AS LEILA said, trying to make a joke of it, it wasn’t so much his having adopted Mary – this was the name they had decided to give her, her native name being considered unsuitable – it was more her having adopted him; like a stray dog, Leila said. She followed him about, taking care to keep out of everybody else’s way, especially Leila’s. With an effort of imagination that he would have thought himself incapable of, he put himself in the child’s place and saw through her eyes. He understood then why she was so unsure of Leila, in spite of the latter’s determined Christian kindness. She sensed that she was being asked to take Christina’s place – she had been shown photographs of Leila’s dead daughter – and, young as she was, she knew that she could not do it. She was not resentful, she was not sophisticated enough for that, but it troubled her. Shown Christina’s room and told that it was now hers she just nodded, causing Leila to think her either stupid or ungrateful, but he realised that, on the contrary, gratitude was overwhelming the child. Later, if there was to be a later, she would learn to show it in a way that would convince Leila and unite them all.
He noticed that to Saidee she was a mystery. Saidee did not yet know who her mother was but could see that she was one of the poor like Saidee herself. The mystery was why she was being treated by Tuan and the mistress as if she was part of their family. She couldn’t be a relative of Tuan, for she was too dark-skinned, nor of the mistress, for she was too common. There were many like her in Savu, among the poor, so why was she in particular being shown so much favour? The mistress could hardly be looking on her as a substitute for Christina. She was nothing like the dead girl who had been beautiful and lady-like.
When Saidee and the other servants found out that Mary’s mother was the woman who’d committed murder they would not praise Tuan and their mistress for adopting her. They would think it foolish and harmful. Most people, of whatever class, colour, or religion, would agree with them.
That night, in bed, as they lay in silence, Leila suddenly said, in a strangely bitter voice: ‘I think we should wait till we have a child of our own.’
‘Wait? What do you mean?’
‘I mean we shouldn’t adopt her.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not. There are many reasons. You know them as well as I do.’
‘You were keen only a day or so ago. Why have you changed your mind?’
‘I was never keen. I thought it was something I should do.’
‘As a Christian?’
‘If you like, as a Christian. I felt sorry for the child. She’s worth saving but perhaps someone else would be better able to do it.’
‘No one else would even try.’
‘You said yourself it would be too great a risk. Her mother’s mad. That’s what we’re going to plead in court. It won’t save her, though. She’ll be hanged.’
‘We knew all that.’
‘For God’s sake, Andrew, the child of a woman hanged for murder!’
‘Didn’t you say the child wasn’t to blame?’
‘Neither she is. But she saw it done. It’s a wonder she’s not having nightmares and screaming.’
They listened. They heard the racket of the jungle, but no screams.
‘It will be with her all her life, Andrew. Can you imagine it?’
He could and it turned his blood to ice, with horror but also with pity.
‘We’ll have children of our own. What kind of influence would she be on them?’
He thought, a very good influence. But he could be wrong. Most people would share Leila’s fears.
‘It’s not too late,’ she said. ‘We told her it was only for a little while. Mariam warned her. We’ve given no promises. Nothing’s been signed. Her father’s been paid nothing.’
‘Didn’t you promise her mother that you would look after her?’
‘Look after, yes, but not adopt. The woman was hysterical. I had to say something to calm her down. What would your mother say, Andrew? She’d never accept her as her granddaughter, would she?’
His mother wouldn’t have accepted Christina either.
‘You’re saying nothing, Andrew. That’s not fair. You should tell me what you are thinking.’
Among other things he was thinking that the result of the elections, to be declared tomorrow night, was more irrelevant than ever; to him at any rate. He felt depressed and disappointed.
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow,’ he said and turning his back on her prepared to go to sleep.
But it was a long time before either of them slept.
In the morning she told him she did not want to talk about it.