Page 149 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
In minutes they were dressing again, almost bashful with each other at the passion that had seized them. Someone could have walked on to the roof at any moment. What they had just done was madness. He was like a summer fever in her veins.
‘I’ll see you back to Sudder Street,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
Downstairs, Ghulam hailed a rickshaw. They sat in silence as it bumped along Park Street and Chowringhee Street, before turning into Sudder Street. As the vehicle swayed and jostled them together on the short journey, Libby was acutely aware of their arms and thighs touching for the last time and savoured every last painfully sweet moment. It was over all too soon. As Libby dismounted, she felt misery claw at her insides.
‘Will you write to me?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘If you’d like me to.’
‘Yes, very much.’
The street was still busy. People were glancing at them in curiosity.
They stood for a moment, gazing at each other with regret. Libby thought she would always remember the tender look he gave her. He took her hand and held it, squeezing it in encouragement.
‘Take care of yourself, Libby,’ he said.
‘And you,’ she answered, swallowing down tears.
He disengaged his hand and clambered back into the rickshaw but waited to see her walk safely into the building where the Dunlops lived. Libby smiled and waved and turned away, forcing herself to walk into the building and not look back. She failed. As she glanced round to give one more wave, the rickshaw driver was already pulling away. All she could see was the back of Ghulam’s dark head as the rickshaw vanished into the sultry night.
