Page 44 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
‘They’re after that man,’ gasped Fluffy.
‘We need to get out of here,’ Adela cried over the shouting and confusion.
But they were being carried by the tide of people in the opposite direction to the steps, caught in the crush. Adela seized Fluffy’s arm and held on for all she was worth. There was nothing to be done but let themselves be carried along. Tugged and jostled, Fluffy cried out, ‘My shoe– it’s come off!’
‘Don’t stop, Auntie,’ Adela screamed, heart banging with fear. ‘Hold on tight.’
Suddenly a man wrapped in a cloak grabbed Fluffy’s other arm and pulled.
‘Let go of her!’ Adela shouted.
‘This way, memsa’b,’ he urged. ‘In here.’
‘Noor?’ Fluffy gasped as the cloak fell back from her bearer’s face. ‘How ...?’
He didn’t answer, but hurried them into an alleyway and then through a low door. All at once they were out of the mayhem, standing in the back kitchen of a food stall, a large vat of steaming dal cooking on an open fire. The skinny boy who was tending it, gaped at them in astonishment. Noor said something to him that Adela didn’t understand, except for the word ‘chai’; the boy nodded and disappeared behind a curtain. Outside they could hear shouting and police whistles. Fluffy let out a gasp of relief.
‘Please sit, memsa’bs.’ Noor indicated a couple of low stools. ‘We will wait for men to go.’
The boy reappeared with a metal tray of small glasses filled with tea and handed them round. Adela sipped gratefully at the sweet, milkychai, the pounding of her heart slowing. Fluffy was grey-faced, her hat askew and a shoe gone; her stockinged foot filthy.
She trembled. ‘Noor, how did you come to be there?’
‘I followed you, memsa’b.’ Noor’s lean face smiled. ‘In case there was trouble.’
Fluffy’s eyes welled with tears. ‘Thank you. You are my guardian angel.’
‘Do you know who that last speaker was?’ Adela asked.
Noor shook his head. ‘Someone from the city, not local.’
‘What was he saying?’
‘Something about the Praja Mandal,’ Noor said, glancing round as if fearing he might be overheard, ‘and bad things about the hill rajas.’
‘The police knew him,’ said Fluffy. ‘That’s what seemed to set them off.’
‘Yes,’ Adela murmured, thinking of the passionate speaker so full of energy and rage. ‘I wonder if he got away.’ Silently she hoped he had evaded a beating from the police sticks.
They waited half an hour and then Noor summoned a rickshaw. Rain had set in again. The bazaar was strangely deserted and quiet, the Congress flags torn down and trampled in the mud. The women sat in silence as they were pulled back up the slope to the Ridge and Jakko Hill. Noor ordered hot water for baths and more tea with cake.
‘I’m so grateful, Noor,’ said Fluffy, ‘and feel terrible for putting you and Adela at risk.’
Noor shook his head. Adela felt full of bravado now they were safely home. ‘I’m glad I went– it was a great piece of theatre.’
Fluffy gave an impatient tut. ‘It’s not play-acting for the Indians,’ she said. ‘For some people the cause ofswarajis a matter of life or death.’
The next day Adela scanned the newspaper for any mention of the meeting or the scuffles with the police, but there was none. She talked it over with Boz, who was cross that she had gone.
‘Lassie, I warned you to stay away. I hope no one saw you.’
‘They weren’t interested in me,’ she retorted. ‘Who do you think the man in the beret was?’
‘Some hothead by the sounds of it. There’s real trouble brewing in the Hill States– Dharmi in particular– and the government is trying to keep a lid on it.’
‘But surely it’s up to the hill chiefs whether they decide to hand over more power to the– what do you call them?– Praja Mandal.’
Boz sighed. ‘Aye, you’re right, and many of us are sympathetic to their aims, but we don’t want unrest spreading or things falling into the hands of extremists like the communists.’
