Page 172 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
They had barely got the iron and mesh gates of the compound shut with Nitin’s help when they heard the commotion on the garden road. Men were shouting and yelling. It was no more than half an hour since Libby had awoken to the first sounds of trouble. She was appalled at the speed at which danger had arrived at their door.
Clarrie ordered Mohammed Din to hide his family in the house and then handed him a gun with which to protect them.
‘Where’s Manzur?’ Libby cried.
The women looked at each other in alarm. The garden school lay beyond the compound.
‘Banu will be making sure he’s safe,’ Clarrie said. ‘And he’s got Breckon with him.’
She handed them both hunting rifles. ‘You know how to handle one of these, don’t you?’ Clarrie asked them.
‘Aye,’ said Sophie.
‘Not really,’ said Libby.
Clarrie smiled in reassurance. ‘It won’t come to that. Here, take Wesley’s old revolver – just something to scare them off.’
Libby felt nauseated by fear. It was the same feeling of helplessness that she had experienced in Amelia Buildings, knowing that a man had been brutally and randomly murdered in the street below. What she wouldn’t give to be back in Calcutta with Ghulam now! She had never felt more vulnerable.
The commotion grew louder as more men arrived. Looking through the binoculars from the veranda Libby could see them milling around beyond the gates. Most looked young, dressed in grubbydhotisand vests. They were wielding lathis and knives, and shouting angrily. Onelet off a gun. Others seized the mesh of the gate and violently shook it, trying to find a way through.
Libby felt her insides go to jelly. She marvelled at how Clarrie and Sophie kept calm and reached for their rifles.
‘Do you recognise any of them?’ Clarrie asked Sophie.
Sophie took another look through the binoculars. ‘That older man – the one in an army jacket – he’s one of the palace police. Name is Sen.’ She passed the field glasses to Clarrie.
‘He’s standing back letting them get out of control,’ said Clarrie in disgust.
‘But he’ll be in charge,’ said Sophie.
The demands of the men grew into a chant.
‘What are they shouting?’ Libby asked.
Clarrie didn’t answer as she kept watch from the steps.
Sophie swallowed hard. ‘They’re shouting for me.’
Libby began to shake. She could hear it now: the shrieks for Khan memsahib. She gaped at Sophie in disbelief.
‘Stourton’s given you away,’ Libby gasped. ‘Why would he do that?’
Sophie shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t have. Word travels easily, that’s all. This can’t be Robert’s doing.’
But Libby saw the doubt on her friend’s face.
Just then, a shot cracked the air. ‘Stay out of sight,’ Clarrie barked at them.
Libby and Sophie dived down behind furniture. Libby heard a shriek of triumph. She peered out. One of the young men, with the help of others, had scrambled up the stone gatepost and was almost over the wall. In horror, she saw Clarrie hurry down the steps, calling to Alok as she went.
‘Fetch the old speaking trumpet – the one we use for the garden sports’ days.’
‘Clarrie don’t!’ Sophie cried.
Nitin went with Clarrie. As Alok emerged with the loudhailer, Libby grabbed it from him and dashed after them, revolver in her other hand. Clarrie looked at her in alarm.
‘They’re less likely to shoot at me than Alok,’ Libby said.
