Page 196 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
‘Flowers won’t be back from honeymoon yet,’ she said, ‘so it will just be the parents. Do you want me to stay or meet you afterwards?’
‘Stay,’ said James firmly. ‘You’ve had to deal with my erratic behaviour – you have a right to know what I have to say.’
Libby felt nervous at his words but he was treating her as an adult and she would give him whatever support he needed.
The Dunlops welcomed them enthusiastically with broad smiles and a lavish afternoon tea. Danny attempted to stand to greet his important guest.
‘It’s an honour to have you here, sir,’ Danny said.
Libby thought how much happier and more invigorated he looked since his daughter’s engagement and marriage.
‘Please, there’s no need,’ James said, embarrassed by the younger man’s deference.
‘And so jolly kind of you to entertain our daughter at your home in Assam,’ added Winnie.
As they took tea, Danny asked a string of questions about life in Newcastle.
‘We hope one day to visit with our new son-in-law George,’ said Danny. ‘Don’t we, dear?’
Winnie nodded. ‘He is such a nice boy. We are very pleased for Flowers. I’m sorry you’ve missed her. Are you staying long in Calcutta?’
‘No,’ said James, ‘not long.’
‘Pity,’ said Danny.
Libby could tell her father was trying to summon the courage to say what he had come to say. She could hardly bear to hear what it was but feared that he might leave without unburdening what weighed so heavily on his mind.
‘Dad,’ she coaxed, ‘don’t you have something to tell MrDunlop about MrFairfax?’
James shot her a look of alarm. Danny’s face lit up in expectation.
‘You’ve discovered something about my tea planting father?’ he asked.
James pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow; he was the only one perspiring.
‘I— I have something to tell you,’ he began hesitantly. ‘I’m not sure you will thank me – it’s not what you might want ... but when I saw the details, I realised ...’
Libby, who was sitting next to her father, put a hand on his in encouragement. ‘You mean the details in Flowers’s letter about MrDunlop?’
He looked at her and for a moment she saw the fear in his eyes.
‘So you remembered something?’ she prompted.
James nodded. He took a deep breath and turned his gaze on Danny.
‘Do you remember anything about your early childhood?’ James asked.
Danny stroked his moustache. ‘Very little. I’m sure I remember tea bushes though – and playing on a wide veranda – sitting next to thepunkah-wallah.’ He gave a half-laugh. ‘I don’t remember the names of my parents but I remember his; isn’t that strange? Sunil Ram.’
Libby gasped and looked at her father. That was the name he had cried out in his nightmares at Cheviot View.
‘I knew you as a boy,’ said James, his voice trembling, ‘until you were about three years old.’
Danny looked at him in astonishment. ‘Really? Where was that?’
‘At the Oxford Estates. That’s where you were born.’
‘Good heavens!’ cried Danny. ‘Did you work with my father?’
