Where Earth Meets Sky (11 page)

‘No,’ Sam said ruefully. ‘I’m afraid I don’t. Truth is, I’m frightened to death of horses. What with those stamping hooves and whipping tails and tombstone teeth – and the way they throw their heads about!’ She was laughing at him now, a surprisingly full-hearted gurgle which delighted him and spread a grin across his own face. ‘As for climbing on the back of one, I’d rather lie down in the road in front of a motor car. At least they have brakes and you know they’ll stop if you press your foot!’

‘You would hope so.’ She was still laughing. ‘Unless the driver has taken very seriously against you!’

‘How long will you stay, do you think?’ he asked.

Her face clouded. ‘I suppose, only until he goes.’ Fondly, she laid her hand on Cosmo’s curls again. ‘He’ll go to England to school, you see. He’s just four – they’ll send him at five or six.’

As she said the last words, he was moved to see her eyes fill with tears and she looked down, busying herself with the delicate tea plates and knives. Just then, a young brown bullock appeared on the path, followed and goaded by a small boy trailing a stick in his hand. He came upon their gathering with astonishment, turning to stare as he passed. After a few moments the boy and cow disappeared behind the trees. Miss Waters gave a faint smile again.

‘There will be nothing more for me to do here.’ She sighed, looking in the direction of the young native child. ‘Sometimes I think their children are better off than ours.’ She nodded towards Cosmo, who was already tucking busily into a cake. ‘They live with their families and stay with them. Most of them, anyway. Terrible things happen to some of them, of course. All the diseases and misfortunes of life here. But at least they don’t send them away to live with strangers on the other side of the world when they’re hardly old enough to dress themselves.’

‘It does seem odd,’ Sam agreed, hearing the anger in her voice, though until then he’d never thought about it, not having mixed much with that echelon of people. He would have liked to ask her more about herself before the Fairfords came to join them, but suddenly she said, ‘You have come from Daimler? There are a good many motor manufacturers in Coventry, I believe?’

‘Yes – why, do you know it?’

She hesitated, just for a second, then looked calmly back at him again.

‘No. I don’t know Coventry. I stayed, for a very short time, in Birmingham – for a lady where I worked.’

‘Ah well – of course, there you’ve got the Wolseley, Siddley and the Austin,’ Sam began enthusiastically. ‘Plenty going on there.’ He was about to start holding forth the way he could when anyone got him going on motors. But he wouldn’t learn any more about Lily Waters by boring her half to death, would he?

‘Where’s your home then? I mean, in England.’

Looking down and smoothing out the rug, she said, ‘Oh, I’m from Kent, originally. But I’ve moved around a little. My father was a clergyman, you see, so we had parishes in various different counties.’

‘Had?’

‘Both my parents passed away at all too young an age.’ Unlike the plight of Cosmo, this statement did not seem to rouse any emotion in her. ‘That is why it has been a pleasure to me to become part of another family. I’m afraid I am really rather alone in the world.’

‘No brothers or sisters?’

‘I had an elder brother, but he had a weak heart. He was dead at fifteen.’

‘How sad.’

‘Yes, sad,’ she agreed, with such melancholy that it made the pistol wound in his heart throb again. He had a terrible desire to reach out and touch her hand.

‘I say – this looks good!’ The captain approached with boyish glee and rumpled Cosmo’s hair. Sam supposed the boy must get very tired of that as everyone seemed to do it. His hair seemed to ask for rumpling. ‘I see you’ve started tucking in already!’

‘Pater, the mech— mech-an-ic man says I can drive the car!’

The captain winked at Sam. ‘Good for you!’ he said to his son, then added, ‘Better if he goes with you, I’d say, at this stage!’

‘But you drove here like an expert,’ Sam said truthfully.

Mrs Fairford was settling herself down in a disdainful way, as if sitting on the ground was a terrible trial.

‘What a marvellous spot, eh?’ the captain said.

It truly was. The evening air was delicious, the sun sending sidelong rays of orange-pink light through the trees. The shifting shadows of the banyan leaves and its strange, primeval shape fell over them. Beyond, they could looked out upon the green of the paddies and the dusky edge far, far in the distance where, but for a verdant scattering of trees, the warm, flat land met the sky with no obstacle between.

Cosmo got up and skipped about, happily full of cake and not seeming to want to run too far off. The warm evening light had a calming effect on all of them. A group of four young lads passed along the path and the captain called out a greeting. The boys looked frightened at first, before he greeted them in Hindustani. Sam didn’t know what he said to them but they all started grinning away like mad and called something back and they went off, laughing and chattering together. They drank tea and Captain Fairford offered Sam one of the cheroots. Even Susan Fairford, once recovered from having to slum it on the ground, seemed to mellow into a more gentle person for the moment and Sam saw her genuinely pretty smile.

It was an evening he’d never forget. There was the motor there under the trees, all shipshape with no problems and looking splendid, and this soft, caressing air, his life of streets and factories and cramped dark houses all opening out into this unexpected and wondrous world. And beside him, a woman who he scarcely knew, but whose face and voice, whose
being
utterly captivated him. She had got right under his skin. Perhaps he should have been more frightened. Or guilty. But all he could feel was a sense of expectation as if he was fully, abundantly alive.

Every moment of the day now he was alert to thinking about Lily Waters and whether he might see her. It was as if Helen did not exist. All he could see was this radiant, mysterious woman’s face in his mind and know his craving to be near her. He was quietly in a constant state of maddening excitement.

Two days later, something out of the ordinary happened. They had all gone to bed and the dark house was making its usual creaking, scuttling noises. Sam had slept for a time when a great commotion broke out: the sound of crying, and women’s voices raised in panic. Cursing the mozzie net, he climbed out quickly and dressed. Opening the door, he heard Susan Fairford shrieking orders to the servants. She sounded quite beside herself.

‘Tell the cook to get the fire going to boil water – quickly, you fool! Send for Dr Fothergill!’

Wondering if he could be of help, Sam lit the candle and crossed the main hall to the other side of the house. The sound of fretful crying was coming from the boy’s nursery, and he saw Lily Waters run from the room into the neighbouring one and emerge again in seconds carrying a white cloth. She wore a silky green robe, her hair fastened in two plaits and she looked younger like that, and so sweet, to his eyes, but she was obviously frantic.

‘What’s wrong?’ He went to her. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Of course!’ Urgently, she caught hold of his arm. ‘You can take us to the doctor’s – please, will you? He’s so slow and Cosmo’s so very poorly!’

‘Lily, do come!’ Mrs Fairford called in a distraught voice from Cosmo’s room. She came to the door, her pale hair loose on her shoulders. ‘Have you found Arsalan?’ She didn’t seem to see Sam standing there.

‘Mr Ironside is here,’ Lily told her. ‘He could take Cozzy straight to Dr Fothergill, in the motor.’

‘Will it be all right with Captain Fairford?’ Sam was saying, as Susan Fairford ran into the room and snatched her son out of his bed. Even in the dim light Sam could see that the child was running a high fever.

‘It’s of no consequence whether it is or not!’ Mrs Fairford snapped. ‘He’s asleep. I believe he’d still be asleep if the house caved in! Take him – now! Lily, you take him!’

‘I need to dress . . .’

‘No, you don’t! It’s dark! Mr Ironside—’ For another brief moment Sam saw Susan Fairford in a different light which softened him towards her a fraction. She looked like a young girl in her nightclothes, her hair loose, frightened and vulnerable. ‘Please – can you take him safely?’ She looked down desperately at her limp son and put her right hand to her mouth for a second, biting on her knuckles. ‘Oh God, look at him! I’m so worried. I want him to see Dr Fothergill straight away. He knows us well . . . I don’t want to lose him . . .’ She began to sob.

‘Of course,’ Sam said, feeling sorry for her. And it sounded as if Lily Waters would be accompanying him. Would she? Oh God,
please
, his mind begged.

‘Do go, quickly!’

Sam ran to fetch his jacket and by the time he got back to the hall, Lily Waters was waiting with Cosmo in her arms, wrapped in a sheet. Sam was surprised to see Susan Fairford wrapping a shawl round Lily’s shoulders in an almost motherly gesture.

‘I should come with you – but you’re better with him. You’ll be calm.’

‘It’s all right, Susan,’ Miss Waters said. ‘He’ll be all right. Don’t worry yourself.’

In those fleeting moments Sam took in with surprise the gentle intimacy between the two women.

‘Oh, look after him!’ Mrs Fairford came to the door, her voice cracking as the tears came again. ‘Look after my little darling!’

‘You know I will,’ Miss Waters said tenderly as they stepped out into the night.

And then, apart from the sick little boy, Sam found himself alone with this woman whose presence had such a powerful effect on him.

The night was a little chill, but not uncomfortable, the sky an immense field of stars. As they moved round the side of the house the
chowkidar
, a stringy fellow with a cloth tied round his head, loomed in front of them and Miss Waters spoke to him immediately so that he nodded and backed away.

‘You speak Hindustani?’ Sam said, admiringly.

‘I’ve been here for some time now. You pick it up.’

Sam got the Daimler started and jumped into the driver’s seat. They set off, the road lit by the clear white light of the acetylene lamps.

‘You know the way?’

‘Of course,’ she snapped. A moment later, thinking perhaps that she had been impolite, Lily said, ‘He had a fit, you see. I don’t even know if we should be moving him, but Mrs Fairford was in such a panic and Dr Fothergill doesn’t reckon to hurry himself too much if you send for him. Sometimes he doesn’t ever arrive . . .’

‘I’m surprised the captain didn’t wake,’ Sam said. There’d been enough racket, after all.

Lily’s voice came back sharply. ‘He’s not there.’

‘What d’you mean?’ The captain had been at home for dinner.

‘He goes out sometimes at night.’ She almost snapped the words and Sam did not like to ask any more.

The doctor’s house was a mile and a half away, and for the rest of the journey Lily Waters spoke only to give terse instructions. Apart from the occasional grizzling cry, Cosmo stayed ominously silent. Once when Sam glanced at them, he thought he saw the child’s eyes open, but wasn’t sure. He could feel Lily Waters’s worry and tension beside him.

Dr Fothergill’s bungalow was a simple white building close to the road.

‘You stay sitting,’ Sam said gently. ‘At least until we’ve got an answer at the door.’

In the gloom he saw her give a faint smile which felt like a huge reward.

The house was all in darkness and as soon as Sam went near the front, the doctor’s watchman leaped up and started nattering at him but of course Sam couldn’t understand a word and knocked the door anyway. He expected to have to get through a battery of servants before reaching the doctor but, to his surprise, when the door swung open, there stood a very substantial white man with a bushy, grizzled beard, wearing a vast pair of pyjama trousers, his hairy chest and ample belly covered by nothing but a blanket draped round his shoulders. With one hand he held an oil lamp and with the other he was rubbing his portly abdomen in a soothing manner.

‘Yes?’ he boomed. ‘Who the devil are you?’

‘I’m Captain Fairford’s mechanic,’ Sam blurted, foolishly.

‘
What?
Charles Fairford? Well, what the blazes d’you want? Have you come to tinker with my motor car at one o’clock in the morning? What the devil’s the matter with you?’ A rather abrupt belch took the doctor by surprise as he finished speaking, followed by the groan of a man plagued by dismally acidic innards.

‘Their boy’s here with me in the car. He’s been taken ill – they said he had a fit.’

‘What – young Cosmo?’ Reluctantly, he was all attention now. ‘Well, speak up, man, do. You should have said before . . .’ Pulling the blanket closer round him he held the lamp high and came down to the car.

‘So, what’s up with this young fellow? Bring him into the house, um?’

He led them into a kind of snuggery, arranged with the rudimentary carelessness of a bachelor, with the usual animal trophies on the walls and very basic furnishings: chair and table, a mess of belongings and papers, a pair of boots slung to one side, a rug thrown on the floor. There was a thick smell of stale tobacco smoke.