part0030

Greystone entered the compound of his bungalow where the silver-oak trees shading the coffee bushes ended and the open area of garden began. It was nearing 12:45 in the afternoon. The sun was scorching and the air throbbed with heat.

The figure that had been hiding among the coffee shrubs detached itself and approached him. The man talked long and seriously to John. To anyone who was near enough to see without being sufficiently close to hear, it would appear that both men were in deadly earnest.

Over the face of the listener passed several changing emotions. The first was disbelief, mingled with resentment against the speaker. As the man went on and seemed to establish his veracity, other expressions crossed Greystone's handsome countenance.

Came incredulous surprise followed by pained shock. Then the light of indignant anger. Finally, a look of cold fury and hunger for revenge. Last of all was an expression difficult to comprehend. It appeared one of deep cunning and extreme cruelty. Whatever it was that the man had told him, one fact was certain. John Greystone had not liked hearing it. It had upset him terribly.

"I would never have thought it", he said softly to himself, and then aloud, "Thank you for telling me". The man vanished into the coffee from whence he had come.

When John entered the bungalow, it was past 1 o'clock, and even inside the building the air was oppressive' still. His khaki shirt showed two dark patches of perspiration under the armpits and another between the shoulder-blades, where it clung to him. Sweat ran down both cheeks and forehead as he removed his solar topee. His hair was dank with it and he brought a musty smell of body odour into the room.

"Phew! It's blasted hot!" he ejaculated, "I'm sweating like a pig and can't sit down to lunch in this state. I think I'll take a cold shower first. Have you eaten, Ruth?"

His wife was lying on the sofa. That was her usual place. But this time there was a difference. A handkerchief lay across her forehead and covered both eyes. It was saturated with eau-de-cologne and the scent hung heavily in that close atmosphere.

In a dull voice, she muttered, "I don't want lunch, John. I've got a splitting headache".

Her husband crossed over to the sofa solicitously and laid the back of his right hand against one of her cheeks. No; her skin was quite cool. She didn't appear to have any fever. To check his diagnosis, John picked up Ruth's hand and felt her pulse.

She certainly had no fever.

"How are the bowels?" he asked. "Free?"

Without moving her head or taking the wet cloth away, Ruth answered, "Yes".

"Did you eat anything out of the way? Anything indigestible?" he inquired.

"No" she answered in a low voice, "I ate only what you ate, both for dinner last night and breakfast this morning".

"Perhaps it's the weather. I'll make you a dose of Liver Salts", he offered. "Half an hour later, swallow two Aspro tablets with a cup of hot tea. That'll do the trick. You'll be okay by evening".

He went to the pantry where the medicines were kept to mix the Salts. As his footfalls faded, a mocking smile flitted across Ruth's countenance.

Was it a strange coincidence that while he was busy in the pantry, John also wore a similar smirk?

In spite of the salts and the Aspros and the hot tea, Ruth's headache did not abate one bit. She ate nothing for lunch or tea in the evening and instead of dinner, she drank a tumbler-full of warm Ovaltine.

Half the night she kept John awake, moaning in a low tone and complaining about her headache. "I'm sure it's due to my eyes" she muttered, "I must have them tested".

A little later she had an idea. "Perhaps it's not my eyes at all, John. Maybe I'm coming in for a tumour".

At 3 o'clock Ruth was still restless. "John" she called from the depths of her pillow, "I remember reading somewhere that typhoid fever begins with an in tolerable headache. I wonder if I'm coming in for that".

Her husband appeared strangely unsympathetic.

"As likely as not this headache is the forerunner of a bout of malaria", she said later.

Greystone merely grunted.

Ruth could act passably well when she had some purpose in view and felt it was worth the trouble. And this time she certainly had one.

The following morning, she said, "I've still got this headache. It's so severe and extends from my right eye and temple to the top of my head. It's no better than yesterday; if anything, worse".

She was not well enough to sit with her husband at the breakfast table and again when he came home in the jeep for lunch. Nor did she eat anything. Chandra served tea and heard her saying, "John dear; if this headache does not get better by tonight, please let me have the jeep tomorrow morning I'll go down to Nilambur and have myself attended to, even if it means' staying over a day or two.

"But don't worry about me, my dear. I know you can't leave the plantation just now. I'll be alright by the time I return".

John Greystone felt happy at hearing those words. He had been wondering how to avoid accompanying her. Such a trip would not at all fall in with the plan that had come to his mind. He was glad Ruth had solved the problem for him.

"Do you think you will be fit enough to drive the jeep all that way?" he asked.

"Oh yes", she told him, "perhaps the fresh air and the concentration of driving will keep my mind off the wretched headache. I'm sure my eyes are to blame”

"But you won't be able to get glasses in less than a week", he reminded her. "The doctor may have to send down to Calicut for the lenses".

Ruth saw her chance and took it. "If it comes to that, I'll go to Calicut myself. Or remain a few days at Nilambur till the lenses arrive". After a moment, she added, "Of course I shall do my best to hurry back to you".

"I know you will", John said enigmatically.

They left it at that.

Towards evening Ruth complained, "Its growing worse and spreading. I feel spasmodic pains all over. They come and go, but are not like the steady pain that racks the right side of my head so terribly. Maybe it is just nerve sympathy".

She ate no dinner again but drank Ovaltine and smoked half a packet of Capstans, the two Aspros, washed down with brandy and soda did not relieve her much.

As he was serving the coffee, Chandra could not help overhearing his master saying, "Yes darling, your condition cannot be neglected any longer. Are you sure you would not like me to drive you down to Nilambur tomorrow?" And he heard Ruth reply,

"Certainly not at a time like this, John. Why, the idea is preposterous. You can't leave just now. I'll go alone and will be alright. But don't be worried if I'm delayed a little. The doctor may want me to remain a day or two".

Into Chandra's eyes sprang a gleam of thoughtful cunning as an idea slowly formed itself in his mind.