June 1969 Watakälé
Only the ticking of the old grandfather clock interrupted the silence. Dusk turned to darkness and no one switched on the lights in the Tea-maker’s house. Raaken came in and left mugs of strong, sweet, milky tea next to father and son. He looked from one to the other and slunk out of the room.
Victor got up and paced across the room to stand by his father. ‘You can’t go on living like this, Dad.’ He put his mug of tea down on the side table. ‘Mum would want to know what is happening.’
Rajan leant forward. ‘No, son. No one in Colombo is to know what is happening here, especially not your mother.’
‘But you and Mum have always shared everything. Like when Shiro tried to kill herself. You went through that together. Nothing could be worse than that. Why not tell Mum how worried you are? Damn it Dad, this is serious!’
‘Tell her what, son? That the superintendent William Ashley-Cooper has cooked up evidence to frame me for theft? How do I explain to her that my assistant Tea-maker, Wright, is in cahoots with him and is fiddling the books for him? She’ll think I’m imagining it. And if she believes me, she’ll blame herself.’ Rajan Rasiah’s voice was tired and resigned.
Victor switched on a light. The glare from the naked overhead lamp made them both flinch. He pulled a stool to sit close, facing his father. ‘For heaven’s sake dad, why should she blame herself? She hardly knows the new superintendent William Ashley-Cooper. She went to Colombo with Shiro before he started here.’
Rajan Rasiah sighed. ‘Victor, there are some things we kept from you boys.’ He sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees. ‘Son, William Ashley-Cooper’s the one who raped Lakshmi. He found out that your mother and I helped Lakshmi with the pregnancy and that we sent the boy to the Salvation Army orphanage. William Ashley-Cooper is a vicious and vindictive man. I am the evidence of his actions. He wants me out. I am pretty sure he is working with the assistant Tea-maker Wright. I don’t know what hold William has over Wright, but I might as well resign before he forces my hand.’
Victor leapt up. The stool toppled over. The crash brought Raaken running into the room. ‘Dad, the plantation is your life. You can’t give up so easily. I’ll write to James Ashley-Cooper myself. William is a bastard.’
The look of calm acceptance in his father’s eyes chilled Victor’s blood. It was not like his father to not fight for his rights. ‘Calm down, son. It won’t do any good. You think I haven’t thought about it? Why do you think I have kept duplicate ledgers at home?’ He gestured to the top drawer of the cabinet. ‘But no amount of evidence will make a difference. It will be his word against mine. No one will take the side of the native against the British. Can’t you see, son? James Ashley-Cooper doesn’t care about any of us. None of the white bastards do. They just want to rip everything from the plantations before nationalisation. That’s why he sent Anthony Ashley-Cooper back to England.’
‘But Dad –’
‘No. It’s finished.’ Rajan stood up. ‘I’ve made up my mind, son. I’ve written the resignation letter. I’ll hand it to William tomorrow morning. Then I’ll drive down to Colombo and tell Mum about it all in person. I’ve had enough of this life.’
Victor saw the tears in his father’s eyes. He reached for the telephone. ‘Dad, please, let me call Mum.’
Rajan shook his head. ‘Goodnight, son.’ He stood for a moment resting his hand on his son’s shoulder. Victor watched as his father walked into his dark and silent bedroom. He seemed a lot older than his fifty-two years.
Victor switched off the lights. He sat alone, looking out of the sitting room window at the mango tree. As children, Edward and he had built a treehouse there. Later, with Shiro, the bench under the mango tree became the place where confidences were shared and problems solved. He remembered the story of the soonyam and Raaken’s swoon.
It was dark outside. Fireflies lit up the trees like some out-of-season, ethereal Christmas decoration. With a sigh, Victor realised there would be no more Christmases in Watakälé. He would continue to work as a scientist in the Tea Research Institute at Talawakalé on the other side of the mountains. Soon he would go to England to complete his PhD. Edward would marry Lalitha after his degree in accounting. Shiro would continue her medical studies in Colombo.
A large moth flew crazily into the glass window and dropped down, its wings broken. He thought of Shiro, her enthusiasm and brightness dimmed by the depression she had suffered. Their mother said it was due to the stress of her not wanting an arranged marriage. But she was improving. He was sure she would, in her inimitable way, bounce back.
He realised that this would be the last night he would sleep in his room.
***
The string hoppers were leathery and the hodhi lacked salt. Victor and Rajan sat at breakfast. Raaken stood by the dining table. His eyes were red and his face drawn and despondent.
‘Aiya, eat, Aiya,’ Raaken urged.
Turning away, Rajan Rasiah picked up the phone. Maybe he should call his wife. Lilly would know what to do. He held the receiver to his forehead. Then replaced it in the cradle. No. He would handle this on his own.
‘Aiya, Aiya,’ Raaken kept repeating between sobs. Raaken had just learned from Victor that his master was leaving Watakälé.
Victor helped his father pack his bag. Raaken sobbed as he loaded it into the boot of the Morris Minor. The furniture and all the other household goods would be sent later.
Victor stood with his hand on the front door of the car. ‘Dad, please let me come with you when you speak to William Ashley-Cooper.’
‘No, son. He’ll think I don’t have the gumption to stand up to him. You go back to the office.’ He put his hand in his trouser pocket and touched the resignation letter. He was no longer bitter and angry. Instead, he felt a deep sense of calmness and peace.
‘I’m going directly to Colombo from the factory. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’
‘Aiyaaaa,’ Raaken howled.
Rajan drove down to the factory. He did not look back at the house. He recalled events and one by one, severed the chains that bound him to the house and the plantation. Memories of the day he brought his young, beautiful and nervous bride there. The day he heard of his father’s death and knew he had to care for his mother and brothers. He shuddered as he remembered the day that Shiro tried to kill herself.
It was all done and finished. Today he would start a new chapter.
Wright, the assistant Tea-maker, was seated in the factory office when Rajan walked in. ‘Mr Ashley-Cooper said he would like to talk to you,’ he said, a smirk on his pockmarked face.
Rajan looked at the man he had trained. He remembered what an ignorant buffoon Wright had been when he was first hired five years ago. Rajan had spent hours teaching him the basics of tea manufacture and tea tasting. Now this man had ganged up with William Ashley-Cooper to discredit him. Rajan stared clear-eyed at Wright. Wright looked away and walked out of the office. Rajan sat at the Tea-maker’s table for the last time.
The roar of the motorcycle and a cloud of dust heralded William Ashley-Cooper’s arrival. Rajan remained seated as William strode into the office.
‘Well, Mr Rasiah?’
Rajan sat back with his hands folded on the table. He stared into William’s vicious blue eyes. He would not give this bully the pleasure of seeing him cringe.
William leant over the table. ‘I can destroy you, Mr Rasiah,’ he spluttered. ‘I have evidence of fraud in your ledgers. I also have people who will support me.’
Rajan stood up and looked at William. ‘We both know that Wright cooked the books, Mr Ashley-Cooper. I don’t know exactly what you promised him. I suppose it is a promotion to head Tea-maker and a substantial pay rise.’
Reaching into his pocket he drew out the resignation letter. ‘Here is my letter of resignation, effective today.’
William looked taken aback. He gaped at Rajan. ‘You’re giving up?’
‘No, I am not giving up. As I say in the letter, I am resigning. There is no place for me here. You and your minions can ruin this place.’ Rajan held out the letter. His hand was steady, his expression proud and distant.
William clenched his hands. His face contorted with fury. ‘Why you filthy little insubordinate –’ His mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments. Then he snatched the letter from Rajan’s hand. ‘I accept your resignation,’ he snarled, ‘with immediate effect. Get out!’
Rajan Rasiah nodded once. He turned and began walking out of the office.
‘By the way, Mr Do-gooder Tea-maker. Do you want to know what brought on your daughter’s depression?’ William yelled out after him.
Rajan stopped, but did not turn around.
‘That got to you, didn’t it?’ William laughed. ‘She was having an affair with my brother, Anthony. He broke it off with her. That’s why she got so ill.’
Rajan stood frozen to the spot for a moment. With an effort of will, he continued walking to the car.
He got in and started up the engine, drunken, demented laughter followed him. It sounded like a hyena dragged out of the darkest caverns of hell.
***
Rajan drove down the road away from Watakälé, his mind awhirl. William was lying. Anthony wouldn’t have had an affair with Shiro. He was too honest, wasn’t he? And where would she have the chance to meet him?
She was always near the house. Wasn’t she?
But as the winding road unfolded before him, seemingly disconnected events began to fit together. He remembered Shiro’s long absences, her high spirits when she came back home. He remembered Anthony’s questions about Shiro and her health, the cheque towards her treatment in Colombo, the extra bonus in his provident fund account. Unconsciously, Rajan’s foot pressed heavier on the accelerator. The speedometer steadily crept up. He didn’t care.
Anthony –the best superintendent he’d worked for. A man who treated the staff with dignity. He never played around with coolies. Well, he didn’t need to, did he? He had a much fairer prize. Rajan’s heart contracted at the thought. His beloved daughter in the arms of – no! It was too horrible to think about.
Then he remembered Lilly’s words on the telephone from Colombo a couple of weeks ago. Watch out for William, she had said. He will do anything to make trouble. Did she know something? Was he the only one in the dark?
He wrenched the steering wheel. The car careened around the corner, tyres screeching.
Lilly should have told him. He would have killed them both. Anthony and William. Give them a short cut to hell where they belonged.
The car swerved onto the grassy verge. A trio of coolies leapt out of the way, shouting.
He didn’t care.
Rajan seethed. Where Sir James led, the boys followed. It’s just that he had trusted Anthony. He had believed Anthony was a better man –
A big, lumbering lorry, laden with boxes of groceries, appeared before him. It straddled three-quarters of the road as it laboured up the hairpin bends of Haputalé pass. Rajan rammed his foot on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the left. He saw the shocked face of the lorry driver. The car skidded, its back swinging widely. The rear bumper thudded against the front right of the lorry. Gyrating like a rotor, the car soared clean off the road. It somersaulted down thirty metres of cliff face, shedding bits of metal.
His last thoughts were of Shiro.
She had tried to kill herself when Anthony left her. What would she do now?