Tilly True (35 page)

Every day, as soon as Harriet had gone off either alone or with Susannah to visit other friends who lived in the town, Tilly went out with Ashok at her side. In this way she was able to explore the walled city with its battered gateways, half-ruined almost fifty years previously during the Indian Mutiny. She marvelled at marble pavilions built hundreds of years ago for princesses; at palaces, mosques, parks and gardens. To Tilly, used to the grime, chaos and violence of the East End, this was an exotic paradise and would have been heaven on earth, if only Barney were here to share it with her.

Sometimes, early in the evening, when Francis was in his study and Harriet taking a nap before dinner, Tilly and Ashok would walk to the top of the Ridge, an outcrop of rock rising from the surrounding plains. From the vantage point of the Flagstaff Tower, she could look down at the walled city with its domes and minarets and the Red Fort with the river Jumna winding close to its walls. Ashok told her terrifying stories of the muggers, short-snouted crocodiles that lurked in the river, waiting to snap up an unwary bather or an animal that had come down to drink its waters.

One evening, as they made their way back to the bungalow just before sunset, Tilly saw, in the distance, packs of jackals coming out to hunt. Listening to their baying calls, she shuddered; this was a beautiful place, an exciting place and dangerous. If only Barney were here. Ashok held up his hand to help her over the rocky path leading down to the plain, and when he grinned up at her, revealing a row of white teeth that gleamed in the gathering dusk, she was reminded once again of Jim. Despite her surroundings, she felt the sharp pang of homesickness for her family, for Barney and for the baby that she had lost. The wind came and then the rain, soaking them both before Tilly had time to put up the umbrella that she always carried.

‘Good heavens, Tilly. What on earth happened to you?' Harriet was just crossing the hall to the dining room as Tilly came in through the front door, soaked to the skin and shivering, followed by an equally wet Ashok.

‘We got caught in the rain.'

‘The boy should have gone straight to the servants' quarters. You know that, Tilly.' Harriet frowned at Ashok, who scuttled off, leaving wet footprints on the red sandstone tiles.

‘Have a heart, Hattie,' Tilly said impatiently. ‘The boy was soaked to the skin.'

‘You'd best change out of those wet things quickly, Tilly,' Harriet said, frowning. ‘You know Francis doesn't like to be kept waiting, and I think he's got something to tell you.'

Five minutes later, dressed for dinner but having given up all attempts to do anything more fashionable with her wet hair than to fix it in a knot at the nape of her neck, Tilly hurried into the dining room. Francis was sitting at the head of the table, tapping his water glass with a spoon, and Harriet, sitting at the opposite end, gave Tilly a despairing look.

‘Where were you this evening?' Francis glared at Tilly.

‘I'm sorry I'm late but we got caught in the heaviest downpour you can imagine and had to take shelter beneath the Kashmiri Gate until it stopped.'

Francis set the spoon down, fussily lining it up with his dessert fork. ‘It isn't safe to be out after dark. You know that.'

‘I'm sorry. It won't happen again.'

Francis said nothing as Meera glided into the room carrying bowls of soup. She placed one in front of each of them and left as quietly as she had entered.

‘Excellent! Brown Windsor soup,' Francis said, closing his eyes and sniffing. ‘Let us say grace.'

Bowing her head, Tilly barely heard the familiar words as she tried to work up an appetite for steaming Brown Windsor soup, when something cool and spicy would have been much more acceptable. Now that the rain had cleared, the heat was oppressive and her muslin gown was already clinging damply between her shoulder blades.

‘For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful,' Francis intoned. ‘Amen.'

‘Amen.' Harriet and Tilly chorused.

For a minute or two, the only sound in the room was the clank of silver spoons on china plates. Outside, pi-dogs were howling at the moon and huge moths hurled themselves at the glass windowpanes.

‘I believe you had something to tell Tilly,' Harriet said, breaking the silence.

Francis paused, his spoon halfway to his lips. ‘Ah, yes. I've located my brother, your . . . husband.'

Tilly almost dropped her spoon. She knew that Francis had been making some efforts to discover Barney's whereabouts, she had reminded him often enough, but it was over a month since they had arrived in Delhi and she had almost given up hope.

‘You're surprised?' Francis raised his eyebrows. ‘You knew that I was making enquiries.'

‘Yes, I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting – I mean, where is he? Does he know I'm here?'

Maddening in his slowness, Francis sipped a mouthful of soup, wiping his mouth on his table napkin before answering. ‘His regiment is stationed at Rawalpindi. I've written to him, telling him that you are staying with us.'

‘Rawalpindi? Where is that?'

‘I know, I know,' Harriet said, clearly enjoying the drama. ‘It's near the North-West Frontier. I've heard Colonel Cholmondeley speak about the terrible battles for the Khyber Pass – hundreds have been killed. Tilly, are you all right? You've gone terribly pale.'

Leaning across the table, Francis poured water into a glass and handed it to Tilly. He frowned at Harriet. ‘That was a stupid remark, even for you, Harriet.'

‘I'm not stupid,' Harriet said, pouting. ‘I just repeated what Colonel Cholmondeley said. You're the one who's upset Tilly.'

‘I'm fine,' Tilly said, taking a deep breath. ‘It was a shock, that's all. I hadn't thought of him actually fighting in a battle and risking his life.'

One of his rare smiles curved Francis's lips. ‘My dear girl, he's a soldier. Of course he's going to fight, if the need arises, although knowing Barnaby I daresay he'll do his best to keep out of the line of fire.'

‘He's not a coward,' Tilly cried. ‘Don't say things like that when he's not here to defend himself.'

‘Each time he has got himself into trouble Barnaby has run away. I don't suppose he's changed just because he's wearing a uniform.'

Jumping to her feet, Tilly pushed her chair back so hard that it toppled over. ‘I won't hear nothing against Barney.'

‘And I won't have scenes at the dinner table.' Francis banged his hand down on the tabletop so hard that the cutlery flew up in the air and landed in jingling heaps. ‘Sit down.'

‘I won't sit down. I'm going to pack my bags and go to wherever you said it was and find Barney.'

‘You can't travel all that way on your own,' Harriet said, getting to her feet and picking up the chair. ‘Please sit down, before Meera comes in to clear the table.'

‘That's all you think about, isn't it?' Tilly turned on Harriet, her temper rising. ‘Manners and appearance and how things look. Well, all I care about is Barney. I love him and I'm his wife, legal and proper. I'm going to join him even if I have to walk all the way to bleeding Rawal whatever it's called.'

Chapter Seventeen

Ignoring Harriet's pleas, Tilly went straight to her room and taking her valise from beneath the bed she began emptying drawers, flinging clothes higgledy-piggledy into the case.

Harriet burst into the room. ‘Tilly, stop.'

‘You've both made it clear that I'm not welcome,' Tilly said, opening the wardrobe door and dragging gowns off hangers. ‘I know I'm an embarrassment to you and I'm going to find my husband.'

Harriet slumped down on the bed. ‘This is all my fault. I know I've neglected you. I've left you on your own too much and all I've thought about is my own pleasure.'

‘Oh, please!' Tilly paused for a moment. ‘Don't spout all that holy stuff. You sound just like Francis.'

‘I don't mean to, and I'm truly sorry if you've felt unwelcome. Please stop and think, Tilly. This is madness; you can't travel all the way to Rawalpindi on your own. Barney would be furious if we allowed you to do such a foolhardy thing.'

Reluctantly, Tilly hung the gown she was holding back on its rail. ‘He'll come for me as soon as he knows I'm here.'

Harriet smiled, relief written all over her face. ‘Of course he will. And I promise that I'll be a better sister to you, if you'll let me.'

Staring down at the jumble of clothes on the bed, Tilly sighed. ‘Then you'd best help me put all this stuff away.'

‘Does that mean you'll stay?'

‘I suppose so.'

Getting to her feet, Harriet began sorting and folding garments. ‘I'll introduce you to Susannah and Mrs Cholmondeley, which is something I ought to have done from the start. And, if you promise to make it up with Francis, I'll tell you a secret.'

All her outrage forgotten, Tilly sat down amidst a pile of gloves and handkerchiefs. ‘I promise.'

‘Well,' Harriet said, folding and refolding one of Tilly's petticoats, a slow flush rising from her neck to her cheeks. ‘Susannah has a brother.'

‘You're in love!'

Harriet's blush deepened and she giggled. ‘His name is Ronnie, Lieutenant Ronald Cholmondeley of the 3rd Lancers, and he's stationed at Meerut.'

‘And you never said a word about him. I do call that mean, Hattie.'

‘I know, but it's not official. We've only known each other for a few weeks.'

‘And it was love at first sight?'

‘Oh, yes! For me it was and I think for Ronnie too, but I'm not sure that the colonel would approve. You see, he's very old-fashioned and he wants Ronnie to concentrate on his career. He doesn't approve of men marrying before they're thirty and Ronnie is only twenty-two, three years older than me.'

‘Does Susannah know about this?'

‘Yes, and she thinks it's terribly romantic.'

‘And Francis?'

‘Not yet.' Harriet sank down on the bed, her shoulders drooping. ‘I don't think he would approve of my marrying into the army.'

Thinking this over, Tilly nodded. ‘You mean because the fighting and killing goes against his religious beliefs.'

‘No, because he'd be afraid I would be widowed and he would have to look after me for the rest of my life.' Although she spoke seriously, the dimple at the corner of Harriet's mouth quivered and there was a twinkle in her eyes.

Suddenly the whole situation seemed too ridiculous for words. Tilly began to giggle; Harriet joined in, and soon they were rolling helplessly about on the bed, laughing hysterically.

‘I accept your apology,' Francis said, setting his coffee cup down at a precise angle on its saucer. ‘We won't mention the subject again.'

‘Thank you, Francis,' Tilly said, avoiding Harriet's eyes in the knowledge that one glance would start them both off again.

Harriet cleared her throat. ‘And I'm taking Tilly with me tomorrow, when I visit the Cholmondeleys. It's time she began mixing in army circles and getting used to the way of life before Barney comes for her.'

‘You're right, of course,' Francis said, frowning. ‘I should have thought of that myself.'

‘And,' Harriet said, taking a deep breath, ‘there's to be a ball at Ludlow Castle. We've been invited, Francis. You will take us, won't you?'

For a moment, Tilly thought that Francis was going to refuse, but he nodded, although a bit reluctantly, and even managed a tired smile. ‘If you wish.' Getting slowly to his feet he made for the door, pausing and turning to Tilly. ‘I'm sure you'll hear from Barnaby very soon.'

As the door closed on him, Harriet clapped her hands. ‘There, that was surprisingly easy. Now all I've got to do is introduce Ronnie to Francis. You will help me, won't you, Tilly?'

Tilly's introduction to the Cholmondeleys was not an unqualified success, but then she had not really expected anything else. Her experiences with the toffee-nosed first class passengers on the SS
Malta
had made her wary and, she thought afterwards, maybe it had been her fault that Mrs Cholmondeley had not taken to her. She had tried so hard to enunciate her words in exactly the same way that Harriet did, and to behave in a cool and ladylike fashion, that maybe she had overdone things. Perhaps she had been a bit too prickly; a holly leaf amongst the gardenias. Mrs Cholmondeley had been polite but frosty, as if she had seen through Tilly as clearly as if she were a pane of glass: if she had spent any more time looking down her nose, Tilly was certain that her eyes would have crossed. Susannah had been more congenial, but her interest was fleeting, and although they made a concerted attempt to include Tilly in their conversation she was soon forgotten as Harriet and Susannah chatted earnestly about the forthcoming ball.

The Cholmondeleys' residence was a white, two-storey, crenellated building with a flat roof that looked more suitable for a prince or a raja than for a mere army colonel. The marble interior was even impressive with white-robed, turbaned servants appearing silently as if from nowhere to wait on their slightest command. Tilly had never been in such a grand house or been in the company of an imposing matriarch like Mrs Cholmondeley. She would have been grateful not to be included in future invitations to afternoon tea at Cholmondeley Palace, her own private nickname for the house, but Harriet was keeping doggedly to her word, and Tilly could find no reasonable excuse for refusing to accompany her.

The cool began in October and the monsoon ended. The days were still hot but the nights were much cooler and that made sleeping easier. Tilly had written several letters to Barney and was still waiting for a reply. She worried that he had not received the letters – or perhaps he was away from camp fighting on the North-West Frontier, but she tried hard not to dwell on that prospect. She was certain that he would come soon or at least that she would receive a letter from him. In the meantime she filled her days with long walks, accompanied by Ashok, and suffered the obligatory visits to Cholmondeley Palace, which she was beginning to dread.