A Garland of Marigolds (5 page)

We
stopped and
watched a pavement barber shaving his customer
from top
to toe.
His
tools seemed primitive in the extreme,
but his
fingers were deft and his patter a source of high amusement
to those
around him. Both he and his customer squatted
comfortably
on the curb. If I had tried it, I should have been
crippled in
a matter of minutes, and that as much as anything else
made me
appreciate the agility of all their movements.

A
cloud of yellowish smoke
hung over the city. It was only when I
saw
a small
child
lighting a
small
brazier on the pavement that I realized most
of
the people who lived in the city had no homes. They
lived on the pavement itself,
eating and sleeping, playing and
working on the same small patch
of ground. Some had found shelter
in shacks
that filled the few spaces between the houses that
belonged to the richer members
of the community. There was no privacy for anyone, but the families seemed to survive, the oldest
looking after the
youngest with loving hands while their parents
looked on with
justified pride.

Life
pulsated
on those streets. Vendors sold their goods, moneylenders
and
barbers carried out their services, tailors sewed their
goods,
using their toes to turn the handles of the battered
sewing machines
that must first have been used in another
era. Saris, brilliantly
colored, were laid out to dry. And
everywhere you looked was
the movement and enthusiasm of a people
who were really alive.

I
stopped at a
small store
that was
selling helpings of curry to the
passersby.

“
Where can
we
eat?
”
I asked
him, suddenly extremely hungry.
“
Do
we have to go back
to the hotel?
”

“
I
’
ll
take you to my favorite
restaurant, if you like,
”
he offered shyly.
“
It isn
’
t at
all grand, but it
’
s the real thing.
”

The
restaurant was small.
Somehow between the tables a couple
of female dancers gyrated
madly to the rhythm of an old man on
a flute-like instrument
that produced a curious, hypnotic sound.

Joseph chose a table in one corner. It was
lit by a single candle, that
added romance if not
enlightenment
to
what
we
were eating. A singer
took the place of the
dancers and
a
severe-looking waiter with
very fine features
and a thin narrow mouth took our order.

“
It
’
s
nice here,
”
he said
with pleasure as the waiter went away.
“
The
food is really Indian.
”

I
laughed.
“
I
’
m expecting great
things!
”
I
said.

His hand
met mine and took
firm possession
of
it.

“
If
you could have seen your
predecessor
...
”
he began.
It was strange, but I didn
’
t
in the least mind
flirting
with him.
“
I can
guess!
”
I retorted.

“
I
nearly fell over when
I
saw the
boss had brought you back with
him!
”
he added, his eyes
twinkling.

“
I take
my work very
seriously, too,
”
I said.

“
Too?
You mean
you
have time
for other things as well?
”

I
colored.
“
Yes, of course,
”
I
said. Joseph had a glint in his eyes that I
didn
’
t quite
like.
“
But my work comes first,
”
I added defensively.

“
You
’
re
too good to be true,
”
he said.
“
Tell me all about yourself!
”

I licked
my lips nervously.
“
There
isn
’
t much to tell. I
’
d rather hear about
you.
”

His eyes
snapped at
me.
“
I
’
m
an American. Isn
’
t that enough?
”
I
shook my head.
“
Tell me
about your job here.
”

He
leaned back
and relaxed in his chair, a slight smile on his face.

“
Certainly not. You
’
ll find out all about that quickly enough. I want you to see me as a man, not as a cog in the great Gideon
’
s machine!
”

I was startled into looking at him more closely. His chin quivered slightly and I was reminded again of the basic weakness of his face. But I liked him very much indeed, if only because, in some indescribable way, he reminded me of Timothy.

“
I don
’
t think you
’
ll ever be a cog to me,
”
I said gently.

His smile grew warmer.
“
Is that a promise?
”

I nodded my head solemnly.
“
It
’
s a promise.
”

His eyes fell to the table.
“
I can hardly ask more than that,
”
he said.

I was a little embarrassed by his seriousness, but at that moment the waiter brought our food and successfully distracted my attention. It was certainly the most delicious curry I had ever tasted, not as hot as I had expected, but with so many side dishes that I soon lost count. I recognized the desiccated coconut and one or two of the chutneys, and of course the sliced bananas, but the rest I had never seen before.

“
Shall we have some wine to go with it?
”
Joe asked.

I hesitated, wondering about the price. I had been told that it was impossible to have anything alcoholic in Delhi without paying a great deal of money and I was really wondering if Joseph could afford to throw his money away so recklessly.

“
No, I won
’
t,
”
I said carefully.

“
Oh, come on! One bottle won
’
t break the bank!
”
He gave the order to the waiter and then sat back looking very pleased with himself.
“
It will be the first seal on our friendship,
”
he added.

“
The first?
”

He grinned.
“
Why, yes, I have plans for the second, too!
”

I blushed, beginning to think that I was rapidly getting out of my depth. A more normal topic of conversation was more to my taste, and so it was with determination that I brought the subject back to wheat.

“
What sort of crops can I expect?
”
I began cheerfully.

“
It depends on which crops you are referring to,
”
he answered lightly.
“
If you
’
re referring to wheat, or sugar, or even rice, you can expect practically no return at all. But if you
’
re referring to other crops—
”

“
What other crops, Joe?
”
I asked innocently.

“
Oh, lies, dirt and disease.
”
He winked at me.
“
Or friends and neighbors, or even people to love—
”

My head lifted sharply.

“
I haven
’
t time for things like that!
”
I said sharply.

“
Now, Suki,
”
he reproved me,
“
you just said you had time for other things besides your work!
”

“
Not those other things!
”
I said stiffly.

But he only laughed.
“
But you forget,
”
he reminded me,
“
we
’
ve set a seal on our friendship. And if that can be broken, here
’
s another bond more difficult for you to forget.
”
He leaned over the table and caught up both my hands in his, kissing me lightly on the lips.

It was unfortunate that at that moment Gideon and Camilla came into the restaurant. I snatched my hands away from Joseph, but it was too late. A single glance was enough to tell that Gideon had seen the whole incident. I greeted him and his sister with flaming cheeks, doubly annoyed with myself. It was not only that I felt I had somehow failed Timothy, but I had hoped to give Gideon a quite different impression.

CHAPTER THREE

I
t
was still very early when Camilla crept into my room to see if I was awake.
She
padded over to the shuttered windows and pushed them open to let in the first gray light of the day.

“
Gideon has gone to pick up the new jeep, and expects us to be ready by the time he comes back.
”

I turned over and squinted against the light.

“
What time is it?
”
I asked.

“
It
’
s nearly six,
”
she said.

I turned back onto my side. It was the middle of the night!

“
What time will he be back?
”

Camilla shrugged her shoulders.
“
Goodness knows! He says the garage is just around the corner, but he
’
s been gone a little while now. You
’
d better get up and pack your things, otherwise he
’
ll start making rude remarks about the way you spend
your
evenings—unless you don
’
t mind!
”

I frowned.
“
Actually
I
don
’
t,
”
I said sourly.
“
Joseph—
”
I hesitated.
“
I think he was trying to be kind,
”
I ended with a rush. Camilla chuckled.

“
I
can
imagine!
”
she agreed enthusiastically.
“
Poor Joseph! If this place is anything like he described it to me yesterday, you must have arrived like
a
gift from the gods. I can
’
t think why you
’
re even hesitating about him. I think he
’
s awfully nice!
”

“
Yes,
”
I said,
“
I suppose he is. I don
’
t want to be precipitated into anything, though. He
’
s in such a hurry!
”

Camilla gazed
at
me solemnly.

“
Don
’
t tell me you are afraid of what Gideon thinks of you?
”
she asked.

I
shook my head, hoping that she would not detect the lie that was implicit in my response. I didn
’
t want to care what Gideon
thought,
but that was something a little different, as I knew quite
well.

“
I must get
up,
”
I said instead.

She blinked at me, still serious.

“
How old do you think Joe is?
”
she
asked.

I
swung my legs onto the floor and stood
up, pattering over to the
window to have a look at the day
for myself.

“
Does it matter?
”
I
replied
to Camilla
’
s question.

“
Of course
it
does! I reckon he
’
s about ten years older than I am, and
I
think that
’
s about right between a man and a woman, don
’
t
you?
”

“
Possibly,
”
I agreed.

“
Humph,
”
said Camilla.
“
Does that mean you have him all staked out for yourself?
”

“
Well, he certainly isn
’
t ten years older than I am!
”
I reminded her.

“
No-o,
”
she admitted uncertainly.
“
But you
’
re not old, and he is interested. In fact you might say you had a head start with him!
”

I went into the small bathroom and began to dress, leaving the door open so that I could still hear Camilla.

“
One could, if it were a race,
”
I said mildly.

She chuckled, a soft, very feminine noise in her throat.

“
Not a race,
”
she contradicted me,
“
a fight to the finish!
”

I hesitated in my dressing, wondering if she meant what she said. But Camilla was still very young and apt to wring the last bit of drama out of any remark. I finished dressing as quickly as I could and gathered up my night clothes to pack them away in my suitcase. Camilla was sitting on the end of my bed, her hair flowing free and a young and rather touching expression on her face. She looked up at me and her face fell into a genuine grin.

“
I suppose you
’
re cross with me for challenging your interest?
”
she said.

It was my turn to
laugh.
“
Good heavens, no! Joe Groton is nothing to me!
”

Camilla was satisfied.

“
No,
”
she said thoughtfully.
“
I dare say Gideon is much more your cup of tea. The trouble is he never sees anyone as a woman. My sister is always complaining about it. You see the truth is that we
’
re all dying to marry him off!
”

“
Oh, indeed!
”
I retorted.
“
Well, there
’
s not the slightest chance of your marrying him off to me, young lady! He
’
s a great deal too confident and full of himself to appeal to my sort of person.
”
Camilla turned on me, angry at any breath of criticism of her brother.

“
What a smug thing to say!
”
she stormed.

I sighed, acknowledging the truth of that. It was the way I had
been
brought up, I thought, sensibly and without much humor.

“
Exactly!
And your brother may be many things, but he
certainly isn
’
t
smug!
”

Camilla giggled.
“
He
says he thinks you
’
re
a
very cautious
young woman,
”
she told me. Perhaps
I was a bit tired,
but
I could
have sat down and cried.

It was a peculiar experience, having breakfast
in
the ornate and gigantic restaurant of the hotel. Two waiters in braided scarlet
coats and with stif
f
ly starched turbans, served us an incongruously English breakfast of eggs and bacon followed by toast
and
marmalade. Both Joseph and Camilla ate with concentrated pleasure. I thought it was rather hot for such a large meal and
was
beginning to wonder what had happened to Gideon and the
jeep.

He arrived, hot and more than a little irritable, just as we
were
finishing the last of the coffee.

“
Are you all ready?
”
he asked.

“
Of course we are!
”
his sister answered.
“
Where on earth
have
you been?
”

He sat down at the table and nodded to a waiter.

“
Getting the jeep,
”
he said with tight displeasure.
“
It was
promised for over an hour ago, but owing to some death in
the
family I had to wait for the funeral party to come back.
”

I realized that this was only the beginning of the story.

“
And then?
”
I prompted him.

His face relaxed into a smile.

“
And then the plugs needed cleaning, and they had to send for a mechanic.
”

“
Didn
’
t they have one?
”
Camilla asked, entering into the spirit
of
the story.

“
It appears not. I did it myself in the end and it
’
s working, so as soon as we
’
re all ready, we should be going.
”

It was, however, another hour before we were all settled in the
jeep.
Joe sat in the front beside Gideon and Camilla and I huddled in
the
back, both of us a trifle anxious that there seemed to be so very little to hold on to. We crawled out of Delhi, dodging the oxen carts and the weaving bicycles, going so slowly that we were almost used to our exposed position by the time we reached the outskirts and the open road.

The sun grew hotter and hotter, until the sky was like burning pewter. The hot, dry wind blew the dust into our faces drying our skins and making us long for some cool shade and the splash of running water. After a while Joseph took over the wheel from Gideon, driving with a harebrained desperation that ate up the miles but left us more exhausted than ever.

At last the heat of the day departed and it was evening.

“
Not much farther now!
”
Gideon said cheerfully. I tried to smile at him, but the dust had mixed with my perspiration, leaving
a
tight mask across my face. I rubbed my cheeks and my fingers came away red with the same dust.

“
Cheer up,
”
he said.
“
It
’
ll wash off easily enough. Besides, it
’
s rather fetching!
”

“
Nonsense!
”
I said roughly.

He and Camilla exchanged a humorous glance and I wished desperately that I had said nothing at all. Why I should care so much I couldn
’
t imagine. I had come to work and to fill in
two
years—nothing more than that.

Sol was stiff and rather wretched when we came to the
village.
Camilla waved to the children who came rushing out to greet
us,
but I was too busy looking at the extraordinary buildings
and the
small shrine around which the women were gathered.

The jeep pulled up outside a fair-sized bungalow. A
large
verandah went around all four sides of the house.

“
This is the central house of the station,
”
Joseph
told me.
“
Gideon and I sleep here and the laboratory and the records are kept at the back. You and Camilla are going to sleep
somewhere
else eventually, but come in meanwhile, and we
’
ll have something to eat.
”

We accepted the offer gratefully. Enormous fans
in
every room moved lazily, keeping the air comparatively cool,
and it was
bliss just to stand beneath one of them.

“
Memsahib,
”
said a small, soft voice at my
elbow. I
glanced down to see the most beautiful little creature
smiling gently
up at me. It was impossible to tell her age, but
the liquid
brown eyes held an age of wisdom that contrasted
vividly with the
youthful firmness of her flesh. She was dressed in
a vivid orange
sari that was edged with shocking pink and silver that somehow didn
’
t clash
but
was merely provocative to
the eye. With
infinite grace she
put her
palms together and raised
them
in front of her face in
the
time-honored Indian greeting. Her eyes lit up with laughter as
I clumsily
returned the greeting.

“
Y
ou
have
driven a long
way?
”
she asked.
“
You will need a bath and
clean
clothes. It is so
hot
at this time of year.
”