerful. He was lithe and slim as a girl, but obviously strong from the way he managed his horse; his skin was as
ivory as Alix’s and he wore a small, fine almost pencilled moustache – ‘A dear little moustache,’ Hal whispered to Una. ‘Why does he wear a topi?’ Una was to
ask. ‘I thought no one had them now.’

‘Indian cavalry officers do, and the players wear them for polo.’

‘Did you notice his jodhpurs?’ Hal sighed. Great-Aunt Frederica had been mean about theirs. ‘Surely in the land of jodhpurs,’ she had said, ‘if you need them, they
can be made for you there?’

‘They should be made for us here, in London,’ but they had to accept the ready-made ones Great-Aunt Freddie grudgingly conceded. The Captain’s seemed moulded to his slim legs,
even his army shirt was graceful and his topi was wound with silk in the Bodyguard’s scarlet colours. But he isn’t as good-looking as our young gardener, thought Una.

The day before, just before Edward left, she had asked again about the young man in the hut. ‘Who is it who lives down there at the end of the garden behind those flowers?’

‘Probably one of the malis, the gardeners,’ said Alix.

‘He’s the second mali,’ Edward had said. ‘I asked Chinaberry.’

‘Why does he live alone, not in the servants’ quarters?’ asked Una.

‘He’s a Brahmin,’ said Edward. ‘They don’t mingle.’

‘I thought Brahmins were priests, holy people.’

‘They are, but nowadays they have to be other things as well – politicians, lawyers, bankers, teachers.’

‘And gardeners.’

‘And gardeners, but they still keep their distance. Ganesh, our head gardener, has his own house in the bazaar. He has done well from the Americans and from the United Nations, has Ganesh.
One day I will take you and Hal to visit his wife, if she will accept us.’

‘Why shouldn’t she?’

‘We are untouchables, you know.’

‘Edward! What nonsense you tell the child.’

‘It isn’t nonsense. I want them to understand, Alix, get close to these people,’ but Edward had not known the second mali’s name.

When Alix came back to the group under the trees, Snowball was quiet. ‘He just wants to see if you are firm with him,’ she told Hal.

‘Let her keep between you and me,’ said Captain Singh as Alix and Hal remounted.

‘You’re not coming with us?’

‘For a little,’ and, for the first time, he addressed Una. ‘If you have no objection, Miss Gwithiam.’

‘I?’ Una was startled. ‘Oh no – I mean, of course not.’

‘Don’t let Snowball dawdle or try any tricks.’ Alix was obviously not best pleased and, for once, spoke sharply to Hal. ‘Use your whip and your legs.’ Una rode
apart – like a Brahmin, she thought, and smiled – but when they had ridden twice round, trotted, tried a slow canter, Alix asked, ‘Girls, would you mind if I let Maxim out? He
needs a good gallop.’

Sitting on their horses, Vikram, Una and Hal watched the flying orange-shirted figure scarcely moving in the saddle as the big horse thundered over the ground. ‘I had forgotten,’
said Vikram, ‘how stunning she is.’ His watching eyes were thoughtful – and determined, thought Una. ‘What a thousand shames,’ he went on, ‘she should have had
to spend all those years with that fat slob Sethji.’

‘Seth . . .?’ Una had not caught the name.

‘Sethji. Chaman Lal Sethji. Sethji means “rich man”, and he is certainly that, but Miss Lamont did not get any riding with him, whatever else they say she did!’ He
laughed and, He doesn’t realize how young we are, thought Una.

‘Why is he a slob?’ asked Hal. ‘What did he do to Alix?’

‘Hal, you’re not to ask questions.’ Una repressed her, then asked one herself. ‘Did you know Miss Lamont well?’ she asked.

‘In Calcutta and Delhi, everyone knows everyone.’ He seemed to have become aware he was talking to two young girls and, He is trying to pass it off, thought Una. ‘You mean
“everyone who is anyone” in your world,’ she said and, for the first time, Captain Singh looked at her; perhaps he found her eyes shrewd because, with obviously more truth, he
said, ‘Let us say I know
of
Miss Lamont.’

Alix came trotting back to them, her cheeks glowing and, ‘If anyone ought to have a horse, it’s she,’ said Una.

‘Indeed yes. You should ask your father.’ Vikram slipped off the grey and went forward to help Alix dismount, but Una saw how skilfully she eluded his hand and, as if she had felt a
warning, Una said, ‘Hal, you had better not ask Edward about the man Captain Singh called the fat slob.’

Hal, though, had hardly taken in the name Chaman Lal Sethji. As the Captain and Alix/Miss Lamont came up leading their horses she asked, ‘Do you play polo, Captain Singh?’

‘Couldn’t you call me Vikram?’

Hal dropped her lashes under his look – he has realized how pretty she is, thought Una – but it was no more than a fleeting glance; his eyes went straight back to Alix/Miss Lamont.
As for Hal, it was clear she had never seen anyone in the least like this young prince before and, ‘Do you . . . Vikram?’ she murmured.

‘As a matter of fact I am playing this afternoon. Miss Lamont, why don’t you bring Miss Gwithiam and her sister?’

‘Una and Hal,’ murmured Hal.

‘No thank you, Vikram.’ Alix was crisp. ‘Come, girls, we must go home now. Good morning, Captain Singh.’ But Vikram did not go.

‘Miss Una, I appeal to you.’

‘Una is not interested in polo,’ said Alix.

‘But I
am
.’ A spice of devilment had seized Una. ‘I watched polo in Teheran and would love to see it again. Thank you, Vikram.’

On the way home Alix was ominously silent until, ‘You did that,’ she said to Una, ‘because I asked you not to.’

‘Not at all,’ said Una with a coolness she had not known she possessed. ‘I did it because we wanted to go. We’re not babies, Miss Lamont. If you don’t want us to do
things you must give us a reason.’

That seemed to drive Alix into a corner. ‘I can’t give you a reason.’

‘Then you can’t expect us to agree, can you?’

‘“Agree” is hardly the word to use between a governess and children.’

Una shrugged.

‘Oh, don’t let’s spoil things,’ begged Hal, but already a kind of patball had begun between Una and Alix/Miss Lamont. No, patball is too direct, thought Una: it was more
like two people playing at shuttlecock – and the feathers of a shuttlecock are sharp-edged.

Alix, it seemed, kept house for Edward and, after breakfast, ‘I must see Christopher,’ she said. ‘Christopher and Dino and Ram Chand; give out stores, ask
about flowers. Come and watch if you like.’ ‘Dino, Ram and Christopher have been butler, bearer and cook at Shiraz Road for years,’ Alix told Una and Hal. ‘They know far
more about this house than I do,’ and she deferred to them, merely asking what they wanted from the store cupboards she unlocked.

‘Do you keep store cupboards
locked
?’ Una was shocked.

‘Always in India,’ said Alix. ‘Your servants would not respect you else. This big one holds UN’s stores for official entertaining. Sometimes there are business luncheons
or dinners, mostly stag ones, then we shall have to keep out of the way. This small cupboard is private for Edward, his drinks and cigars and so on.’ Alix praised the vegetables, eggs,
butter, meat and fish Christopher had bought fresh that morning; they were presented, invitingly arranged in a basket, for her to inspect. She praised last night’s dinner too, complimented
Dino on the table, smelled Ganesh’s roses. Why then, Una wondered, was there such stoniness in Dino’s, Ram’s and Ganesh’s faces, such a surly look on
Christopher’s?

Alix ignored it. ‘Servants don’t matter,’ she said. Their mouths may be shut in front of us, was Una’s silent rejoinder, but they have eyes to see, ears to hear and minds
of their own – as have I, thought Una.

All the same, Alix’s presence in the house made it different from any she and Hal had known before. You sing about the house, thought Una, sing quite softly, I know, but the song has a
lilt. You are a big woman but your step is quick and light, your hands deft and capable and your hair is so bright that, in the sun, it seems to be haloed. No wonder Edward likes to have you here
– but Una snatched that thought back. Miss Lamont is here for us, not Edward – but was she?