The Letter (19 page)

Sergeant
Waters
gave
me
a
note
to
give
to
you
if
I
reached
Nainital.
I’m
sorry
but
it
was
months
ago
and
the
hospital
there
said
you’d
been
posted
out.
They
wouldn’t
give
me
your
address
but
offered
to
send
a
letter
on,
so
I
hope
this
reaches
you.

Sorry
for
the
delay,

Sandy
Green

The enclosed grubby envelope contained an equally grubby scrap of paper:

Dear
Margaret,

Excuse
this
pencilled
note.
I
know
you
are
married
and
can
only
ever
be
a
friend
to
me
but
I
will
never
forget
you
as
I
think
you
are
the
most
generous
woman
I
have
ever
met.
I
would
give
anything
to
meet
you
again.

I
can’t
tell
you
much
about
what
I’ve
been
doing,
except
to
say
that
I
have
seen
things
I
never
thought
men
could
do
to
others.
The
memories
of
riding
out
with
you
and
our
time
together
by
the
lake
kept
me
going.

Don’t
worry
if
you
can’t
write
back.
I’ll
understand.
Meanwhile
God
Bless
You,

Your
loving
friend,

Tommy

Thank goodness for Tommy’s straightforward approach
to life.
There was no address to reply to so she wrote care of The Bush Warfare School, enclosing the Delhi hospital address.

The discovery of Ben’s affair with Olivia and his barbaric removal of the children had crushed her. Scot and Indian, Hindu and Catholic, Margaret had striven to yoke the opposing cultures but lately she despised the grovelling and pretence. Tommy didn’t deserve to be caught up in this but she didn’t want to give him up. Maybe she was no better than Ben? She hadn’t had an affair but Tommy’s kiss had warned her of the risk she was taking. It was silly, for they hardly knew each other and might not meet again. However, while she remained married there was a slight chance she might rescue the children. Yet, she felt unfaithful to Tommy in trying to save her marriage.

A change of location to the busy city hospital was welcome. Margaret didn’t know how long she would stay but the central quarters were perfect for shopping. However, she was feeling unwell and couldn’t make the most of it. She spent her time off duty resting. No doubt it was nothing and would pass. A letter from Ben led her to believe there was a possibility of retrieving something from their relationship. She replied at once.

Lady Irwin Hospital

New Delhi

My
Dearest
Ben,

Thank
you
so
much
for
your
letter
and
the
note
and
drawing
from
Pavia.
I
am
so
glad
you
are
OK.
I
was
worried
at
not
hearing
from
you
for
some
time.

Well
your
letter
was
short
but
full
of
news.
I
am
puzzled
when
you
write
that
you
are
alone
with
the
children.
No
my
dear,
Suleka
gave
me
no
news
of
you.
I
don’t
know
why
I
feel
so
jealous
but
I
can’t
bear
to
think
of
you
with
anyone
else.
Later
I’ll
be
with
you.
Please
excuse
this
outburst.
I
thought
I
was
getting
hard
natured
but
I
believe
you
will
always
be
able
to
break
me.

My
dear,
my
final
exams
will
be
on
the
15th
of
this
month.
I
hope
I
am
all
right
until
then,
but
these
haemorrhages
are
taking
a
lot
out
of
me
and
now
my
temperature
stays
up
all
day.
I
think
its
just
weakness
because
I
can’t
eat
much
food
without
being
sick.
Of
course,
now
you
are
back
in
India,
I
eat
neither
meat
nor
eggs,
and
as
this
is
the
main
food
available
here,
I
often
go
dinnerless.
I
don’t
know.
I
simply
can’t
look
at
the
meat.
It
reminds
me
of
the
many
operated
bodies
I
see
in
the
ward.

My
dear,
I
sent
my
father’s
air
graph
just
because
I
thought
you’d
like
to
read
it.
I
don’t
know
why
he
mentioned
that
my
nursing
would
be
useful
to
me
when
I
returned
home.

Tell
me
the
truth,
are
you
anxious
for
me
to
go
and
leave
this
land?
These
miserable
days
without
the
children
make
me
realise
how
near
to
heaven
I
was
with
them.
The
beauty
of
the
life
I
led
has
only
struck
me
now.
Up
till
then
I
saw
only
the
hardships.
Oh
Ben
you
will
never
realise
the
torture
in
my
heart!
So
much
so
that
I
feel
life
so
hard
that
death
is
very
welcome.
No,
it
is
not
the
work
I
have
to
do.
It
is
very
interesting
and
I
like
it.
If
only
the
circumstances
had
been
different
and
I
was
with
our
children.
Day
and
night
I
am
haunted.
I
just
want
to
die
unwept
because
I
have
lost
those
who
would
have
cried
for
me
and
respected
my
name
in
death.
You
could
change
it
all.

My
thoughts
are
for
our
children
and
your
happiness
and
contentment
that
is
the
prayer
of
my
heart.

Love
to
you
and
the
children

Charuni

*  *  *  *  *

Ben telephoned. He was coming to Delhi and bringing Pavia. Margaret wasn’t going to waste a second in wondering why. She went shopping, flitting from stall to stall in the market buying ribbons and pretty slides for her daughter’s hair, gaudy glass bracelets, embroidered handkerchiefs, books and aquamarine patterned cloth to make Pavia a dress. They could go to the tailors together. Ben would book them into a hotel. She’d pack a bag… be ready to go with them. They could talk, sort out the differences. And most important, she would be with Pavia.