It was Elliot who had given structure to her life, Elliot who had given it meaning. She still imagined his sleeping body lying beside her, and when she opened her eyes in the morning and her gaze settled on his empty side of the bed, there was always a painful shiver of shock that he was gone. Since his death there had been times when Louisa simply forgot to breathe and she would find herself suddenly gasping for air. Breathe, she would command herself, breathe. But that didn’t help and she’d double over after a few minutes clutching her tight chest and sucking at air, as if sucking at life itself. Even if he had lied about the shares, surely there must have been a sound reason.
As her thoughts spiralled, she longed to be with someone who had gone through a loss and come out the other side. While her father was comforting to be around, and she knew he understood, he rarely spoke of Louisa’s mother’s death. What she needed was another woman who had felt the same rising panic, the same sleepless nights, the same painful disconnection. Louisa didn’t know what she wanted to say exactly—just that she wanted the relief of being able to talk. Gwen had not lost her husband, but she had lost a child. One was neither worse nor better than the other. They were different, but Gwen seemed like the one person who might genuinely understand that she felt as if the large stone lodged in her chest would remain there and that her heart would never open again. At that point she called her friend to see if the invitation to visit the tea plantation still stood. Gwen assured her it did and so a few days later Louisa began the long drive to the hilly tea country.
She hadn’t driven so far before on her own, and despite Gwen’s detailed directions was still a touch unsure of the route, but right now anything was better than staying at home. After leaving Galle she drove through the rainforest and noticed how heavily the area was being logged. Then she passed alongside the Gin Ganga River where gaggles of barely dressed children played at rolling stones in front of a large police station, but when she reached the crossing point, she hesitated. The narrow bridge over the river was supported by concrete pillars, but at its sides had only some flimsy-looking steel railings.
When her hands began to tremble she stopped the car and got out. She gazed down into the rushing river and then looked up at air shimmering with flying creatures and, hearing the noises of animals in the undergrowth, she took deep breaths. Birds were screeching overhead and apart from several pariah dogs which lay dozily at the edges of the road, the whole place was teeming with life. Yet when she thought of driving again, fear whipped through her, and she prayed for the courage to continue the journey.
As she negotiated the bridge she gripped the steering wheel, but all went well and she drove on, bypassing several rubber estates, to the point where she turned off on to a more minor road, just past a temple. Glancing out, she saw a group of yellow-robed monks sitting on a step, one of them smoking some kind of pipe. A little later, she turned off again and eventually, after crossing a second river, started climbing through a densely forested region. There the road wound up a mountain pass. Though Gwen had warned her the drive was grueling and would take the better part of a day, she had to admit to a feeling of excitement, despite the tiredness and hunger. It was all so new and she found, to her surprise, she was enjoying it. She pulled up just after another temple, which had to be about the halfway point, and decided to take a break and eat the sandwiches Camille had prepared for her.
While she ate, a group of purple-faced monkeys eyed her silently, and as the enormity of what she was doing fizzed through her, she laughed. If only Elliot could see her now.
When she had finished she drove on, climbing the many hills on the way to Hatton. Once she had taken another turning, she eventually arrived at the top of the hill overlooking the Hooper tea plantation, and the view took her breath away. A row of tulip trees lined the driveway below her, and she could see the plantation house was built in an L shape. She stopped the car to get out and gaze down at the shimmering lake. The place was truly gorgeous and she felt a slight stirring of hope. Perhaps this really was the right place to be?
At the bottom of the drive she parked and as she got out of the car Gwen came running out of the house in an instant, ringlets flying in every direction.
“Louisa, I am so happy you made it. Was the drive absolutely awful? You must be exhausted.”
Louisa shook her head. “I was surprised. I didn’t get lost at all.”
“Well, leave your case. One of the houseboys will bring it in. Let me take you through to the veranda at the back. We’ll have a long cool drink brought out.”
They walked into the house and out again through some elegant French windows. And, blinking in the brightness, Louisa remarked at the buzzing and chirping filling the air.
“It really feels wildly alive out here.”
“It always does, especially in the morning, or late in the day like now.”
Their drinks arrived and Louisa was grateful for the cool feel of the glass beneath her hands.
“You’ll want a rest and maybe to freshen up, but I thought we could have a quiet chat for a few minutes.”
Louisa gazed down at flower-filled gardens sloping down to the lake in three terraces, with paths, steps and benches placed between them, and the lake itself was the most gorgeous turquoise color.
“So,” Gwen was saying. “How are you coping? I am so terribly sorry for what has happened. You must be devastated.”
“It’s not easy. And, although my father is good to have around, my sister-in-law has gone back to her parents’ in Colombo. And nobody else really knows what to say to me.”
“It was similar after Liyoni died. Everyone tiptoed around me until I felt like screaming.”
“How did you cope?”
“In some ways, it’s hard to remember the early days. I felt as if my world had come to an end, but then it became a case of putting one foot in front of the other and doing whatever there was to do next. It wasn’t long ago but it has become easier.”
“I’m scared I’ll never feel normal again.”
“Well, you won’t feel the way you did before. It will have changed you. It’s more a case of working out who you are now and getting used to that.”
“I find myself crying at impossible moments.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Do you still?”
Gwen nodded. “And I still feel such anger.”
Louisa nodded. “It ambushes me when I least expect it and is so strong I can literally shake.”
“I felt my world had ended, and it had. I didn’t feel alive: I felt broken. Truly. Broken.”
“Thank you for being so honest,” Louisa said. “I’m so glad I came.”
“I hope it will help. At the very least it will pass a few days. If you can just keep going, keep living, keep caring, you will find your heart does ease.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“I’m afraid we have a visitor for supper tonight. I had hoped it would just be the three of us, but Savi Ravasinghe has arrived to see Laurence on a plantation matter on behalf of his wife, my cousin Fran. She is a shareholder, you see, but you’ll like Savi. He’s an artist and very kind. Can you tolerate that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Because you could have a tray in your room, if you prefer?”
“No. It will do me good. I’ve been so little in company since Elliot died.”
“Well, Savi is a lovely man. You can talk to him about anything. Come on, let me show you your room.”
They went indoors and up a sweeping staircase, and then along a corridor to the very end. Gwen flung open the door to a room with windows in both exterior walls. “I love this room because it’s so airy. Will it do? The bathroom is next door. Dinner is at eight.”
Louisa looked around her. “Thank you. It’s absolutely lovely.”
After Gwen had left, Louisa went to the window overlooking the gardens and part of the lake and leaned out to breathe the air. Rising up around the lake luminous tea bushes grew in symmetrical rows, and the women tea-pickers wore brightly colored saris. A riot of pink, green, purple and blue. There was such a feeling of calm about it all, Louisa relaxed. It was a magical place, and she already felt as if the weight in her chest had lightened—for a few minutes she had actually forgotten Elliot.
It didn’t last. As she lay on the bed to rest she felt torn between grief at his loss and being burdened by his lies. The worst thing was the fear that after twelve years she didn’t know who Elliot had really been. What if the love at the heart of her marriage had not been the love she had imagined?
She listened to the sounds of the birds and saw the sky darken. It was time to dress for dinner and put on a mask of cheerfulness. Gwen wouldn’t expect it, but something within Louisa meant she knew it was what she would, nevertheless, do. She decided on a navy dress, nipped in at the waist and with a wide belt, and after she had brushed her blond curls she felt a little better.
As she entered the drawing room for drinks before supper she saw a bank of tall windows running across an entire wall. Their shutters had been left half open so she could glimpse the moon lighting the garden beyond. This room fronted the shining, silvery lake. The walls were painted in a soft blue-green and the whole place felt cool, with comfy-looking armchairs, and two pale sofas piled high with embroidered cushions depicting birds, elephants and exotic flowers. A leopard skin was draped across the back of one of the sofas.
“Come and sit down with Savi,” Gwen said as she stood to greet Louisa.
An elegant Sinhalese man rose at the same time. He had longish hair, a slightly hooked nose and smiling caramel eyes with heavy brows. He held out his hand. “You must be Louisa. I’m Savi Ravasinghe.”
“Lovely to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand.
“Will you sit?” he said.
“Yes, sit with Savi,” Gwen said. “I need to check that Ayah is with the baby. Laurence will be down in a minute. Are you happy with Sinhalese food, Louisa?”
“Oh, perfectly. Thank you.”
“So,” Savi said as they seated themselves. “Tell me about you.”
She took a quick breath. It was awkward meeting new people. “I don’t know what you already know.”
“I know you have only recently lost your husband. I’m so sorry. Do you mind me mentioning it?”
“Actually, I prefer it.”
He smiled. “That I understand. You know Gwen’s little girl died?”
“I do. I think that’s why she invited me here.”
“And she is a very sympathetic woman. My wife thinks the world of her.”
“Where is your wife?”
“She has business interests in England and we live most of the year there, but I like to come back home from time to time and spend a few months here. I have an apartment in Colombo in Cinnamon Gardens. My wife, Fran, often comes too, but this time she didn’t.”
It was unusual nowadays in Ceylon to come across a mixed marriage, but Louisa knew it had once been perfectly normal at a time when Englishmen had been in short supply.
“Have you faced many difficulties?” she asked. “You and your wife, I mean.”
“More so in England, to be honest.” He smiled. “But most people here tolerate us.”
“I’m glad.”
“You live in Galle, I hear.”
“I was born there and wouldn’t swap it for the world, though it’s lovely here, of course. And recently I had cause to go to a cinnamon plantation. I couldn’t help falling in love with it.”
“I knew someone who went to live on a cinnamon plantation not too far from Galle, or at least that was the rumor. She was a well-known artist in Colombo and then she simply upped and disappeared. I’m just trying to recall her name.”
“Oh?”
He frowned. “It was an unusual name but I just can’t remember it.”
Louisa felt surprised. “Did she have red hair?”
“Yes! You don’t know her, do you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know her, but I think I may have met her just the once and then only very briefly.”
“Small world.”
“Do you know why she left Colombo?”
“I don’t think anybody really knew. I’ve spotted some of her apparently new canvases for sale from time to time so she must still be painting.”
“But nobody ever sees her?”
“No. Ah look, here is Laurence.”
Louisa nodded, and watched Gwen’s tall husband approach. He was broad-backed with short light-brown hair flecked with gray at the temples, and he wore a wide smile on his face. She thought of the last time she’d seen him, at their Christmas party, when everything had seemed all set to be wonderful. And suddenly it was as if a cold wind swept through her heart. How swiftly life could change. How drastically it could all be gone.