Cinnamon Gardens (43 page)

Manohari raised her eyebrows at Annalukshmi, as if to say that her sister had brought it on herself.

Annalukshmi narrowed her eyes and turned away.

After a moment, Seelan returned with the book, wrapped in brown paper.

He gave it to Annalukshmi and she reluctantly accepted it with a mumbled thank you. Then she and Manohari hurriedly left the bookshop.

The shaded portico outside Cargills was crowded with shoppers. Street vendors had laid out their wares on mats along the sidewalk and were calling out loudly to the passersby. There was a smell of camphor and incense.

“You’re a fine one,” Manohari said as they jostled their way through the crowd.

“Madness. I didn’t do a thing.” Annalukshmi looked at the parcel in her hand. The discomfort of having accepted his gift was beginning to wear off, replaced by a flutter of excitement at his gesture.

“There it is,” Manohari said.

Annalukshmi looked in the direction she was pointing and saw the Mudaliyar Navaratnam’s car.

“You see, Peri-Appa’s already there. He’ll never let us ride with him again.”

They began to walk quickly towards the grey-green Delahaye.

“You have to sit in the back with him,” Manohari said. “I’m not taking the scolding for your offence.”

She hurried ahead of Annalukshmi and got into the front seat. Annalukshmi had no choice but to sit in the back with the Mudaliyar. She glanced at him as she got in. He was clearly displeased. “I’m sorry, Peri-Appa,” she said. “I was delayed choosing a book.”

The Mudaliyar did not reply. He waved his hand for his driver to proceed. They sat in uncomfortable silence. The Mudaliyar glanced at the parcel that Annalukshmi had placed between them, almost as a barricade. “One mustn’t waste one’s money on frivolities, thangachi,” he said.

Annalukshmi looked down at her feet. The Mudaliyar disapproved of her reading habit because he said, “It puts too many ideas into a young girl’s head.”

He inclined his head towards the parcel. “Well, open it, open it. Let’s see what frippery you’ve bought this time.”

She tore open the brown paper and handed the book to him. When he saw the binding, she noticed his eyes widen at her extravagance. He opened the book and looked at the first page, frowning, then snapped the book shut and handed it back to her. She glanced at him anxiously, but he was staring out of the window.

Kumudini was, of course, informed of the meeting with Dr. Govind the moment they got home. Her eyes widened with excitement when Manohari, now relishing the drama, described the way he had held Annalukshmi’s arm, an almost tearful look in his eyes.

“Show the book, akka,” Kumudini cried. “Open it, open it.”

Annalukshmi took the book out of its wrapping, and Kumudini exclaimed over the expensive binding as if it were further proof of Dr. Govind’s admiration for her sister. Annalukshmi opened the book and drew in her breath when she saw that he had written an inscription. “May our joy of reading strengthen our regard for each other. Dr. Govind.”

Her sisters had crowded behind her and they read it too.

“Our regard!” Kumudini cried in delight.

“What he means is ‘strengthen our love,’ ” Manohari declared.

“Oh, akka, I am so happy for you.” Kumudini hugged Annalukshmi, as if Dr. Govind had proposed to her.

Annalukshmi continued to stare at the dedication, which she now realized the Mudaliyar had seen. Kumudini was right after all. When they met Dr. Govind outside Brighton, he was waiting in the hope of meeting her. Annalukshmi felt a quick rush of pleasure go through her. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes when he had touched her arm. In that moment, his formal manner had fallen away and she had glimpsed the person he might really be. With his face flushed, his eyes bright, he had been handsome.

The Mudaliyar felt as if his mind would shatter from the realization he had made. His grandson was in Colombo! The
moment he had seen that name on the book, he had remembered his wife’s question at dinner two nights ago. Then there was her absence at lunch yesterday, an event which, in itself, should have made him realize that something was afoot. Yet he had been engrossed in the family affairs, which were not going well under the current manager, and he had not thought very much about it. He had asked Pillai where his wife was and had been told that she had gone to visit his son. Everything fell into place. His son had brought his grandson to Ceylon! What did he hope to achieve by this? Balendran could not possibly imagine that he would receive the boy in his house? Balendran could not possibly think he would acknowledge that grandchild and thus open himself up to scandal again.

The Mudaliyar thought of the shame and embarrassment when Arul had gone away with Pakkiam to India. He recalled the first time he had got up to speak in the Legislative Council, after the scandal became public. There had been a collective titter from his opponents. He was used to opposition, even welcomed the challenge of a good debate, the exchange of repartee. But this had been different. He had felt completely defenceless, as if he himself had committed a crime.

An anger began to grow in him now. What was his son thinking? Did he want to bring scandal on his head in his old age, when he no longer had the strength to withstand it? A knot of hurt began to build in the Mudaliyar’s chest. He leant his head back against the car seat and breathed in deeply.

When the car came to a stop at Brighton, Pillai hurried down the steps and opened the door. The Mudaliyar got out and Pillai bowed respectfully.

When the Mudaliyar came into the vestibule, he found his wife waiting for him.

Pillai had come in with his parcels. As the Mudaliyar looked at him, he felt certain that he, too, knew about his grandson.

“Shall I have lunch served?” Nalamma asked.

He stared at his wife as if he had not heard her.

“If you would rather eat later, that would be fine.”

“In an hour,” he said and went towards the stairs. “I wish to lie down for a little.”

Usually he walked up unaided, yet today he felt tired and he held on to the banister as he went up. When he reached the landing, he turned to see his wife and Pillai looking up at him. The two people he trusted the most, the two he felt he could count on for absolute obedience and loyalty had betrayed him.

From where he lay on his bed, the Mudaliyar could see over the trees into the front garden of Lotus Cottage. He remembered the dedication in that book. “May our joy of reading strengthen our regard for each other.”

The Mudaliyar sat up in bed. This boy was making love to his grand-niece and she reciprocated his feelings, for she had accepted the book from him. The reason the girls had been delayed this morning was because of a tryst with that young man. A secret one, obviously, otherwise he would have come to Lotus Cottage as any other decent suitor would have. It was clear that the mother, Louisa, knew nothing.

The Mudaliyar began to form an image in his mind of his grandson. It was not a pleasant one – deceit and wilfulness. Slyness, boastfulness, sloth. The desire to rise up by any means, at the expense of anyone. The young man had arranged to meet his niece secretly. He was a seducer of the worst kind.

The Mudaliyar rang his bell and waited for Pillai to come up to him. His first task was to subjugate his retainer, make him realize his precarious position in this house, that if he, the Mudaliyar, chose, he could reduce him to penury. The threat would ensure that Pillai would be his faithful eyes and ears in the days to come.

L
ouisa had a ladies’ auxiliary meeting at the church on Tuesday. Kumudini, determined to facilitate the progress of her sister’s friendship with Dr. Govind, and knowing her sister’s likely reluctance, took matters into her own hands and decided to invite Dr. Govind to tea in her mother’s absence. Her mother, who had never learnt of his first visit, would likely not approve of her matchmaking, or of them entertaining a man when she was not at home. Kumudini also knew she could count on the servants’ silence. She worded the invitation carefully, for she judged Dr. Govind to be shy, like an untrained colt, capable of bolting if one moved too swiftly on him. She sent Ramu with a note to her uncle’s house. Ramu returned an hour later with the reply that the “Aiyah from India would be very happy to oblige.” Kumudini and Letchumi then set about planning the tea.

When Kumudini told Annalukshmi that Dr. Govind was coming for tea, Annalukshmi scolded her sister for not consulting her first, but instantly she felt a mixture of panic and delight. Since the encounter with Dr. Govind at Cargills’ bookshop, he
had been constantly on her mind. Even though she knew so little about him, her imagination had not been deterred. Her realization of his handsomeness filled his mouth with words of ardour; the warmth of his hand against her arm transformed in her mind into the urgent tenderness with which he would give her pleasure. With the exception of her Uncle Balendran, she did not know another man who read anything more than a newspaper. She held those who truly appreciated literature to be thoughtful, refined, sensitive souls like herself. They were people who looked at life and saw the poetry within it. The understanding that Dr. Govind was such a person raised him high in her esteem.

A few evenings later, Annalukshmi accompanied Kumudini on her evening walk along Horton Place. They took their umbrellas with them as the sky was darkening overhead and there was a faint rumble of thunder. For a while, they walked in silence, both of them lost in thought, then Annalukshmi turned to her sister and said, “Tell me, Kumu, are you truly happy?”

“Well, there is no such thing as a perfect husband, akka.”

“But Muttiah is kind to you, isn’t he?”

Kumudini was silent for a moment. “Can I trust you with something, as one sister to another?”

“Of course, Kumu.”

“There are … difficulties. I have come to learn that there is a problem with my husband.”

Annalukshmi’s eyes widened and she turned to look at her sister.

“He has a terrible weakness. For gambling. Please, akka, you must not tell anyone.”

Annalukshmi said that her secret was guarded.

“After we were married, Appa put Muttiah in charge of the rubber estate, as he is getting rather old to look after it himself. We have since learnt that Muttiah has been drawing money for gambling from the estate. Appa had to take back control, especially when Muttiah tried to sell a portion of the estate. Certain problems fell on my shoulders too. It was not possible to leave until they were resolved. I couldn’t tell Amma, but that is what kept me from coming sooner.”

“Oh, Kumu, I am so sorry. Is there anything we should do?”

“No. Things have a way of resolving themselves. Anyway, what is to be done?” She smiled. “One must go on.”

It had now begun to drizzle. They opened their umbrellas and turned back towards Lotus Cottage. As they reached the gate, Kumudini said to her sister, “Look at Dr. Govind. If the two of you grow fond of each other, you must not have unrealistic expectations. He is human like the rest of us, and therefore not perfect.”

“Really, Kumu. I’m not about to have expectations of a man I hardly know.”

Once they got home and she was alone, Annalukshmi thought of the image of Dr. Govind she had constructed and she saw that she had indeed made him into a perfect lover. She had given him a passion she did not know he had; she had attributed to his formality a shyness and sensitivity that might not be there at all. Her sister was right. She had to be realistic.