Page 175 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
‘Why don’t we fool them into thinking we’re someone else?’
‘Meaning?’ Clarrie asked.
‘Dress up.’
‘As who?’
Libby said, ‘We could dress Sophie as a man.’
Despite the tenseness of the situation, Sophie giggled with amusement. ‘What sort of man?’
‘In uniform or something. Didn’t Adela leave a trunkful of costumes here from when she finished with ENSA?’
‘Yes,’ said Clarrie, ‘but I think they’re mostly dresses and feather boas.’
‘Did Sam leave any clothes?’
‘Well, yes ...’
‘Let’s have a look,’ Libby said, swinging out of bed. ‘None of us can sleep so we might as well be doing something useful.’
They trooped into Harry’s room, where Adela and Sam had left possessions they hadn’t needed for Newcastle. The three women spent the next hour rifling through Adela’s trunk and Harry’s wardrobe, holding up clothes and getting Sophie to try them on. Eventually they settled on a pair of Harry’s trousers and a bush shirt and jacket of Sam’s. Libby found Adela’s military cap that fitted Sophie.
‘We’ll have to cut your hair even shorter,’ said Clarrie, touching Sophie’s bobbed hair fondly.
‘And dye it,’ said Libby. She pulled out a box of stage make-up and rummaged through it. ‘And how about this?’ She held up a false moustache. ‘We have to make you look more manly. And what about an eyepatch?’
Sophie laughed. ‘I’ll look like a pantomime villain.’
‘Okay.’ Libby grimaced. ‘I’ll wear the eyepatch.’
‘Who are you going to be?’ Sophie asked.
‘A tea planter,’ said Libby. ‘I’ll put my hair up in a topee and plump up my stomach with a cushion to hide these.’ She pointed at her breasts.
Clarrie disappeared for a minute and returned holding up a jacket of Wesley’s. ‘This might fit.’
‘Don’t you mind?’ asked Libby. ‘I don’t want to take it if it’s special.’
‘It’s just a jacket,’ said Clarrie brusquely. ‘And if it helps disguise you and keep you safe then that’s the best use possible.’
After dressing Libby, Clarrie scrutinised them both. ‘I have another idea,’ she said. ‘We’ll bandage you both up and pretend you’re being rushed to hospital after some riding accident.’
By the time Clarrie had finished with them, Sophie had one eye covered, and Libby had her jaw bandaged and an arm in a sling across her chest.
Shortly before dawn, Libby fell into an exhausted sleep. She was roused by Clarrie – it seemed just minutes later – but the air was full of birdsong and day was breaking.
‘It’s time to go,’ she said softly. ‘There’schota hazrion the veranda, then we’ll get you dressed up.’
Libby looked at her sleepily. ‘Have the police come?’
Clarrie shook her head. ‘Daleep will drive you to Gowhatty in my car and Banu will go with him, well armed.’
They spent the final hour at Belgooree in an atmosphere of tension as they forced down breakfast and got into their disguises. Clarrie gave them the contact details of friends in Gowhatty they could stay with while they secured onward travel to Calcutta.
‘I have old army friends of Rafi’s who will put us up once we get to Calcutta,’ said Sophie.
‘Send me word when you are safely there,’ Clarrie said.
