Page 145 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
CHAPTER 31
Sam picked up the letter that was awaiting him at the officers’ mess in Jessore; it had been forwarded from Agartala. For the past month he had been training with a new Special Duties squadron in East Bengal, including pilots newly out from Europe with experience of special ops. With regret he had left 194 Squadron, The Friendly Firm, but he relished the new challenge. What was there to lose? He cared not for danger; he had no ties and no obligations except to his fellow crewmen. By December he would be flying into Eastern Burma and dropping men and supplies in the Toungoo Hills to carry out guerrilla warfare and intelligence gathering. They just awaited the first full moon.
He had managed to function after Adela’s rejection, day by day, flying sortie by sortie. An emotional numbness cocooned him. His last morning in Imphal he had gone to the hospital to try and see Adela, apologise for taking out his anger at his mother, on her. She hadn’t been there, and the nurse on the officers’ ward had been trying to calm an agitated young major, a Scot called Maitland.
‘She can’t come every morning,’ the nurse had said. ‘There’ll be a good reason.’
Sam tried to cheer the man. Then Maitland had told him how in love with Adela he was– had known her since their days in Simla– and how he planned to propose once he was on his feet again. Sam had walked out, determined to bury all feelings for Adela once and for all.
But now a letter had come from her. He stuffed it in his pocket, unsure whether he should read it. He had found equilibrium in his life; reading what she had to say might destroy that. Half an hour later he could ignore it no longer. He went outside, lit up a cigarette and opened it, annoyed at his fumbling fingers.
Dear Sam
I know you won’t be expecting to hear from me– will probably be cross that I am writing to you after the way I let you down. But I hope this message gets to you. I have something really important to tell you, and I’d rather not write it in a letter. Is there any possibility that you could meet me in Calcutta so that I can explain in person? I know you sometimes go there in between operations. I’m not asking this for myself but for someone close to me. I’ve been having R&R at Belgooree– it’s been a little piece of heaven. But I return to Calcutta next week and will be staying with Sophie and Rafi (at the address at the bottom of this letter). You can get a message to me there.
Please come, Sam.
Yours most affectionately,
Adela
Sam didn’t know what to make of it. What could be so important? Was there a change in her circumstances and she now wanted to be with him? His initial leap of hope was quickly dashed as he reread it. She wasn’t asking on her own behalf. He felt a flash of irritation. Was she doing it on behalf of his mother? When would she stop interfering! But then that was Adela all over – stubbornly sticking up for others. Sam let out a long sigh.
That night he sent a letter back, agreeing to meet her the following week– if he could get away.
Adela answered the door to the Khans’ flat, her heart drumming painfully. Sam was looking lean and handsome in his pilot’s uniform.
‘Thank you for coming.’ She smiled nervously. ‘Please come in.’ Her words sounded ridiculously formal, but she wasn’t going to let her own emotions get in the way of what had to be said. He looked as ill at ease as she felt.
‘Sophie’s here. She’s making tea in the kitchen. Rafi will be back later. I hope you’ll stay to meet him.’
Sam didn’t answer. He followed her into a small sitting room, its ugly army furniture softened by colourful blankets and cushions. A gramophone and a pile of records took up space on the dining table. Adela indicated they should sit down next to a low carved table.
‘Adela, what is this about?’
‘Let’s have tea first. I promise to explain.’
Sam put his cap on the table and ran a hand over his cropped hair.
‘What are you doing at Jessore?’ she asked.
‘Special Duties.’ He didn’t elaborate.
‘But not with The Friendly Firm any more?’
‘No. Except for Chubs MacRae. He’s come with me.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Adela!’ He gave her a helpless look. ‘I’m finding this very hard.’
At that moment Sophie came in, carrying a tray of teacups and a teapot.
‘Sam, hello. It’s been years since we’ve met. I know it must look strange me acting as bearer, but I thought it would be easier if it was just us.’
Sam got up and took the tray from her, placing it down on the table. Then he shook her hand.
‘I bet you don’t remember me,’ Sophie said and smiled. ‘You were just a boy when I travelled on your father’s steamboat in ’23.’
