Page 152 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
CHAPTER 31
Newcastle, August
Just come with me to see it,’ James pleaded with Tilly.
She was brushing her hair in front of the dressing-table mirror, her back to him. He tried to catch her look in the mirror but she was studiously avoiding eye contact. It was almost impossible to have a private conversation with his wife as there was always someone else with her in the house or she was dashing out to one of her numerous commitments, leaving him with long hours on his hands. If he didn’t have his trips to Willowburn Estate up the Tyne valley to go riding, James knew he would not be able to endure his retirement.
It was kind Adela who had come to his rescue and contacted Tommy, the stable master there, who had introduced James to the genial Major and his nice family. James relished his twice-weekly rides around the estate and talking about tea and India to Major Gibson, who had once been a young subaltern in Burma. When the Major had offered to rent James a house on the estate, he had jumped at the chance. He knew that, given time, he and Tilly could recreate the loving home they had once shared in Assam.
So he curbed his irritation and said to Tilly’s back, ‘The house is big enough for you to do your entertaining and you can furnish it anyway you want. You’ll make it into just as comfortable a home as Cheviot View. And the grounds are spectacular—’
‘Cheviot View!’ Tilly exclaimed. ‘God forbid. I don’t see why we have to live so far from Newcastle.’
‘It’s not far and I thought we’d agreed to give it a try?’ James said in exasperation. ‘I’ve more or less promised Gus Gibson that we’ll take it. And he has the most charming young American wife, Martha – she’ll be company for you.’
‘I’ve got the company I want here in Newcastle,’ she replied.
‘But the Major has been most accommodating ...’
‘You shouldn’t have made promises before I’ve had a chance to see it,’ said Tilly, her hair brushing becoming more vigorous.
‘I’m giving you the chance now,’ James cried. ‘A trip out. The fresh air will do you good.’
‘Fresh air is overrated. Unless it’s sea air.’
She carried on brushing the same wavy piece of hair, though there were no knots left in it. James noticed how it had lost its reddish sheen and was peppered with grey at the roots.
‘Tilly! When I suggested StAbbs to be near Johnny, you said you didn’t want to move to the seaside. I wouldn’t mind that – somewhere near the River Tweed for fishing.’
‘No, I don’t want to live in StAbbs either,’ said Tilly in agitation. ‘Visiting Johnny is one thing – but hearty Helena would drive me mad as my neighbour.’
‘Then what do you want?’ James demanded.
She paused in her brushing and turned to face him. ‘You know what I want – to stay in the city.’
‘But this house is too small,’ James pointed out. ‘Especially with all the extra lodgers you seem to have acquired.’
Tilly gave him a sharp look. ‘They’re not lodgers. Adela and Sam are family – and Josey is like a sister to me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ James relented. ‘I didn’t mean that I don’t want Adela and Sam living with us.’ Privately, he could quite happily see the back of the chain-smoking Josey and her droll waspish remarks.
Tilly said, ‘Poor things haven’t found settling back here very easy so the last thing Adela and Sam need is for us to throw them out.’
‘I don’t want to throw anyone out,’ protested James.
In fact, life in the house would be intolerable without Adela and her affable husband. Years ago, he had misjudged Sam as a rootless dreamer who would never stick long at any job, and had resented him for being critical of how workers were treated on the Oxford Estates. But since returning to Newcastle James had quickly grown fond of Sam: he was hardworking and a devoted husband to Clarrie’s daughter. With Sam he could reminisce about India, and the younger man understood how he missed his old home in Assam.
‘If we move to the countryside,’ said Tilly, ‘that’s exactly what will happen. Adela and Sam can’t possibly carry on the café if they’re stuck out at Willowburn.’
‘They have a van,’ said James. ‘It’s not a long drive.’
‘It is with petrol still rationed. They wouldn’t manage. You have no idea how hard life has been in Britain.’
James sighed in frustration. His wife never tired of telling him of all the deprivation those on the Home Front had suffered during the War. When he had alluded to how dangerous Assam had become under imminent threat from a Japanese invasion, Tilly had said that it just made her all the more thankful that she hadn’t returned to India with the children.
‘Tilly,’ James said, trying to stay calm, ‘I just want us to have a proper family home – big enough to accommodate us all – so that Jamie can stay whenever he wants and Libby will have her own room when she returns.’
Tilly seized on this. ‘I can’t believe you let her stay on alone in India,’ she chided.
