May 1969 Watakälé
The setting sun slanted through the shade trees, turning the tea fields into a tapestry of green, gold and grey. The mist clambered up the mountains, snuffing out the colours and replacing them with a blanket of black.
This was a last ditch attempt to locate Lakshmi. If William didn’t know, he would have to ask Mr Rasiah, the Tea-maker. He was not keen to face the Tea-maker. Too afraid of how much he knew of his part in Shiro’s suicide attempt.
‘You’re a bloody coward, Anthony,’ he mumbled to himself.
It was dark when the car wound its way into Watakälé. The Tea-maker’s house and garden looked unkempt. Mrs Rasiah’s roses and jasmine plants were overgrown with weeds. She must be in Colombo with Shiro, and Mr Rasiah alone there. Anthony’s heart constricted when a turn in the road showed him the stream with the ledge of rock.
The chauffeur, Sunil, drove up the steep, winding road to the bungalow. The lights were all on and the house on the hill shone like a beacon. Anthony saw Appu in the dining room, laying out the bone china plates for dinner. He noticed three other Indian coolies in white uniforms outlined in the sitting room light. Two were sweeping the room. The third was about to draw the thick damask curtains. William and Janet certainly kept a large staff, he mused, comparing it with his simple life there just two years ago with Appu and the dog.
The car drew up and stopped at the house.
The coolie at the window drawing the curtains noticed the car in the driveway. He stopped and peered through the glass. Then turned and scurried towards the study. Soon William and Janet came out and stepped out onto the veranda.
This is it, thought Anthony, no turning back now.
The car was parked in the penumbra of the lights on the veranda. Anthony slid the sleeping Daniel off his lap and opened the door of the car. ‘Sunil,’ he said to the chauffeur, ‘Please watch the child for a few minutes.’ He eased himself out of the back seat and took two steps forward so the couple standing on the veranda could see him.
‘Anthony!’ Janet gasped. She flew down the veranda and threw herself into his arms, surprising him with her tight embrace. With the same suddenness, she sprang back and shot a quick glance towards her husband on the veranda.
‘Where have you been? I tried to find you. Your parents thought you were with Bob Kirkland, but –’ She shot a glance at William. ‘I didn’t want to call them.’
Keeping his arm around his sister-in-law, Anthony moved her up the steps and away from the car. William remained on the veranda, his hands in his pockets. His eyes were cold and hooded, secretive even.
Anthony was shocked at how his brother had changed. He had lost weight and his face had the reddish blotches of an alcoholic. There were dark shadows under the blue eyes that locked with his.
‘What brings you here, little brother?’ William’s tone was belligerent.
‘You knew I was coming, didn’t you, William.’ It was a statement rather than a question. ‘And that I was bringing the boy?’ Anthony glanced back at the car where Sunil was lifting Daniel out of the back seat.
‘A baby! Anthony?’ Janet looked from Anthony to William, confused.
William came down the steps. He brushed Janet aside.
‘Yes, Anthony, your dear friend the Reverend Robert Kirkland called a couple of hours ago. Informed me to expect a visit from you and your half-breed son.’
Anthony looked past him to Janet. He gestured to the child. ‘This is my adopted son Daniel.’
‘He’s gorgeous. May I hold him?’ Janet held her arms out. Daniel laughed and went to her.
Janet walked into the house, ignoring the tension between the two brothers. ‘Come on, don’t stand out here in the damp. Let’s get this cutie into the house.’ Daniel snuggled half asleep in her arms, his arms wrapped around her neck.
William shot a vitriolic glance at Anthony and followed.
‘Appu,’ William called out towards the kitchen. ‘Your favourite Periadorai has returned.’
Appu stepped out from the kitchen. The tired eyes lit up and a smile creased the dark, weathered face setting the moustache wobbling. ‘Aiya,’ he exclaimed. His eyes then swept to the boy in Janet’s arms and the look turned to one of horrified trepidation.
William was obviously enjoying the situation. ‘Stop gawking and get us a meal, Appu. Our prodigal son and his bastard must be hungry.’
Appu took Daniel from Janet. ‘I will take him to the kitchen and give him some food, madam. The driver and the other staff can help me.’
Anthony saw Janet open her mouth to protest. William flashed her a look. She stopped and handed over the boy to Appu. Then moved to stand beside William.
Appu took Daniel in his arms and went back into the kitchen.
Janet stared at William. ‘Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?’
‘And spoil your surprise, darling?’ drawled William. ‘I wanted to watch your face when you saw your ex-boyfriend and his half-breed savage.’ He laughed and turned towards the bar to pour a glass of whisky.
Anthony and Janet stood facing each other. ‘I’m sorry things turned out this way between you and William, Janet,’ Anthony said.
Janet turned away, but not before Anthony saw the tears in her eyes.
Appu appeared at the dining room door. ‘Dinner is served, sir.’ He stood at the door till Janet and William passed. Then he approached Anthony. ‘Sunil and I will bathe and feed the child and put him to bed, sir. You don’t have to worry.’ Looking into Anthony’s eyes, he lapsed back to talking in Tamil. ‘Kavanam, Aiya. Be careful, sir.’
Appu dished out the roast beef, boiled vegetables and baked potato with an expressionless face. Janet and Anthony chatted about their parents and the manor house. William was silent.
Appu served a delicious pineapple tart for dessert. Janet pushed back her chair. ‘I think I’ll go check on the baby.’ She looked from one to the other of the brothers. She waited for a grunted permission from William before rising from the table and almost running out of the room. Anthony waited until her footsteps faded down the corridor before getting up.
‘Stop,’ William snapped. ‘Sit down.’
Anthony paused, half up from his chair. William snapped, ‘Sit down, I said.’
Anthony lowered himself back down.
‘Why the hell did you come back with that half-breed creature?’
Anthony curled his hands on the arms of the chair. ‘That half-breed creature, as you call him, is your son, William, and you know it. The girl you raped. She had your son.’
William clapped his hands and laughed. ‘What a surprise! A coolie girl pregnant by a Periadorai. So, I had sex with her. She probably had sex with ten others before and after that.’
‘Come on, William. She was a virgin when you took her. Even you would have recognised that. And you saw the boy. He’s an Ashley-Cooper. Did you look at his eyes? It’s Mother all over again.’
William picked up the glass. He gulped the whisky neat and coughed. ‘Blue eyes and brown hair. Stop fantasising, little brother. She could have been impregnated by any of our gang.’
‘No. He’s your son. Father knows and accepts it.’
‘More fool he.’ William turned to refill his glass.
Anthony took the glass from William’s hand. ‘I need to find the boy’s mother.’ He leaned forward, not wanting Janet to hear. ‘Where is she, William? Where is Lakshmi?’
William grabbed the glass back from Anthony. He sniggered and raised the glass. ‘Don’t be stupid, little brother. Do you think I kept track of every girl I screwed?’ He guffawed. ‘I didn’t look at her face when I shagged her in the weighing shed and I have no idea what her name is. The bitch is probably just one of the prostitutes who roam the streets of Diyatalāwa. Why don’t you go check them out? There’s a great whorehouse there. I can give you the address. The Madame is pretty sexy herself.’
Anthony shut his eyes and prayed for patience.
‘And you can wipe that self-righteous look off your face. Who are you to stand judgement over me?’ William continued. ‘What about your little fling with the Rasiah girl?’
Anthony felt the hairs on his neck stand up. ‘What are you talking about?’
William leered at him. ‘You thought I didn’t know?’ He pulled out a letter from his pocket and threw it across the table to Anthony. ‘Read it. Father sent it to me when you left Watakälé. Or should I say were sacked. He wanted me to follow it up. I held on to it for a day like today.’
Anthony looked at the plain brown envelope. He drew out the piece of paper. The letter was in Mr Rasiah’s clear long hand, the type he used for official correspondence.
‘Dear Mr James Ashley-Cooper
Dear Sir
I want to thank you personally for the bonus of Rupees fifty thousand that your son, Anthony, so kindly passed on to me last week. It was very generous of you. It was very timely since we had to take our daughter to Colombo for urgent medical treatment and this sum will enable us to get the best doctors to see her.’
Damn, damn, damn! Anthony thought. Why did Mr Rasiah have so much integrity?
William was still leering at him.
Appu came in and picked up the dishes. Anthony could feel his worried eyes on him.
‘There was no debit on the company account for that amount, was there, little brother? I checked. It came out of your personal account.’ William tossed back his drink and coughed. ‘That wasn’t all you paid the Rasiahs, was it?’
William leant forward again and poked his finger at Anthony. ‘There is the credit to Mr Rasiah’s provident fund with the proviso that it be used for their children’s education. The girl’s the only one still in university, you might as well have stamped her name on it. You thought I wouldn’t notice?’ William laughed. ‘What did you pay the Rasiahs for, Anthony? The services of their sexy daughter? The one you met by the stream? Were you paying for an abortion in Colombo? Or maybe you’ve got a bastard yourself, that you’re supporting somewhere?’
Anthony lost it. All the years of pent up frustration and anger against his brother were in that one punch.
William roared with pain. He clutched his face and staggered back, crashing into the drinks trolley. The clatter of breaking bottles and William’s screamed curses brought Appu and the other coolies running into the room. Janet followed after them.
‘Damn you to hell, William,’ Anthony panted, standing over a prostrate William. ‘You are what Father made you, aren’t you? Mother tried to change Father’s attitude, and it killed her spirit. You’re doing the same to Janet. You bastard! I will find Lakshmi. I will find the mother of your son! I will give her and Daniel a better life. I swear it!’
Janet dropped to the floor by William with a linen napkin in her hand. She looked up from where she was kneeling, holding the cloth to William’s fast swelling cheek.
‘Did you say his son?’ she gasped and looked at William’s rapidly swelling face. ‘I thought you couldn’t father a child.’
‘Shut up, woman’ William shoved her hand away.
‘Yes, Janet,’ Anthony said. ‘William raped a coolie girl. Daniel is her son. I want to find the girl. I’m going to take the two of them to Australia to start a new life.’
William struggled to his feet. ‘You’ll never find her,’ he muttered angrily. ‘The bitch is gone. And you,’ he pointed a finger at Janet, ‘shut up and go to bed.’
Janet stood between the brothers. She looked from William to Anthony. ‘Anthony, let it go. Please. Let’s talk about this in the morning.’
William held on to his jaw. He jabbed a finger at Anthony. ‘I’ll get even with you. Both you and your precious Mr Rasiah.’
Anthony turned and walked down the corridor to the guest room. He could hear William swearing and Janet’s voice, soft and weary. ‘Come to bed. You need to sleep it off. It’ll be all right in the morning.’
Daniel was already in bed, fast asleep. Anthony kissed him on his curly head. Tomorrow, we’ll find your mother, he promised him silently. Sighing, he shut the door and opened his overnight bag. Just then, he heard a soft, insistent tap on the door.
‘Anthony! It’s me. Please, let me in!’ It was Janet’s voice in an urgent whisper.
Anthony opened the door a fraction to let her in and closed it after her. ‘What the hell are you doing? You heard what he said. He’s still convinced you and I were lovers in England. If he finds you here he’ll kill us both!’
‘I don’t care, Anthony,’ she said. Her face was drawn, her eyes dull. ‘He’s always drinking.’ Her voice cracked on a sob. ‘He even drinks with the native staff, especially the assistant Tea-maker, Wright. He spends nights away. Appu says he goes to Diyatalāwa. I think –’ She took a deep breath. ‘I think he has a mistress somewhere.’ She sobbed into his shoulder.
Anthony held her. This was a girl whom he had grown up with, the closest he would come to a sister. He felt a wave of tenderness for her. ‘Why do you stay with him? Why don’t you go back to England?’
‘I can’t. It’d be too shameful for both families. I could bear it, just, if I had a child. But he stopped making love to me after we came here. He called me frigid. Said the coolie girls are fun.’ She choked on her sobs. ‘He said all I ever did was lie back and think of England. He said he couldn’t father a child anyway. And now you say –’ Her voice trailed into silence.
Anthony racked his mind for something to comfort her.
Daniel stirred and whimpered. Janet drew back from Anthony’s arms. ‘I’m so glad you came. It makes me feel better to have seen you. I hope you find Daniel’s mother. Take care of yourself and keep in touch.’ She kissed him on the cheek and slipped out of the room.
Anthony pushed the door shut. Dragging the heavy armchair across the room he lodged it under the door handle. Then pulled off his shirt and trousers and laid them on a clothes hanger by the bed. Setting his alarm for six, he lowered himself into the bed by his son.
Exhausted, his body cried out for sleep. But he tossed and turned.
Images kept jostling each other in his mind, images of a cowering coolie girl, a lonely wife, a leering drunkard and a laughing, black-haired girl who read Shakespeare by a stream amidst the tea bushes.
Will the pain ever get better?
***
Anthony opened his eyes. Something had woken him.
The clock on the wall told him it was five-thirty. He sat up in bed, instinctively looking at his son. Daniel had rolled over in the night and was lying cuddled against him. Anthony looked at the door, which was still securely shut.
He looked around the room. What had woken him? His eyes were drawn by a patch of white just in front of the door. It was a sheet of paper. Listening intently, he heard the soft footsteps of someone walking barefoot down the corridor. Whoever was padding down the hall had just slipped a paper under the door.
Anthony moved Daniel aside and slipped off the bed. He picked up the paper. There were two words printed on the paper: ‘Hemachandra Mudalali’.
Anthony nodded. So that was where Lakshmi was. The only person who could have known this was Appu. He obviously did not want to be identified as the source of the information.
Anthony pulled on his shirt and trousers. He opened the door, shutting and turning the key in the lock. He padded barefoot through the length of the Bungalow and tapped on the door of the servants’ quarters.
Appu opened the door. ‘Please tell Sunil that I would like to leave at six-thirty,’ Anthony said. ‘I have to make a stop at Diyatalāwa on my way back to Nuwara-Eliya.’
‘Yes, sir. That is good,’ Appu said. ‘I will pack some food for you and the child.’
Anthony nodded and turned to leave.
‘Sir …’ he heard Appu say.
Anthony turned back to him again.
‘Aiya, Shiro Chinnamma is well. She is happy.’
They stood looking at each other for a moment – the Englishman and the coolie. Then Anthony placed his hand on Appu’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, Appu. I will not come here again. Please look after Janet for me.’
‘Aiya,’ the old man looked at Anthony with tear filled eyes. ‘I will ask God to look after you.’
Anthony felt Appu’s gaze follow him back down the corridor back to the bedroom and his son.
Janet came out when she heard the car draw up. She had a soft blanket in her hand. ‘Please keep Daniel warm,’ she said. Anthony touched her cheek as she reached into the car to kiss Daniel. ‘Take care, Janet,’ Anthony said. ‘I will never come back here. Appu is a good man. He’ll help you.’
Anthony did not look back as the car wound its way down the steep drive.
Sunil looked in the rear view mirror. ‘We will be in Diyatalāwa by seven o’clock, sir.’