Cinnamon Gardens (19 page)

Sylvia Van Der Hoot’s little whisperings had a greater effect than either she or Kumudini could have predicted.

A few days later, Louisa was in the garden supervising Ramu as he trimmed the roses when she heard a shrill “Cousin!” She turned to see Philomena Barnett making her way up the front path, waving her hand excitedly. Louisa sent Ramu to the kitchen for a glass of thambili. She removed her hat and went up the garden to meet her cousin. As she stepped up onto the verandah, Cousin Philomena, who had reached the verandah by now, cried out, “Such good news, cousin, such good news.”

Then she refused to say any more until she had her glass of thambili. “Cousin!” she said once she was done. “Another inquiry has arrived.”

“For Annalukshmi? How thrilling!”

“No, cousin. Not for Annalukshmi. For Kumudini.”

Louisa sat down in a chair, astounded. “But … but who is it?”

“Ronald Nesiah, son of D. S. Nesiah,” Philomena said triumphantly. “
Doctor
Ronald Nesiah.”

Louisa breathed out. The son of D. S. Nesiah. The man people said would be the first chief justice, if the position were ever opened up to a Ceylonese. “How … where did he see Kumudini?”

“It seems he is a good friend of Mrs. Van Der Hoot’s son. He has met her there.”

“But what do we know about him?”

“Cousin,” Philomena said with a smile, “what is there to know with a family like that?”

She leant forward in her chair. “Now, I know Annalukshmi has to be married first. But it won’t hurt to look into this proposal. Mrs. Nesiah has asked to see you in person. To discuss the matter further.”

Louisa narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “Couldn’t we wait until Annalukshmi’s proposal is settled?”

“The truth is, Mrs. Nesiah has received another proposal for her son. But he kept putting it off, putting it off, and no one knew why. Then yesterday he came home and mentioned Kumudini. That’s why the mother wants to see you, so she can decide what to do about the other proposal.”

Louisa was silent.

“Cousin, this is a golden opportunity. Don’t let it slip. After all, your options are not many, all things considered.”

Louisa understood that Philomena was speaking of Annalukshmi and her “reputation,” which might put off suitors for the other girls. After a moment, Louisa nodded and said she agreed to the meeting.

Once Philomena Barnett had left, the reality of the news she had brought sunk in. Louisa felt joy, but at the same time
concern as to just how far things had progressed between Kumudini and this Dr. Nesiah. She felt anxious that there had been improprieties in their relations.

Kumudini generally got back before her sisters, but today she was delayed. By the time she arrived, Annalukshmi and Manohari were already seated at the dining table about to begin lunch. Louisa could not bear to wait until lunch was over and she said to Kumudini, “I want to speak to you. In my room.”

Kumudini looked at her, alarmed.

Annalukshmi and Manohari glanced at their mother too. Kumudini had done something wrong. This was indeed a novelty.

The moment Louisa and Kumudini had gone into her room, Manohari got up from the table and made her way stealthily towards her mother’s door.

“Chutta,” Annalukshmi began to protest, but Manohari held up her hand to silence her. Since Annalukshmi, too, was keen to know what this was about, she did not object further.

The moment Louisa had shut the door behind her, she turned to Kumudini. “I have some news. Another proposal has come.”

“How wonderful, Amma!” Kumudini said, relieved that her mother’s seriousness was not due to some misdemeanour of hers.

“Not for Annalukshmi. For you.”

Kumudini stared at Louisa, then her face became red.

“I suppose I don’t have to tell you who it is.”

Kumudini was silent.

“Merlay, you haven’t … you know … given him any encouragement.”

“No, Amma,” Kumudini cried.

The insulted look in her daughter’s eyes comforted Louisa.

“Good,” she said. “I didn’t think you had.”

She proceeded to tell Kumudini everything that Philomena had told her. When she was done, she said to Kumudini, “What do you think of the young man? Are you interested?”

Kumudini looked away from her, but Louisa saw the brightness in her eyes.

“Well, we shall see what happens with Mrs. Nesiah,” Louisa said. “Meanwhile, merlay, you must maintain the strictest formalities with this young Nesiah. It would not do for people to say that you flung yourself at him.”

Kumudini nodded.

Louisa crossed to the door.

Manohari, hearing her mother’s footsteps, ran back to the dining table and sat down. She had just enough time to whisper, “A proposal. For Kumudini, akka,” before her mother and sister came out. Manohari began to dish out some rice for herself, an innocent expression on her face.

Annalukshmi’s astounded look, however, gave it all away. Louisa frowned and Kumudini blushed again.

“Well, I guess there is nothing to tell
you
,” Louisa said.

“But what … who is the boy?” Annalukshmi cried.

Louisa explained who he was and how it had come about. While she did so, Annalukshmi continued to stare at her sister.

“Congratulations, Kumu,” she cried. She got up from the table, came around to her sister, and gave her a big hug.

Kumudini, completely overwhelmed, burst into tears.

“Now, now,” Louisa said mildly, as she poured the rasam out into cups, “let’s not count our chickens before they’re hatched.”
That afternoon, Mrs. Van Der Hoot showed them how to cut sari blouses. As Kumudini stood around with the other girls, following what was being done, she thought of all she had learnt at the School for Ladies and how it might now have a practical use. As she looked at the blouse patterns, she imagined her own wedding, the sari she would pick for herself, the bridesmaids, the flower arrangements. Then there was married life – the new house to be decorated and taken care of. She had always known exactly what she wanted in her home, what fabric for the curtains and serviettes, what design of crockery.

Ronald Nesiah did not come by that afternoon with the other house officers, and Kumudini, though disappointed, admired him for his discretion. As she sat out the dancing class, she felt as if she were already a matron, watching with interest this year’s debutantes, judging them from the comfortable position of someone who no longer had to put herself forward for a husband.

Philomena Barnett, not being one to procrastinate, arranged the meeting between Louisa and Mrs. Nesiah a few days later. It was to take place at the Nesiah residence on Rosmead Place, which was just two streets away from Horton Place.

Louisa was surprised that, despite D. S. Nesiah’s reputation as a lawyer, the house was modest. It was a one-storey bungalow, well kept, the garden in impeccable condition.

A houseboy ushered them to some chairs on the verandah and went to fetch his mistress. The doors to the drawing room were open and they saw him knock on Mrs. Nesiah’s door and tell her she had visitors. To their surprise, Mrs. Nesiah did not
come out immediately. Ten minutes passed and she still did not appear. Louisa leant over and whispered, “Cousin, was it eleven o’clock she asked us to come?”

“Yes, yes,” Philomena replied.

Another five minutes passed and Louisa was about to ask her cousin if she were sure she had got the day right when Mrs. Nesiah’s door opened. She came across the drawing room to the verandah. Rather than acknowledge their presence at once, she directed the houseboy to bring out two glasses of lime juice. Then, with a slight nod and a smile, she sat in the chair across from them. She looked at them expectantly, almost as if she did not know why they had come. Philomena sat forward in her chair. “Louisa, this is Rani Nesiah. Rani, this is my cousin, Louisa.”

Louisa and Mrs. Nesiah nodded at each other.

Mrs. Nesiah, Louisa noted, was one of those very dark-skinned women who insisted on wearing talcum powder, which gave her a strange greyish colour, like a corpse.

Mrs. Nesiah waited until the houseboy had served their drinks, then said abruptly, “About this proposal, anyway.” They waited for her to continue, but she was silent again. “You know we have had another one, too. A girl from a very good family and we have to consider your daughter in the light of this other proposal.”

Louisa watched her carefully, wondering where this was leading.

“Ronald has to complete his studies. He must go to England to get his F.R.C.S. With just Ceylonese qualifications, he will be good for nothing. The thing is, we cannot afford to send him. So we are looking for a girl whose family will educate him in England. That must be part of the dowry.”

They stared at her in shock.

Louisa sat back, feeling her heart sink. Educating a husband in England was an expensive venture, more than Kumudini’s share of the estate would cover.

Philomena was the first to recover. “How … how much would it cost?”

Mrs. Nesiah stated the figure.

Louisa sighed. It was far beyond anything they could afford. Mrs. Nesiah turned to her. “Ronald’s education is very important to us. I’m sorry, but you must understand that.” She waited for some acknowledgement of this fact and, after a moment, Louisa nodded.

Mrs. Nesiah stood to indicate that the meeting was over. “Thank you for taking the time to come,” she said. Then, without waiting for them to even go down the verandah steps, she turned and went into the house.

By the time Louisa reached the road, she was furious. She opened her umbrella with a snap and began to walk briskly towards Albert Crescent. Philomena had to hurry to keep up with her, not even having a chance to open her umbrella. “The cheek,” Louisa cried. She stopped and turned to her cousin. “How dare she treat us like that, as if we were beggars?”

She stalked away again. Philomena opened her umbrella and went after her.

“Who do they think they are?” Louisa said. “Just because their son is a doctor they can treat people like dirt!”

“Unfortunately, that is the way it is, cousin,” Philomena said placatingly. “If you have a doctor for a son, you can ask for the world and get it.”

“I’m glad Kumudini is not marrying into that family. Very glad indeed.” Yet, even as she said it, Louisa felt a keen disappointment. She slowed her pace and they walked along in silence.

“Well,” Louisa said, trying to cheer herself up, “other offers will come along. And, besides, there is Annalukshmi’s proposal to look forward to.”

“I’m sure that will go very well, cousin,” Philomena said soothingly. “I have given the photograph and so far nothing. But no news is good news.”

Louisa could not help being troubled. This meeting had made her realize just how small the girls’ dowries were once the rubber estate in Malaya was divided amongst them.

Philomena hailed a rickshaw at the top of Horton Place and they parted company. Louisa walked back to Lotus Cottage, every now and again shaking her head. She would have to face Kumudini and tell her what had happened.

When Louisa got home, Kumudini had already come back from the School for Ladies, anxious to find out the result of the meeting. She was tidying the glass-fronted bookshelf in the drawing room, taking the books out and wiping them with a feather duster. When she saw her mother, she continued to busy herself, not wanting to appear eager.

Louisa had seen her daughter’s darting look and a sense of dread took hold of her. She came in and put her umbrella away in the stand by the front door. Then she sat down on the drawing-room sofa. “Come here, Kumudini,” she said and indicated to the spot next to her.

A shiver of excitement went through Kumudini. She came and sat down on the sofa, her duster still in her hand.

Louisa felt a throb of sorrow for her daughter. “My dear,” she said.

Kumudini held her breath, waiting for her mother to speak.

“I’m afraid it’s bad news. They have refused.”

“Refused?” Kumudini said incredulously.

“We … we just don’t have the sort of dowry they want. It seems that Ronald, their son … there is the F.R.C.S. he must do in England.”

Kumudini got up and went to the bookshelf. She took out a book and began to dust it. She was curiously calm, yet she was aware that calmness was not the appropriate reaction. She tried to think why she was so collected, then realized that she knew this refusal could not be genuine. There had been a mistake. Ronald was enamoured of her. He had told Sylvia’s brother that over and over again. He would not be moved by such considerations as the size of her dowry. She was confident that Ronald, once he had heard about the interview, would be furious and would rectify the situation. Her mother had not reckoned on the strength of Ronald’s feelings.