Soma was freezing. It was warm enough in the house, but the minute you stepped out, it was awful. Out on the street the cold was brutal. Madam had lent her a hat, which at least covered her head and ears, but her neck, which felt cold anyway now her hair was gone, felt raw and painful. Even inside the warm shop, she couldn’t shake the chill that had sunk into her bones. She checked the blanket that was tucked around Louie. He was looking at the bright lights of the shopping mall ceiling from his nice, warm cocoon of a pram. His eyes were huge and dark brown. He really was the most beautiful baby.
Madam was marching them through a large clothes shop. She was dragging a plastic basket on wheels behind her, picking up clothes and tossing them in. Every so often, she would turn and hold something up against Soma, and decide for or against it. It was like shopping with a machine gun.
‘Let me see if this would fit.’ Madam held up a chunky woolly top. ‘Turn around.’
Obediently, Soma turned and felt the top being placed against her shoulders. She held a long sleeve against Soma’s arm. ‘Hmm. It’s a bit big.’
‘I can hem it.’ The words came out before she had time to consider them. She could sew by hand, if necessary, but give her an overlocker and she could speed through dozens of garments in an hour. The ‘Juki machine’ job at the factory had paid well. She had always held a small amount back before she handed her weekly pay over to her mother. Without that, she would never have managed to find the bus fare to leave.
She wondered how many of the garments in this shop had been pressed to a sewing machine with tired fingers like hers.
‘That’s useful,’ Madam said. ‘In that case, we’ll take it. Remind me to get some thread that matches.’
‘Yes Madam.’
Louie fidgeted and made a face. Soma leaned over him. ‘Baby?’
He made another face, his expression one of extreme concentration. Then the smell wafted up. Soma looked around. What did she do? She needed to change his nappy, but she couldn’t do it here. Outside was too cold. She looked around and could see nothing but racks of clothes. ‘Madam?’ she said, tentatively.
Madam looked up from where she was rifling through a rail of jumpers. ‘What is it?’
‘Baby needs changing…’
Madam looked at her blankly.
‘I don’t know where is best…’
‘Ah,’ said Madam. ‘Of course. You don’t know about baby changing facilities. Come. Follow me. I’ll show you what we do.’
The toilet with the baby on the door was huge, but it was still a squash with two adults and the pram in it. Louie’s wailing, bounced around the small space, making it feel even more cramped. Madam pulled down a plastic ledge. Soma stared. Was the baby supposed to go on that? Madam then pulled a padded mat and some plastic packs from the bag that hung over the back of the pram. She looked expectantly at Soma, who had no idea what she was meant to do next.
Madam let out a controlled sigh. ‘Lie Louie on the mat.’
Soma took the baby out and laid him gently on the mat, her hand cradling his head. She had hoped that the first time she changed a nappy, she could do it by herself. She had watched cousins change their babies before, but they all wore cloth nappies. What was she supposed to do with all those plastic packets? Where did used nappies go? Madam was expecting her to change Louie now. Hesitantly, she worked the poppers on his little trousers, all the while shushing him.
Clearly, she was taking too long, because Madam clicked her tongue. ‘Let me do it. Watch.’
Soma watched carefully and noted the ritual of wiping down the mat, the cream that went on the baby’s bottom, the special bin for the used nappy. Madam seemed to sense her observation and looked up. ‘You’ll have to do it the next time,’ she said. ‘When I’m away at work, you will be in charge of looking after the baby.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t want you two to sit at home all day. It’s not good for either of you. I will show you the park. You have to take him there. He likes to look at the trees and the fresh air is good for him.’
Madam had a long list of things that she thought were good for Louie. All well and good, Soma thought, but she didn’t seem to include time with his mother on that list. Her own mother had always been around when she was a child, a reassuring, smiling presence. That had been before, of course. When her father was still alive and life was still good.
She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that life now. This was real life now. This tiny family, with their tall, tall house that separated them from everyone else.
Louie was adorable. His mother’s views on childcare were probably how they did things in this country. She couldn’t have any confrontation anyway. She had to watch and learn and keep her head down so that no one gave her too much attention.
By the afternoon Soma was exhausted. The constant cold was helped by the new puffy coat, scarf, gloves and hat, but it still bit at her face, ears and eyelids. Signs she couldn’t read clamoured for her attention and she struggled to understand what people said. When Madam finally loaded them onto a bus, she sank down next to the pram, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes.
In the pram, Louie was asleep after having a full bottle of milk, warmed up in a microwave that was tucked away in a special ‘baby feeding corner’ in a big department store. How strange this country was. They provided special rooms for changing and feeding babies as though they were a guilty secret that no one wanted to acknowledge.
‘We get off here,’ Madam said to her in Sinhalese.
Soma nodded, thankful that Madam hadn’t insisted on testing her English. When she was in Sri Lanka, it had seemed that she could follow a conversation in English, even if she couldn’t speak it, but she hadn’t taken into account the accents and how much concentration it required. The bus drew to a halt and Soma kicked the brake off the pram. The bus floor lowered to let them off. Another unexpected concession towards the pram.
She trudged behind her employer, almost leaning on the pram for support. How much more was there to learn? How on earth would she remember it all? They walked a short way and turned in at a set of black iron gates. A few steps down the tree-lined path, the sound of the traffic seemed to quieten. Mind you, the streets were quieter here anyway. People didn’t shout. Horns didn’t blare. And nothing seemed to smell much. It was as though everything was muted by the cold.
This must be the park. The path of packed earth was edged by tall hedges that were miraculously green, which was in contrast to the bare trees. She knew about the seasons, but had never experienced them before. It couldn’t be winter because there was no snow. Winter was the one with snow. This must be another one. Autumn? But there were no yellow and brown leaves which always signified autumn in the books she’d seen. Soma shivered. If it was this cold now, how much worse would it be when it was actually cold enough to snow?
The hedge on one side ended and suddenly they were in a big green park. Soma stopped walking and stared. There was a playground and grass and bare trees and patches of brown earth that might be flowerbeds, even though there were no flowers. Dotted around there were wooden benches. It was one of the most beautiful spaces she had ever seen.
A small sound from the pram made her look down. Louie moved his fist up to his face and went back to sleep. When Soma looked back up again, Madam was watching her. Her expression was softer than it had been all afternoon.
They sat down, with the pram parked in front of them.
Madam was staring at her son. ‘Do you have everything you need?’ she said, without looking at Soma.
She wasn’t sure. She now had warm clothes. A safe place to stay. Food. So yes, she did. But Madam meant something more than that. ‘I think… yes, Madam.’
‘You know what you need to do for Louie’s routine?’
The list of activities in Louie’s day was long and the timings for them were very specific. Madam had written it all down for her. ‘Yes Madam.’
‘Good,’ said Madam, still looking at Louie. ‘That’s good.’
In the silence that followed, Soma said nothing. She let herself relax enough to enjoy the wide open park. A couple of women jogged past. A group of young women pushing prams walked by, chatting in a language that didn’t sound like English. A figure in a thick coat threw a ball for a big Alsatian.
‘You will look after Louie.’
Soma looked around to see Madam was staring at her intently now. It wasn’t a question. She was stating a fact. You will look after Louie properly or I will send you back.
‘Yes, Madam.’
Soma shut the door to her room. She pushed the chair against it too, for good measure. She had been there nearly two weeks now and no one had entered her room apart from herself and Madam. And Madam knocked. But she still felt safer with the chair against the door. When she woke up in the middle of the night, panic clawing in her chest, being able to sit up and see the chair still wedged against the door helped calm her in a way nothing else could. This was a safe place.
The baby monitor sat next to her alarm clock on the bedside cabinet and emitted a soft glow, so that her room was never completely dark. It crackled as Louie stirred in his sleep. When he was still, she could hear all his little noises. She smiled. He was a lovely baby. Cranky when he was tired, but then, who wasn’t?
Soma threw herself down on the bed and folded her arms behind her head. She still found it hard to believe that she was here. She had her own room. With a carpet and everything. What would her old friends say if they could see her now?
Of course, she couldn’t tell them. As far as they were aware, she had disappeared. Gone. So her good fortune had to stay her own secret.
She was lucky with Mrs Gamage too. Madam was cold and distant, always giving the impression that Soma was somehow under suspicion, but she wasn’t unkind. She had taken Soma shopping, although some of the money was to come out of Soma’s first wage. Without that, Soma would have frozen to death. The clothes she had brought with her were hopelessly inadequate. She hadn’t really understood the meaning of being cold when she’d bought them.
Then there were the little things. This room. The baby monitor, so that Soma could hear Louie without having to keep her door open. The selection of soap and toothpaste. These small kindnesses meant a lot to her.
Soma’s duties mostly related to Louie’s needs, but she also helped cook and clean at the weekends. She and Madam made pots of mush – for the baby to try. Soma had to keep a diary of what Louie ate and drank, and when he pooped. Soma was given a plate of whatever Madam and Sir were having. She ate by herself in the kitchen once Louie was asleep. The food during the week was strange; pasta and noodles and lumps of meat and vegetables cooked together. At the weekend Madam and Soma cooked what Soma considered to be proper food – curry, rice, coconut sambal. Again, this was done either early morning or late at night, when Louie was asleep. She got her share of those meals too, which was the highlight of her week.
Considering she was a servant, she felt she was treated well. Carefully, she got changed and got into bed. She’d put a hot water bottle at the top of the bed, which she now pushed down with her feet, so that her toes were warm. This bed. The first bed she’d ever had with a proper mattress. Her bed at home had a mat on it. A sudden memory assailed her. She turned onto her side, pulling herself into a ball. She didn’t have to fear him any more. He belonged in Jaya’s life, not in this one. That life was over. She must not think about it. Ever.