Page 47 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
Ghulam gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘You sound just like Rafi– he was always telling me to be more patient.’
‘I’m not telling you to do anything,’ said Adela, ‘but I think you’re being unfair to brand all us British as the same. And Indians for that matter. I know Indian rajas who don’t in the least want what you want.’
‘Indian princes hardly represent the masses of India,’ protested Ghulam. ‘It’s true that we Indians have differing views on how India should be run after the Britishers leave– I want a socialist state without religious interference; my devout brother Amir has his heart set on a homeland for Moslems—’
‘I want democracy and women’s rights,’ Fatima added eagerly.
‘But we areallagreed on one thing,’ said Ghulam. ‘You Britishers must hand over power and soon.’
Adela was in awe of the passion that lit his heavy features and made him handsome, his flashing green eyes holding her gaze.
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Adela, ‘how many of us British think the same as you. The argument is just about when we hand over, not if.’
Her empathy seemed to disarm him; he relaxed back.
‘And what would you do, Miss Robson, in a free India?’
‘Become a film star,’ she said at once.
‘Adela is a wonderful singer,’ said Fatima.
‘And has the looks for the silver screen too.’ He gave a flash of a smile. ‘I promise to watch your films when we haveswaraj.’
Adela flushed at the compliment. ‘And I promise to give you tickets to my premieres,’ she sparked back.
She left shortly afterwards; they told her nothing of Ghulam’s plans, and neither did she ask. ‘You must tell no one of this,’ Fatima warned, ‘not even MrsHogg. And don’t ask me about Ghulam when we meet. It’s safer for you if you know nothing of his whereabouts.’
Adela wanted to rush home and blurt out her encounter, but promised she wouldn’t.
It was a strain in the next few days to keep her secret to herself and not discuss it with either Fluffy or Boz. The situation was made worse by an impromptu visit from Inspector Pollock. Adela returned to find the tall bald police officer taking tea at Briar Rose Cottage. Fluffy said with a warning look, ‘The inspector has kindly come to make sure we are all right.’
‘That’s kind, but why shouldn’t we be?’ She shook his hand.
‘You were seen at the Freedom Pledge demonstration,’ said Pollock, ‘and we were worried you might have been caught up in the fracas.’
‘I’ve told him we were perfectly fine,’ Fluffy interjected.
‘Perfectly.’ Adela smiled. ‘We just viewed it from afar.’
‘So why were you there, Miss Robson?’ he persisted. ‘Do you take an interest in politics?’
‘Not especially.’
‘It was my idea to go,’ Fluffy said, ‘not Adela’s at all. As you know, I’ve always taken an interest in current affairs.’
Adela sat down, trying not to let her alarm show, and changed the subject.
‘I hope you’re going to come and see our production ofThe Arabian Nights, Inspector Pollock. It’s going to start the season with a bang.’
‘I’m not really a theatregoer, Miss Robson, but my wife is. I’ll make sure she knows about it.’
They talked about trivial matters: the change in manager at the Simla Bank, a new dinner menu at the Cecil and an art exhibition at the town hall. As he stood up to leave, he turned to Adela and asked, ‘Does the name Ghulam Khan mean anything to you?’
Her heart stopped. She met his assessing grey eyes with a puzzled frown.
‘No, should it do?’
‘You went to hear him speak at the demonstration.’
