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Libby’s spirits plunged. She had been looking forward to having Adela and Sam living in Newcastle on her return. It would make it easier to adapt once again to life in Britain. She could talk to them about India and the people they knew without being told she was being a bore. But she could see how thrilled Clarrie was at the thought of her daughter and son-in-law returning. She tried to be cheerful.

‘I’m so glad for you – and for Harry. When are they planning to come back?’

‘Possibly as early as the end of September,’ said Clarrie. ‘It’s a matter of getting the café transferred back into my niece Jane’s hands.’

‘So – so Adela is as keen on the idea as Sam?’ Libby asked.

Clarrie met her look. ‘Yes, why shouldn’t she be?’

Libby said, ‘You see, I know why Adela was so set on returning to Newcastle. I know about her baby – the whole story.’

Clarrie flushed. ‘Oh, did Adela ...? She told you that ...?’

‘Yes, before I left Newcastle,’ said Libby. ‘I was at Lexy’s flat when Adela got upset and Lexy told her she might as well tell me why.’

Clarrie’s eyes welled with tears. She glanced away. Libby saw her struggling to speak and felt guilty for causing her pain.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said ...’

‘No, Libby, don’t be sorry. I’m glad Adela had you to confide in.’ Clarrie took a deep breath. ‘She’s decided to stop looking for the boy. I think both she and Sam want to make a new start and in time – if they are blessed – have their own children.’

Libby squeezed Clarrie’s arm in comfort. ‘Perhaps that’s all for the best. Sam adores Adela but it must put a strain on things if she’s been looking for another man’s child all this time, don’t you think?’

Clarrie nodded. She put a hand to Libby’s cheek. ‘Where do you get such wisdom from at your age?’

Libby looked rueful. ‘It’s easy being wise about other people’s business – I’m continually making a hash of my own.’

Clarrie said abruptly, ‘I’m so sorry, Libby, I quite forgot: there’s a letter for you in the dak. With Adela’s news, it slipped my mind.’

Libby felt her pulse begin to race as Clarrie flicked through the pile of post.

‘Is it from Calcutta?’ she asked eagerly.

Clarrie gave her a look of pity. ‘Sorry, no. It’s from home. It looks like your mother’s writing.’

Libby stifled her disappointment and took the letter. ‘Thanks anyway.’

They walked back to the bungalow in silence as Libby read Tilly’s letter. It was full of news of her usual activities and social engagements, of Jamie’s job and Mungo’s sport-filled summer holiday. Her younger brother was spending every day playing cricket or tennis. There was no mention of Mungo going riding with their father or spending time with him; in fact, there was precious little mention of James at all until the end.

... Your father is being very tiresome about where we live. The house I’ve found in Jesmond is absolutely perfect, with heaps of space and a lovely garden and overlooking the Dene – darling, you will love it! But he is persisting in his idea of making us all de-camp to the country and live in a draughty cottage like some bucolic peasants in a Shakespearean play.

It’s high time you came home, Libby, and talked some sense into him. When are you coming back? I don’t see why you have to stay on at Belgooree. What on earth is there for you to do there? Besides, you mustn’t outstay your welcome with Clarrie – she’s really been far too kind to waif-and-stray Robsons. Come home, darling – we’re all missing you. If you’re running short of money, your father willwire some out to you so you can buy air flights home. Don’t attempt to go to Bombay and get a passage – it sounds far too risky and I imagine the ships will be chock-a-block with troops and civilians trying to get back to Britain.

What news of Sophie and Rafi? I do worry for them. If Sophie is still there, give her my love – and Clarrie too.

Love

Mother x

‘Does she mention anything about Adela and Sam?’ Clarrie asked her as they reached the house.

Libby shook her head. ‘Here, you can read it. She thinks I’m outstaying my welcome.’ She handed Clarrie the letter. ‘And Dad is obviously driving her mad.’

‘Oh dear, poor Tilly,’ said Clarrie, ‘and poor James.’ She laid a hand affectionately on Libby’s head and smiled. ‘But you are certainly not outstaying your welcome. I love having you here and you can stay as long as you want.’

September came but there was no news from Rafi. Libby knew she should be making arrangements to fly home but didn’t want to leave Belgooree without Sophie. Given the turmoil in the wider country, they had agreed to travel together. Then one morning, as the women and Harry were finishing breakfast, two letters arrived: one for Libby from James and one for Sophie from Rafi.

Sophie almost snatched hers from the hand of thechaprassyand tore it open. As Harry excused himself and ran off with Breckon at his side, Libby and Clarrie waited in anticipation for Rafi’s news.