Page 58 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
Jay ended up paying the bill for them all.
As he dropped her and Fluffy off at the bungalow, promising to send a car for them in the morning, Adela wondered if she was doing the right thing. Tired as she was, she had half a mind to see if the after-show party at The Chalet was still going on. She felt a pang of regret that she had given in so easily to Jay’s insistence on dinner instead of celebrating with her theatre friends. Still, she couldn’t wait to get away into the hills for a few days. And Jay was so very generous and kind; tonight he had given her a beautiful cashmere shawl as they had left the hotel.
‘What’s wrong?’ Fluffy came into her bedroom to say goodnight. ‘You didn’t seem yourself tonight. Is it this Nina Davidge that worries you?’
Adela nodded. ‘I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m still afraid of her.’
‘Well, the worst thing you could do would be to let it show,’ said Fluffy robustly. ‘You’re quite capable of standing up for yourself, my dear. And anyway, what possible harm could she do you?’
Adela slept badly, clock-watching through the night, impatient for the dawn. She was up and dressed with a suitcase packed long before breakfast was served.
Sam spent the morning patching up the roof of StThomas’ Church in the Lower Bazaar. ‘The native church’ as the British in Simla dubbed it. He was friendly with the welcoming priest, who did his best for his flock with a fraction of the resources of the prestigious and well-heeled Christ Church, which looked down on StThomas’ from the Ridge.
Sam was glad of the physical labour, hammering at the corrugated iron sheeting with vigour, sleeves rolled up and shirt sticking to his back from exertion in the hot May sun. With each blow he tried to erase the memory of the previous evening. Adela had looked captivating on stage, playing a variety of parts, dancing and singing in the chorus and then coming on for the final tableau in a brilliant yellow sari, like some exotic butterfly next to the handsome prince. From the loud whispers around him, he soon discovered that it was Prince Sanjay of Gulgat and that his name and Adela’s were being linked by the town’s gossips.
He’d slipped away from Sundar and Fatima at the end of the performance and gone for a cigarette by the bandstand, hoping to catch Adela as she came out of the theatre. But there’d been a rather imperious young woman in a fashionable summer coat and pillbox hat demanding to see her. Sam had recognised Adela’s friend Deborah, who was trying to put her off. He’d held back in the shadows, but had been near enough to overhear the exchange.
‘I’m afraid she’s already left– a rickshaw picked her up on the Mall.’
‘I don’t believe you– she couldn’t have left that quickly.She’s ducking me, isn’t she?’ the tall girl had demanded.
‘What if she is, Nina? The way you treated her at StNinian’s, I’m not surprised.’
Nina had looked affronted. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Oh, I think you do. You bullied her. Even hearing your name still upsets her. So I’d rather you just left her alone.’
‘I came to congratulate her, but I see I’m wasting my time. It’s not my fault if she holds a silly grudge. I’m the one who was wronged by her– she ruined my performance of Queen Bess at the house plays. You wouldn’t be so eager to be her friend if you knew what I knew.’
‘Well, just stay away from her, why don’t you?’
It dawned on Sam that this was the same Nina that had made eyes at him when he visited StNinian’s and had bullied Adela all those years ago. Why was she seeking her out now if not to make trouble for her? Sam had stepped forward, smiling.
‘Good evening, Deborah! You were wonderful in the play. Congratulations.’
The young women had spun around. ‘Hello, Sam, thank you. I didn’t know you’d come to see it.’
‘Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’
‘Adela will be sorry to have missed you.’
‘She’s off to the after-show party no doubt.’
Deborah had hesitated, then thrown a defiant look at Nina. ‘No, actually, she’s gone to dine at Wildflower Hall. With Prince Sanjay.’
Nina had given a disapproving tut. ‘Well, that’s the difference between us and the likes of Adela Robson, isn’t it?’
‘Frankly,’ Deborah had replied, ‘I’d jump at the chance of dinner with an Indian prince.’
Sam had hidden his frustration. ‘Well, enjoy your evening, ladies.’
Abruptly Nina had said, ‘I thought I knew your face. You’re Jackman the film-maker, aren’t you?’
Sam had given a wry laugh. ‘Not any more. I’m a missionary now.’
‘Oh, really.’ Nina had looked disappointed. ‘Well, that sounds very worthy.’
Sam had left swiftly and rejoined his friends for tea and chat at Fatima’s flat. He had listened to them discuss Sanjay’s keen interest in Adela.
