December 1967 Watakälé
Shiro kept her hands anchored in the pockets of her purple skirt as she strode along the gravel path. The wind swirled around her, blowing her hair around her face. Diamonds of water glistened in the curls.
Anthony rode his bike by her side, keeping pace with her. The mist rose from the valley, reached damp fingers between them. ‘Talk to me, Shiro. Please.’
She shook her head. ‘Why?’
‘Because I care.’
She twisted round to face him. Fury and pain warred in the depths of her eyes. ‘Care?’ She tossed her head and laughed. It was a sound of sorrow and anger that sent spears of anguish through Anthony. ‘How could you care? You are white – British. You pretended to be my friend. But of course we can’t be friends, can we?’ Her voice rose in pitch, took on a twinge of hysteria. ‘Just like Janet and Sarah couldn’t be friends to me. The wonderful white Raj, rulers of the empire, the lords of the plantation and us – the stupid, untouchable natives! The conquerors and the conquered.’
‘Shiro, sweetheart, please.’
‘No. Every time I think of you, I feel a deep burning pain here.’ She pushed her clenched fist to her chest over her heart. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘No Shiro. Please. It isn’t like that for us. We need –’
A spear of lightning rent the lowering sky. Thunder drowned his words and a curtain of icy rain dropped from the clouds. Shiro spun round and dashed off the road into the weighing shed. Anthony left his motorbike in the rain and followed her. They stood panting, looking at each other in the half-light of the musty room. A flash of lightning illuminated Shiro’s face. She flinched, closed her eyes and bit her trembling lower lip.
Anthony moved closer to her. He whispered her name. ‘Shiro.’
Her voice caught in a sob. ‘I wish I had never met you. I would have gone to medical school, married some stupid Tamil boy of my mother’s choosing. But you’ve spoiled it all. Now I don’t know who I am.’
Anthony was lost. He groaned and drew her into his arms. Stabs of longing lanced through his body.
How could loving this glorious girl be wrong?
He caught her chin and turned her face up to his. She gazed at him, her eyes wide with wonder, longing and a dawning awareness.
‘Shiro, sweetheart, the feeling you have here,’ he placed his hand over her heart, thrilling at her sharp intake of breath, ‘what you feel for me is not hate, Shiro.’
Shiro’s lips trembled. ‘I’ve never felt this way. I don’t like it.’
‘Let me show you what it is, my love,’ Anthony whispered, a breath away from her mouth.
Her lips were soft and yielded to his. When his tongue touched her mouth, she parted her lips for him. He thrilled to the taste of her, the soft sweetness of her tongue on his. The drum beat of the rain on the tin roof of the weighing shed echoed the mad rhythm of his heart.
Shiro’s arms reached around his neck. She clung to him. Opening the top button of his shirt, she let her hand drift over his chest, exploring the contours of his body. Little whining sounds came from her throat.
Anthony groaned. With a little mew, she curved her body against him. His kisses deepened, demanding a response, drawing her essence, her soul into his keeping.
Surely this was love. Not the mild everyday affection punctuated by angry outbursts that seemed to keep his parents together, but a love that coloured life with an almost unbearable intensity – part wonder, part fear and pain.
‘I love you, Shiro. I love you more than life itself. I want you with me forever.’ He covered her face with kisses.
She nuzzled closer to him, her cheek warm on his bare chest. ‘Love, Anthony? How is that possible? There can’t be a forever for us.’ She raised her face. ‘Can there?’
The words brought Anthony crashing back down to reality. Her black eyes were clouded with desire and her lips swollen with his kisses. Her hair tangled on her shoulders. He caressed her face, feeling the warmth, the soft pliant acceptance of his touch. Then he kissed her again, storing up the feel and taste of her.
He did not want to let her go, not now, not ever. She was everything to him.
He held her tight, stroking her back. ‘Shiro, I need to go now, darling. I have to see to some things – important things. Come to our place tomorrow evening sweetheart. We will be together, Shiro. I love you.’
Her eyes glowed with joy and trust. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek. ‘I love you too, Anthony.’
He watched her leave the weighing shed and walk towards the Tea-maker’s house. He would never let her out of his life. They would find a way to be together.
This had to be his destiny.