Page 130 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
Sophie gave her an affectionate pat on the arm. ‘Och, those Khan boys and their irresistible charm!’
Libby grinned. ‘I know, who would have thought it? I didn’t take to him straight away – and we got off on quite the wrong foot – but I fell in love with him over large slices of cake and a lot of political talk.’
Sophie laughed. ‘That sounds just like Ghulam.’
‘The thing is,’ said Libby, ‘since we’ve started writing to each other I feel like I know him better than anyone. Yet the last time we met he made it quite clear that nothing could come of our friendship. Despite his newsy letters, I’m still not sure that he sees me as anything more than a penfriend.’
‘Well, there’s only one way of finding out,’ said Sophie, ‘and that’s seeing him again in person.’
‘So you think I should?’
‘If you care for him, then, yes, I do. Rafi was brave enough to come looking for me in the hopes that I felt the same way as he did. I’ve given thanks every day since that he did.’
Libby leant towards Sophie and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Rafi will look after himself. He’s not going to do anything rash – he adores you too much to put himself in danger.’
‘Thank you, dearie,’ said Sophie.
Libby had hoped they might plunge into one of the more tranquil pools but Sophie was restless. She didn’t want to linger by the waterfall and her nervousness put Libby on edge too. They packed up after half an hour and rode home.
To Libby’s surprise, Clarrie wasn’t at work. She and James were sitting on the veranda playing backgammon while Harry practised tennisshots against the godown wall. Libby’s insides clenched at the scene of domesticity. Maybe Clarrie had organised the picnic trip so that she and Harry could have James to themselves for one last day. Libby felt like an intruder. On an impulse, she stopped Sophie on the path to the house.
‘Would you take me to see your Ayah Mimi?’
Sophie looked at her in surprise.
Libby went on hastily. ‘I know she’s a holy woman now and has removed herself from the world but I remember her from my childhood and I’d love to see her before I go. Do you think she would see me?’
After a moment’s hesitation, Sophie nodded.
‘Ayah Mimi was always very fond of you Robson children,’ Sophie said, ‘especially you, Libby.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because you weren’t afraid of an old woman,’ said Sophie. ‘Let me speak to her first and ask.’
They diverted round the bungalow and the servants’ compound to the furthest part of the garden where Ayah Mimi’s hut was almost obscured by creepers and overhanging trees. Sophie entered the hut alone to see her old nurse. Libby stood outside wondering what had prompted her sudden urge to see the oldsadhvi. It was not just to avoid Clarrie and her father. Ayah Mimi was one of the special threads that bound Libby to her early childhood in India, a lowly woman servant who, in later life, had chosen a life of independence and self-reliance by becoming a holy woman.
According to Sophie, the old nurse had saved baby Sam from his deranged father and then, having been forced to hand Sam over, had spent years looking for him. In later times, both Sophie and Sam had been reunited with their former ayah, here at Belgooree. Libby had to admit that once again, it was big-hearted Clarrie who had cared for the old woman and given her a home.
Sophie reappeared with a tiny, hunched figure in a white sari leaning on her arm. Her hair was snow-white and her leathery face wasdaubed with yellow and white lines. Ayah Mimi blinked in the light and when she caught sight of Libby, her dark eyes lit up and she gave a wide toothless smile.
Libby felt a lump in her throat. ‘Mataji,’ she greeted the old woman respectfully.
Ayah Mimi lifted up a hand and beckoned Libby closer. As Libby bent towards her, thesadhvitouched her cheek with scrawny fingers.
‘Sit, sit, my daughter,’ she said, lowering herself on to the rush mat that Sophie had brought outside with them. Libby and Sophie sat either side of her and she held on to their hands.
Ayah Mimi asked about Libby’s family and Libby told her of the long time away from India and what her brothers were doing now. Eventually, thesadhvisaid, ‘I’m glad your family are well but something is troubling you?’
Libby’s insides tensed. ‘I’m worried about my father – whether he will cope back in England – but also because something is causing him mental pain and I don’t know what it is. He won’t talk about it.’
Ayah Mimi gazed at her with eyes full of compassion. She let silence fall about them. Libby thought she wasn’t going to say anything in reply and then she reached out her hand and laid it on Libby’s head.
The old woman closed her eyes and began to murmur. Libby didn’t understand the words but her head felt suddenly hot where thesadhvi’s hand rested. She became acutely aware of the twitter of birds in the trees above. Suddenly, the knot in her stomach that had been there since leaving Cheviot View dissolved and a new feeling of calm spread through her. Libby felt tears running down her cheeks and into her mouth.
Sophie handed her a handkerchief with a kind smile. Ayah Mimi opened her eyes and, without another word, climbed to her feet. When Sophie and Libby tried to help her indoors, she waved off their attempts and disappeared back inside her hut.
Libby was too overwhelmed to speak. Sophie slipped an arm through hers as they walked slowly back towards the house. Libbywasn’t sure quite what she had just experienced – a blessing of sorts perhaps – but it gave her courage to face the uncertain days ahead. She hoped it might help her father too in some way – though she doubted his demons would be put to rest by the fluttering of asadhvi’s hand.
