The Tea Planter’s Wife (12 page)

She was right, of course. He did draw it out and by the end she was almost crying with relief.

When her parents had rowed, her father seemed never to have heard of the word ‘sorry’. Instead he would make her mother a cup of tea and bring her a rock bun. She laughed out loud. This was so much better than a rock bun and, if they were always to make up in this fashion, it might be worth falling out more frequently.

Apart from the argument over Verity, Laurence was the soul of consideration. She was only expecting a baby, she would repeat, though in reality she was delighted by his affectionate concern. In July, after only a minor battle with him over the advisability of travelling in her condition, they both went to Kandy with Christina and another friend, but not Mr Ravasinghe. When Gwen asked Christina where Savi was, she just shrugged and said he was in London.

The procession was inspiring, though Gwen clung to Laurence for fear of being trampled by the crowd, if not by the elephants. The air smelt of incense and flowers, and she had to keep pinching herself to check she wasn’t dreaming. While Gwen felt a bit drab in her maternity smock, Christina looked spectacular in floating black chiffon. Despite the American’s continued attempts to draw Laurence aside, he appeared to show no particular interest and, hugely relieved, Gwen felt she’d been silly to suspect that he would not be able to resist the woman.

After that, despite some weeks of nausea, she seemed to float in a kind of perpetual haze. Laurence said she was blooming, and looked more beautiful than ever. And that was how she felt. Verity had stayed away and time had moved on. It was not until she was into her fifth month, on a day when Florence Shoebotham had been invited for afternoon tea, that her size was remarked on. Other people may have noticed it too, but it was Florence who pointed out that Gwen looked rather too big, and she offered to call Doctor Partridge.

When, the next day, John Partridge entered Gwen’s room, his hand outstretched, she was delighted to see him.

‘Oh, I am so glad it is you, John,’ she said, and got up. ‘I do hope there is nothing wrong with me.’

‘No need to get up,’ he said, then asked how she was feeling as she perched on the edge of her bed.

‘I am quite tired, and awfully hot.’

‘That is normal. Is there nothing else worrying you?’

She swung her legs up on to the bed. ‘My ankles do swell up a bit.’

He smoothed his moustache as he pulled up a chair. ‘Well then, you must rest more often. Though in a woman as young as yourself, I don’t think swelling ankles will be much of an issue.’

‘I get awful headaches, but then I always have.’

He twisted his mouth around as he thought, then patted her hand. ‘You
are
big. I think the best thing would be to take a look at you. Would you like a woman with you?’

‘Oh, there really isn’t anybody. Only Naveena. My cousin Frances has been back in England for some time now.’ She sighed deeply.

‘What is it, Gwen?’

She wondered what to say. Laurence would not budge from his view that Verity was the person to assist with the delivery, and with the baby. This was the one thorn in her side, and it was a big one. She had been feeling so content, but as the months rolled on and her confinement grew closer, she longed for her mother. She needed someone she felt comfortable with, and hated the thought that Laurence believed Verity should be that person. If she was honest, she didn’t exactly distrust her sister-in-law, but the thought of having nobody she loved to turn to caused her deep misgivings. What if the birth was tricky, what if she couldn’t cope? But whenever she broached the subject with Laurence, he dug in his heels and she’d begun to think she was being irrational.

She sighed and looked at the doctor. ‘It’s just that Laurence has invited his sister to keep me company and to help, you know, with everything. She’s on the coast at present, but may go back to their family place in Yorkshire for a bit. It’s let out, but they keep a small apartment.’

‘Would you rather be confined in England, Gwen?’

‘No. At least, not in Yorkshire. It’s not that. It’s just that I’m not sure about Verity being here.’ She pulled a face and her lower lip wobbled.

‘I’m sure you have no need to worry. Your sister-in-law will be a help, and perhaps some time spent with just her and your baby might assist you all to get to know each other a little better.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘She suffered, you know, more than Laurence, I think.’

‘Oh?’

‘When their parents died, she was still young, and Laurence was like a father to her. The trouble was he married so soon after their parents died and, of course, most of the year she was packed off to boarding school.’

‘Why didn’t she come to live here after she left school?’

‘She did for a while, she certainly loved it here, but all her old school friends were in England. I think Laurence thought she’d make a better life there. So when she was twenty-one, he gave her the place in Yorkshire.’

‘He does look after her.’

‘And that’s a good thing. Rumour has it she was passed over by the one person she really wanted.’

‘Who was that?’

He shook his head. ‘All families have secrets of one kind or another, don’t they? Maybe ask Laurence. But I think Verity could do with feeling useful to you. It might help her feel better about herself. Now lie back and I’ll examine your tummy.’

Once Gwen was lying flat on the bed, he opened his black leather bag and drew out something that looked like a horn. She wasn’t sure that all families had secrets, and thought about her own family, but bringing her mother and father to mind only served to bring on an awful spasm of homesickness.

‘I’ll just have a listen,’ he said.

‘Are there any other family secrets?’ she asked.

The doctor just shrugged. ‘Who knows, Gwen? Especially when it comes to human relationships.’

She stared up at the ceiling and, listening to the bumping and scraping going on overhead, thought about what he’d said about Verity. He glanced up too.

‘It’s just cleaning day. Laurence’s room today.’

‘How are you and your husband getting on, Gwen? Looking forward to being parents?’

‘Of course. Why do you ask?’

‘No reason. Are there twins in your family, or perhaps in his?’

‘My grandmother was a twin.’

‘Well, it looks to me that the reason for your advanced size is not due to anything being wrong. I think you might be carrying twins.’

Her mouth fell open as she gasped. ‘Really? Are you sure?’

‘I can’t be sure, but it does appear to be the case.’

Gwen glanced out through the window as she tried to unscramble her feelings. Two babies! That was a good thing, wasn’t it? A furry langur was sitting on the breakfast table on the verandah, with a baby clinging to its tummy. The mother langur stared at Gwen with round, brown eyes and with fluffy golden hair standing up in a halo around its dark face.

‘Is there anything particular I shouldn’t do?’ She felt herself turning red. ‘I mean with Laurence.’

He smiled. ‘Don’t worry about that. It’s good for you. We just have to keep an eye on you, that’s all, and you must take adequate rest. I can’t stress that enough.’

‘Thank you, John. I was thinking of having a picnic before the rains, down by the lake. Would that be all right?’

‘Yes, but don’t go into the water, and watch out for leeches at the edge.’

The picnic was timed to coordinate with Verity’s arrival back from the south. Two of the houseboys had carried the hamper, along with the blankets, and had brought out a chair for Gwen from the weather-beaten boathouse at the edge of the lake. As Laurence, Verity and her friend Pru Bertram made themselves comfortable on tartan rugs, they were watched by a long-tailed toque monkey in a nearby tree.

Gwen was wearing a green cotton over-dress, smocked at the top to create volume where she needed it, and was sitting with a large sun hat sheltering her face. Each morning, when she ran her hands over her breasts and belly after her bath, she gazed in wonder at her rapidly changing body, and carefully rubbed in a spoonful of nut oil infused with ginger. Now that the weeks of nausea were well and truly over, she hoped for some respite before growing even bigger.

Nick McGregor had been invited to join them, but had refused, claiming a coolie problem.

‘Is there another problem in the labour lines?’ she whispered to Laurence.

‘There are always minor disputes. Nothing to concern yourself with.’

She nodded. Since the incident over the Tamil with the injured foot, McGregor had been cool with her. He’d helped her communicate with the new gardeners, and had shown a mild interest in her cheesemaking plans, but other than that had remained distant. She’d tried including him in her ideas for the place, but he was only interested in tea.

It was a brilliant day, with the sun glittering on the lake and a light breeze to cool the skin. Gwen watched a cloud of pale
butterflies float just above the surface of the water. Spew bounded in, jumping, splashing and enjoying being a nuisance. Bobbins sat at the edge with her head resting on her paws. She was not as adventurous as her brother, added to which she was heavily pregnant. Gwen had been watching her with interest, and felt a great deal of sympathy for the animal’s huge distended abdomen.

‘How funny,’ Gwen said. She leant back to feel a little of the sun on her face. ‘Bobbins is the observer and Spew the doer. A bit like me and Fran. I do wish she were here, Laurence.’

‘We’ve been over that, sweetheart.’

‘I promise I’ll do everything I can to help,’ Verity said. ‘That’s why I haven’t gone back to England.’

‘I’m sure Gwen is grateful.’

Verity gave her a wide smile. ‘Darling, do let’s open the hamper now.’

Laurence undid the catches, pulled out two bottles of champagne, several glasses, which he handed round, and then three plates of sandwiches.

‘Mmm,’ he said, taking the cover off one of the plates and sniffing. ‘These look like salmon and cucumber.’

‘What about the rest?’ Gwen asked, feeling ravenous.

‘Why don’t you tell us what’s in the other two, Pru?’ Laurence said.

Pru was quiet and unassuming, a typically pale-skinned Englishwoman who under the Ceylon sunshine seemed to turn bright pink, and though a little older, she had been a loyal friend to Verity.

‘Certainly.’ She took the two plates. ‘Egg and lettuce in these, and something I don’t recognize in these … Oh yes, of course, it’s brinjal.’

‘Brinjal in a sandwich?’ Gwen said, remembering her lunch at Christina’s.

Verity nodded. ‘Absolutely! We always have one foreign dish on our picnics, don’t we, Laurence? It’s a family tradition. Don’t you have family traditions in your own family?’

Laurence straightened his hat as he glanced at his sister. ‘We are Gwen’s family now, Verity.’

Verity coloured. ‘Of course. I didn’t mean …’

He uncorked the champagne, filled their glasses, then stood and held up his glass. ‘To my wonderful wife.’

‘Hear, hear!’ Pru said.

When they had eaten their fill, Verity, who had polished off more than her share of the champagne, got up. ‘Well, as you know, Laurence, a walk round part of the lake is what follows. Are you coming?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to manage that,’ Gwen said, reaching out a hand to Laurence.

‘But you’ll come, won’t you, Laurence? You always do. Gwen will be fine with Pru.’

‘Nevertheless, I shall stay with Gwen.’

Gwen shot him a thank you smile and he squeezed her hand.

‘Keep an eye open for water buffalo,’ he said as Verity started to move off, looking a little miffed.

At that moment Spew came rushing out of the lake as he chased away a group of herons, then raced round Verity, showering her with water. Gwen looked round for Bobbins, who, it seemed, had disappeared.

‘Dratted dog!’ Verity said, brushing off her damp dress. As usual she’d chosen the wrong colour, Gwen thought. Orange didn’t suit a sallow complexion. And a yellow sun, reflecting its colour on to her face, made her look quite acid.

‘I’ll accompany you, Verity,’ Pru said, and started to make a move.

‘No. I’ll take Spew for a run. You’re not fit enough and you’ll get too hot. Come on, Spew.’

Pru looked deflated and settled down again. ‘No, of course, you’re right. I’m not as energetic as you.’

Gwen called out to Laurence, who had taken a few steps towards the lake. ‘Do you think I might just dip my toes in?’

Laurence twisted round. ‘I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t want to mollycoddle you.’

‘Do you want to come, Pru?’ Gwen said as she took off her shoes.

When Pru shook her head Gwen walked down to the bank with Laurence, then sat and rolled down her stockings with one hand while holding on to her sun hat with the other. He helped her up and they wandered a little further along. The water was gently lapping the earthy edge and she wriggled her toes in the cool of it.

‘This is so lovely, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘It’s you that makes it lovely.’

‘Oh, Laurence, I am so happy. I hope it never ends.’

‘There’s absolutely no reason why it should,’ he said, and kissed her.

She watched a bird hop on to a rock nearby. ‘Do look at that robin,’ she said.

‘It’s a Kashmir flycatcher actually. Wonder what’s brought it here. You usually see them on the golf course at Nuwara Eliya. It’s the most beautiful place, sits between the town and the hills.’

‘You know a lot about birds.’

‘Birds and tea.’

She laughed. ‘You must tell me what they all are, so that I can teach our baby.’

‘Our babies, you mean!’

As he wrapped his arms round her, she glanced up at him. His eyes were sparkling and he looked so proud and happy she felt her heart would burst.

But then, as he held both her hands and searched her face, he looked suddenly serious. ‘Gwen, if I could only tell you how much you’ve changed my life.’

She drew back. ‘For the better I hope.’

He took a deep breath and she loved the way his whole face seemed to be smiling.

‘More than you’ll ever know,’ he said.

A gust of wind blew her hair into her eyes. He tucked a ringlet behind her ear. ‘After Caroline, I felt my life was over, but you’ve given me hope.’

As the wind got up a little more, she took off her hat, then leaning back against the warmth of his chest, turned to look at the lake again. He wasn’t always able to say what he clearly felt, but as he stroked her hair, she understood how much he loved her. He dipped his head and twisted her round. She closed her eyes against the intense glare of a yellow sun reflecting off the waves, then she felt his lips on her neck just behind her ears. A shiver ran through her. If only I could fix this moment in my mind for ever, she thought.

They walked further on for a while before turning back, but the peace was disturbed by frenzied barking. Gwen glanced across to see Spew scratching at the door of the boathouse.

‘I’ll bet Bobbins has got in there to deliver her puppies,’ Laurence said. He glanced back as the sound of an oar splashing the water drew his attention. ‘I don’t believe it. What is he doing here?’

‘It seems like Verity is with him. And Christina.’

He muttered under his breath, but went to lend an elbow to help Verity and then Christina out of the outrigger canoe. While Verity shook herself down, Christina grinned.

‘Hello, darling,’ she said, before putting both palms on the sides of Laurence’s head and kissing his cheeks. She took a step away, allowing her palm to trail down Laurence’s bare arm, her fingers lightly tickling him as she did.

As Laurence reddened, Gwen bristled at this act of overt intimacy, but forced herself to smile. ‘How nice to see you, Christina.’

‘My, you do look well, I must remember to get myself pregnant sometime.’ She winked at Laurence.

The nerve of the woman, Gwen thought. How dare she flirt with my husband in front of me. She moved closer to Laurence and pushed the hair off his forehead in a proprietary way.

‘I came across them on my walk,’ Verity said. ‘He was sketching her with one of the islands as a backdrop. Their canoe was tied up nearby, so he offered me a lift. I can’t resist a ride in a canoe with a handsome man.’

Savi Ravasinghe seemed untroubled as he climbed out of the canoe, but Laurence looked tense.

‘My apologies for intruding,’ Savi said.

‘Not at all.’ Gwen held out her hand. ‘But I’m afraid we’re just wrapping up here.’

He smiled as he took her hand. ‘You look absolutely blooming, Mrs Hooper, if I may say so.’

‘Thank you. I do feel rather wonderful. It’s lovely to see you again. How was your trip to London? I sometimes think it’s –’

‘It’s time we went in,’ Laurence said, interrupting and nodding curtly at Savi before turning his back on him and holding out a hand to Christina. ‘Would
you
like to come up to the house?’

Gwen frowned.

‘Thank you, Laurence. I am, of course, deeply tempted,’ she said, and blew him a kiss, ‘but I think on this occasion I’ll go back with Savi.’

Laurence didn’t speak.

‘Actually, I have something for Mrs Hooper,’ Savi said. He reached into a brown leather sketching satchel and pulled out a page of heavy cartridge paper protected by tissue paper. ‘I’ve been carrying this around for a while now. It’s just a little watercolour.’

Gwen held out her hand to receive it and removed the tissue. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful.’

‘I painted it from that quick sketch I made of you at Christina’s house.’

Laurence’s face darkened. He didn’t speak, simply clasped hold of Gwen’s arm and began striding up the bank towards the steps where Pru stood watching. As they passed her and carried on up, Gwen glanced back at the others, feeling mortified. A little further up she exploded.

‘That was uncalled for. It was a gift. Why were you so rude? You could at least be civil to the man!’

Laurence folded his arms. ‘I will not have him here.’

‘What’s wrong with you? I like Savi, and all he did was make a five-minute sketch of me.’

Laurence was standing still, though she could almost feel him shaking.

‘I don’t want you to see him again.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘What about you and Christina?’ she said, her voice rising dangerously.

‘What about it?’

‘You still find her attractive. I didn’t notice you pushing her hand away. Don’t think I can’t see how she bewitches you.’

He snorted. ‘We were talking about Mr Ravasinghe, not Christina.’

‘It’s because of his colour, isn’t it?’

‘No. You’re being ridiculous. And that’s quite enough. Now come on.’

‘I’ll decide what is enough, thank you very much, and I’ll also decide who I choose to befriend.’

He unfolded his arms and held out a hand. ‘Don’t shout, Gwen. Do you want Pru to hear?’

‘I don’t give a damn if she does. Though if you bothered to look back you’d see she’s already looking very uncomfortable.’ Her lip trembled, and she jutted out her chin. ‘And also if you cared to look you’d see your sainted sister has got back in the boat with Mr Ravasinghe, as well as Christina, and Mr Ravasinghe is checking their ankles for leeches. There’s obviously something about
him
that women like!’

And no longer trying to control her anger, she stormed off as best as her size allowed.

She smarted for days but they didn’t speak of the episode again, at least not then; Gwen, because she didn’t want to upset herself – her heart had raced abominably after their argument – and Laurence because he was pig-headed. The silences between them grew longer and her eyes stung with unshed tears. Neither apologized and Laurence continued to brood. She hadn’t really meant to hurt him so badly with her parting shot, but it was clear she had, and relations between them suffered, which was exactly the
opposite of what Gwen really wanted. It was bad enough that Verity was there again, without now also feeling cut off from Laurence. She longed to touch the cleft in his chin and make him smile again but was too stubborn to do it.

One gloomy evening, with the arrival of the migrating Himalayan blue and yellow pitta bird, the purple sky of the autumn monsoon took over their lives. Everything seemed to be damp. Drawers wouldn’t open, and if they did you couldn’t close them. Doors suddenly didn’t fit. The ground was muddy, insects were multiplying, and on the few occasions that Gwen ventured into the garden, the air was white.

The rain dragged on into December, but once it had ended, Gwen was too heavily pregnant to stray far from the house. Doctor Partridge visited again, and still diagnosed that twins were likely, but also said he couldn’t be certain.

After ten weeks in the boot room, the puppies, five of them, had been allowed to scamper about the rest of the house. Gwen, unable to see her feet for the size of her bump, spent her life frightened she’d step on them. Either that or one of the bundles of fur would trip her up. But when Laurence suggested they might live in an outhouse, she shook her head. Homes had been found for four of them, and they’d be going soon, but her special favourite, the runt of the litter, was still unwanted.

One morning she answered a phone call from Christina.

‘Can you tell Laurence that he left some papers here last time he was over,’ the woman said in a breezy voice.

‘Where?’

‘At my place, of course.’

‘Very well. Was there anything else?’

‘Get him to call me, will you, or he could just drop by and pick them up.’

Later, when Gwen mentioned that Christina had phoned, Laurence looked surprised.