Page 131 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
Early the next morning, Daleep stood waiting by the car, ready to drive Libby and her father to the railway station at Gowhatty. Once in Calcutta, they were to stay with the Watsons. After James’s flight and the Watsons’ departure, Libby had arranged that she would stay on in New House for a week or so while the house was made ready for sale, and then return to Belgooree for a final visit.
A sleepy Harry emerged yawning and tousle-haired to say goodbye. Libby said quick farewells to Clarrie, Sophie and Harry, hugging them and promising to be back in time for the August celebrations. She was eager to be on her way. Turning at the top of the veranda steps, she saw her father struggling to speak.
James stuck out his hand to Harry. ‘Look after your mother,’ he rasped.
Harry’s eyes filled with sudden tears. To Libby’s astonishment, the tall youth ignored the handshake and flung his arms around James.
‘I’ll miss you,’ Harry mumbled.
James clutched him hard for a moment and then, with a pat on the back, pushed him away. Sophie stepped forward.
‘Give my love to Tilly,’ she said with a fond smile. ‘And thank you for all you’ve done for me ever since I was a child. I would never have survived or thrived without your help. You’ve been like a guardian angel.’
‘Nonsense,’ James pooh-poohed.
‘It’s true,’ said Sophie. ‘And I hope one day, when everything is settled, that you will visit me and Rafi.’
‘I’d like that,’ James said with a bashful smile.
She gave James a swift hug and a peck on the cheek and stood back.
Clarrie had been standing very still since hugging Libby goodbye. She and James looked at each other. Libby could see her father swallowing hard. Then Clarrie reached out her hands to him. He grasped them like a lifeline. For a long moment they stood, their faces etched with sorrow. James cleared his throat to speak but Clarrie spoke first.
‘Thank you for being my friend during the dark days after I lost Wesley.’
‘You don’t have to thank me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘It’s me who owes you the greater debt. I shall miss Belgooree.’
‘I know you will,’ she said gently.
Libby suspected they were really saying how much they would miss each other.
‘Goodbye, James.’ Clarrie leant up to kiss his cheek.
In one swift movement, James cupped his hands around her face and kissed her on the lips. It was a fleeting but intimate gesture. Abruptly, James turned away and strode to the steps, his eyes swimming with tears.
Hastily, Libby descended the stairs ahead of him, her heart thumping. The stolen kiss had upset her but she wasn’t sure if it was shock at her father being over-familiar with Clarrie or sadness on their behalf.
Just at that moment, Breckon came tearing round the corner of the house, barking and leaping up at James. Libby’s father let the dog lick him and then briefly buried his face in Breckon’s neck. Pulling away, he called to Harry to take the dog. Harry jumped down the steps and held Breckon by his collar, giving pats of reassurance, while James hurried to the car.
Moments later, Libby was sitting beside her father in the back of the car as they trundled down the drive. James craned round for a final view of the white weathered bungalow festooned in flowering creepers. A sob caught in his throat. In that moment Libby realised that herfather saw this moment as the real farewell to India – not Cheviot View or the Oxford – but Belgooree which had been a haven to them all. It also struck her how James had not only been a companion to Clarrie but also a father figure to young Harry. They would probably miss him as much as he would miss them.
She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it, hoping to comfort him in some small way. They passed the factory buildings where the office staff had come out to wave them away, including a beaming Nitin to whom Libby had lent her typewriter until her return.
‘What a nice gesture,’ said Libby. But James was too overcome to shout a farewell. Her father didn’t speak again until Belgooree and its tea gardens were long out of sight.
