Harish and Delilah watched as the taxi came slowly up the drive, bringing Meera and Mr Gupta to Wishanger for the weekend. Harish was now beginning to drop the word ‘Hall’ when referring to the house, which was what everyone else seemed to do. The couple had left early and had the rest of the weekend to relax and enjoy their surroundings. The same driver had been booked to pick them up at nine on Monday morning. Chandu could manage for a few hours with Romesh for help, and the break would do them good.
Meera was silent as the magnitude of the house became apparent, and Mr Gupta gave a low whistle.
‘Even bigger than I thought,’ he said, looking to his wife who was gripping the back of the seat in front of her. ‘I did not expect it. How can he manage this house with so few staff to help him?’
‘Well, his uncle has been managing it for many years, so he will find a way,’ she said to her husband, knowing that the last thing Harish would want or need right now was negativity and doubt. He probably had enough of his own at the enormity of the task he had undertaken and agreed to.
‘Yes of course I understand. We must support him, I know this, but I am concerned…’
‘Then this concern must be concealed,’ said Meera, firmly. ‘It is not our place, nor will it help him in any way to hear that we are worried.’
Mr Gupta said no more, but thanked his lucky stars that he was the owner of a small hardware store in a London suburb, and not the earl of a vast estate that would hang around his neck like a ball and chain for the rest of his life.
‘Here they are,’ said Harish, watching as the taxi came down the long drive. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked, smiling.
Delilah laughed. ‘I imagine Meera will go straight down to the kitchen to inspect our dinner for this evening.’
‘I’ve already warned Jessie, so no worries there.’
‘She has not seemed herself lately,’ said Delilah. ‘I am hoping that this weekend I will be able to talk to her and ask what is wrong.’
‘Do you think she’s worried about you being here, with me, on your own?’
‘No,’ replied Delilah. ‘I do not think that this is the case. She knows there are others here, and we are old enough to do as we wish. This is not India after all.’
‘I should say,’ said Harish, looking around him. ‘It couldn’t be any more different if it tried. Well, here they are…’
The car pulled up in front of them and they both hurried forward to welcome their first guests. Benson was standing under the large porticoed porch ready to take their cases inside, then hurry back downstairs to make sure everything else was in order. Jessie had mid-morning coffee and tea ready, and homemade biscuits which she hoped Meera would approve of. Despite Harish’s concerns, Jessie had none whatsoever. She was looking forward to meeting the woman that she’d heard so much about, and hoped the feeling was reciprocated.
The changes in the house over the past few weeks had all met with her approval, including the removal of the broken bedsteads and rotten mattresses from the top floor. Each room had been swept clean, and the floors and windows washed. The panelling that covered the door to the chapel was now kept permanently open, Harish insisting upon this because it was in daily use. As requested by his Uncle Charles, the artist had been commissioned to paint his portrait. He had already been three times, and as he had insisted, his uncle finally relented, and agreed to be painted too. The pair met each day for coffee and seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Harish and Delilah had also been to Charles’s cottage many times, enjoying its small cosy rooms and the company of the man they were beginning to like and know well.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ said Harish holding open the door of the car. Meera stepped out and gave him a hug, kissing both cheeks before studying him closely.
‘Do you think I’ve changed much in two weeks?’ he asked her. ‘What do you think will be different?’ He laughed, and unfazed, Meera continued to gaze at him intently.
‘Who can say?’ she replied. ‘But I will find out!’
She turned to address her niece. ‘Delilah, you have lost weight, is this not so? Are you eating enough?’
‘I am eating plenty, Auntie,’ Delilah replied. ‘Only Harish makes me work from morning until night, cleaning and sweeping. I am worn thin by this and not lack of food.’
‘Take no notice, Meera,’ said Harish. ‘She lies on the sofa all day eating sweets. I think she’s gaining weight not losing it!’
‘This is a very fine house,’ said Mr Gupta, ‘but larger than I thought. How will you manage?’ he asked, careful not to sound anxious and stir Meera’s wrath.
‘With great difficulty probably, but I have some ideas, and Uncle Charles has plenty too. We’ll manage.’
They followed him to the huge front door, Mr Gupta clearly in awe of the old place. Meera didn’t seem to be in awe at all, just interested, her arm linked through Delilah’s, excited and happy to be near her adored niece again.
‘Please come in. Jessie’s been baking all sorts of things especially for Meera and can’t wait to meet you all. We’ll have coffee and then you can look around the house or outside, whatever you like. It’s so nice to see you,’ said Harish. He meant it too. He was fond of Delilah’s aunt and uncle. They were good people, hardworking, and in their own way, very interesting. He knew Meera meant a lot to his mother. They were very different, but perhaps that itself was the strength in their relationship, each able to give the other what they didn’t have themselves?
His mother and the entourage, as he now thought of them, would be here in a few weeks. Meera and Mr Gupta, as he always thought of him, not Vasu as he’d been asked to call him, might come again then too. It would be odd to have so many people in the house, but good to have some of the many bedrooms filled. His mother had decided not to bring Rajinder with her this time, which he thought odd. He wouldn’t have minded at all. He liked the man. He was decent and clever, and they’d had many interesting conversations late into the night after his mother had gone to bed.
He wondered if they would eventually marry? He was sure that Rajinder would do so in a flash, but his mother? He wasn’t sure, but overall felt it would be a good thing. Anyway, what would happen would happen of its own accord without any involvement from him. He may well have love complications of his own with Delilah at some point in the future, and that would be enough to deal with!
His mother had also said there was something she wanted to discuss with him, although he had no idea what that might be. He could do without any further revelations at this moment in time, feeling that he had quite enough on his plate as it was, but suspected another one was to come whether he liked it or not. More skeletons coming out of the closet aside, he was looking forward to seeing her and the others and showing them around.
Benson was hurrying down the stairs just as they walked into the entrance hall. Mr Gupta said nothing, stunned perhaps into silence by its echoey vastness, which would hold at least three hardware stores such as his.
Meera gazed around her. ‘So big,’ she whispered, ‘and so difficult to clean. Your house in Delhi is large but nothing like this.’
‘My feelings exactly when I first saw it,’ laughed Harish, ‘but even though it’s only been a few weeks, I’ve got used to it. We have two fabulous housekeepers, as you see, who make sure everything looks immaculate. Come through to the library first, and we can have coffee and plan our day.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ said Meera, ‘I would like to visit Jessie. She and I have much to share with each other, and the sooner we meet the better it will be for us both.’ It was true too. Not only eager to meet the cook of the house that Delilah had spoken so highly about, she also wanted to discuss recipes, both traditional and modern. She had much to learn, and where better than in a stately home?
‘Of course, if that’s what you want. I’m sure she feels the same. I’ll show you where she is.’ Harish took her down the long flight of shallow stone steps that led to the big kitchen below the house.
Pushing the door open in front of her, Meera was astonished at the size of the room she had just walked into. ‘My kitchen is like a cupboard!’ she cried. ‘But this is the perfect size to cook for such a large house and the many people who will visit.’ Seeing who she assumed was Jessie in the far corner she hurried over, and taking the lady by surprise, threw her arms around her in an affectionate hug. ‘Oh, how I have been looking forward to meeting you! I have been told so many things, and you are exactly as I have seen you in my imagination!’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘And I?’ she continued. ‘You have been wondering about me?’
Jessie was thrilled to have Meera in her kitchen at last. She too had spent many hours wondering about the woman she had heard so much about, and whose cooking skills were discussed at great length by her niece. She had also sensed that they would like each other immediately, and in this she was correct. Meera was stunning, which was a surprise, her dark skin clear and almost without lines, despite her age. She was dressed in a sari of green and gold and was adorned with matching gold jewellery. Her long hair was piled upon her head in a coiled plait, and Jessie had never seen anyone even remotely as exotic or beautiful, and looking like they had stepped from a catwalk. Her own hair was a pale shade of mouse, although she had washed and set it herself the previous evening, in preparation for the first guests to arrive at the hall in a very long time. She was also short in comparison to Meera, and rather plump, her soft blue eyes about as different as it was possible to be from Meera’s dark brown ones, that flashed with fire and excitement as she looked around the room.
‘My aunt has passion!’ Delilah had said the previous evening. ‘She feels things strongly and reacts quickly. There is nothing in her that is, how do you say it, wish wash?’
‘I think you mean wishy washy,’ Jessie replied, ‘but keep saying wish wash. I much prefer it!’
Jessie thought that if anyone was wishy washy, in looks, at least, it was herself, but she had come to terms with her appearance some time ago and was thrilled to be in the presence of someone who was totally the opposite, in just about every way possible.
‘Absolutely!’ she replied to Meera’s question. ‘I’ve thought about you a lot and have been so looking forward to you coming here. You have a lot to see, and I know that there will be quite a few demands on your time, but do come down when you can, and we can talk. I live not far from here in a cottage behind the house, so you can visit me there too if you want.’ She laughed. ‘It’s quite a bit smaller than this though, so I hope you won’t be disappointed.’
Meera held her hand tightly. ‘It will be more like home, I am sure. We are modest people, Jessie. Mr Gupta comes home in the evening with oil on his face, and my hair smells of baking! I will become lost in this huge house.’
Harish had been listening to the two women talking and was happy that they had hit it off so well. ‘No need to worry, Meera,’ he said, smiling. ‘We’ll come looking if you go missing. Just keep yelling and we’ll know where to find you…’
The weekend passed quickly. The Guptas were given a full guided tour of the house and land nearby. They visited Charles in his cottage, and Jessie in hers, and were also taken to the small town nearby to have a look around. They seemed enthralled with everything, and even Mr Gupta’s initial reservations and concerns about the maintenance of the house and other responsibilities that Harish had taken on, slowly began to lessen. Although realising that there was little he could do, he offered advice and support if it was ever needed. He admired the young man for shouldering such a burden, and watched with interest as Harish strolled around the place as though he had been born there. His ancestors had been, and he supposed it had been passed down through the blood that Harish had in him. Whatever it was, he was glad to see it. His interest in Wishanger had grown further, and his head was full of ideas that might bring in some money to supplement the estate’s small income. He had also taken to Charles Hope who had eaten with them each evening and spoken openly about errors made in the past, and his desire to put things right. This had been accepted at face value, and all were relieved because of it.
Meera and Jessie had struck up a firm friendship, even in such a short time, and on Sunday afternoon the pair sat in Jessie’s own kitchen in her cottage and had a heart-to-heart about a variety of things.
‘You’re worried about Delilah, I can see that,’ said Jessie. They were both sitting at a round table that fitted perfectly in the small bay window that looked over the countryside towards Wishanger. A pot of tea and a plate of cakes was placed between them, and waiting for Meera to reply, she picked up the pot and began to pour.
‘This is true,’ said Meera. ‘I always worry. I know these days young girls do as they wish, and mostly I approve, but she is my niece. Her feelings for Harish are not returned. For him, she is like a sister and no more.’
‘They’ll make their own mistakes. We all do, and these days there’s little that can be done to stop them. She’s a smart girl, and I’m sure is aware of the situation. He relies on her a lot, you know? Maybe things will change?’ As she said this, she doubted that it would be the case.
Hearing what Jessie said did little to give Meera comfort, but as she contemplated further, an image of Mo came to mind. She reached over to pat her new friend’s hand. ‘Things will work themselves out, is that not so?’
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Jessie. ‘They will. Now, let me show you around. It’s a bit like a dolls house, but I’ve lived here for years now, and I love it.’
Meera loved it too, but a part of her longed to be back in the city, despite the noise and the dust, and the night-time buzz that never stopped. She wanted to be back in the hardware store, find out how her cakes and pastries had sold, and whether there would be a repeat order for the following week. She desperately hoped that there would be.
***
As he had expected, Benson had also taken a liking to the outspoken Meera Gupta, and had revealed to her far more about himself than he had intended. He thought her exceedingly beautiful, and that she had great depth of both spirit and soul that perhaps others didn’t recognise. He did, and valued it greatly. On her way to visit Jessie, Meera had visited Charles in his own cottage, and had been welcomed, quite literally, with open arms. He thought her wonderful, not just beautiful, and like an exotic flower in the green Wishanger landscape, as well as honest and frank in the most refreshing and attractive way.
‘If you weren’t already married,’ he said, ‘then I would make you an offer, or however it’s termed in India. I’d probably have to ask permission from your brother given that your parents are no longer alive, is that right?’
‘It is,’ she replied, rather taken aback, but flattered none the less. She wasn’t used to flattery, although Mr Gupta told her she was beautiful all the time. Babita had too, and Delilah did her best to raise her aunt’s self-esteem, but to be spoken to in this way by a stranger was rather pleasant. It made her feel warm inside, and rather empowered.
‘You are very kind, but as you say I am spoken for.’
‘Mr Gupta is a very lucky man.’
‘I tell him this frequently,’ she replied, patting one of the spaniels on its silky head. ‘Marriage may not be on the cards for us, Charles Hope, uncle of Harish, but we shall be great friends, and will spend many happy times together.’
This pact was heartily agreed to by Charles, and it was all he could do to keep back the tears that threatened to roll down his face. This was noticed by Meera who grasped his hand tightly. Glad to be touching her, even if he was making a fool of himself, Charles grasped her hand back, hoping that some of the fragrance that wafted around her might be left on him, or perhaps linger in the room, so that he could remember the moment in the days to come after she had gone.
‘You must come to see us in the city. We have plenty of room, and I think you will like the store, everyone does. I’m not sure why this is so, but it is. Delilah says the place is special and has ‘good vibes.’ She giggled. ‘Harish also said the same. These words are new to me, but if I had to describe it in my own language, I would say that good spirits dwell there.’
‘And good ones who are not yet spirits,’ added Charles, both humbled and in awe of the stunning lady in front of him. ‘As you say, we have much to look forward to, my dear,’ he said. ‘And I shall most certainly visit you in London and the store as well. Just try to keep me away…’