Page 162 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
She saw tears brimming in Clarrie’s eyes.
‘I hope that’s not true,’ said Clarrie. ‘Please, whatever you do, don’t ever tell James what I’ve just said about him. It won’t help matters.’
Abruptly their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a motor engine chugging up the drive. They exchanged glances.
‘It couldn’t be Rafi, could it?’ Sophie cried, seized with sudden hope.
She took off at a sprint across the garden and round the side of the bungalow. Libby and Clarrie hurried after her.
Libby didn’t recognise the man who climbed out of an old Chevrolet. He was middle-aged and tallish with a slight stoop, dressed smartly in a white uniform and clutching an old-fashioned topee. He was already shaking Sophie by the hand.
As Libby and Clarrie caught up, Libby heard Sophie asking anxiously, ‘But how did you know I was here?’
‘An educated guess,’ he answered, ‘that you would take refuge with friends.’
Sophie introduced him. ‘This is MrRobert Stourton, the Agent from Gulgat,’ she said, tension in her voice.
‘Ex-Agent,’ he said with a stiff smile. ‘As of two weeks ago, I’m officially retired from government duties.’ He shook hands with Clarrie. ‘I was acquainted with your late husband. A good man. Terrible business.’
‘Yes it was,’ said Clarrie, keeping her composure. ‘I believe you were on that tiger hunt too, MrStourton.’
He shot her a look of alarm. ‘Y-yes, I was as a matter of fact. We did what we could. I’m awfully sorry.’
‘Please don’t be,’ said Clarrie. ‘No one could have saved Wesley. It was a tragic accident.’ She turned to lead the way. ‘Please come inside and have some refreshment – then you can tell us what brings you to Belgooree.’
While slaking his thirst with several cups of tea, the British official told them of the volatile situation in Gulgat.
‘Unrest continues,’ he said. ‘There have been protests in the capital – they have been dealt with by the Rajah’s police but ...’
‘What sort of protests?’ asked Clarrie.
‘Anti-Mohammedan,’ said Stourton. ‘The Rajah wanted me to warn you and Rafi in case you were still in the area.’
‘Sanjay sent you to warn us?’ Sophie asked, agitated. ‘I find that hard to believe. He did nothing to keep us safe while we were still there.’
Stourton gave her a sour look. ‘If you had confided in him more – or come to me with your concerns,’ he chided, ‘then we could have protected you.’
‘Rafi tried his hardest to get Sanjay to take seriously the attacks on Muslims,’ Sophie protested, ‘but he wouldn’t listen. And you, Robert, have always tended to side with the old Rani and the palace. OnceRajah Kishan died and Rita left, we felt we had no friends at court. Rafi didn’t want to leave but we could see the trouble building.’
‘Making a run for it hasn’t helped,’ said Stourton. ‘In the eyes of the Rani and the courtiers it just confirms that your husband couldn’t be trusted.’
‘MrStourton,’ said Clarrie indignantly, ‘that is most unfair.’
‘It’s not what I think, MrsRobson,’ he said, ‘but it plays right into the Rani’s hands. She is whipping up hatred against the Mohammedans in Gulgat – she sees it as her way of reasserting her authority in a state that is now part of India.’
‘And is Sanjay just prepared to go along with that?’ Sophie said with disdain.
‘TheRajah,as he now is,’ said Stourton pointedly, ‘has sent me to warn you that feelings are running high and not to return to Gulgat any time soon.’
‘He has nothing to fear on that score,’ said Sophie. ‘We shan’t ever be returning to Gulgat.’
‘Good,’ he said, looking relieved. ‘I don’t want any harm to come to either of you; I hope you believe that?’
‘I’m sure she does,’ said Clarrie swiftly.
‘So where is Rafi?’ he asked.
The women exchanged looks.
