I could hardly deny that, but I said, ‘It still wasn’t a crime, though.’
‘But, as I’m sure you’re well aware, morality does not always coincide with the strict letter of the law.’ This time, I flushed. He continued, ‘But there’s a gap, here – how did we get from a week’s holiday in London to a permanent position at Wenlock Court?’
‘That was because while I was in London I decided to become an ethnologist like my grandmother Fanny – and to start off by making a study of the tribal rituals of the English upper class.’
‘What!’
‘I thought it would be interesting – and it has been.’ Looking him straight in the eye I said, ‘Even more interesting than I expected. Anyway,’ I added, ‘Wick’s pretty boring in winter.’
And he exploded for a second time. ‘How totally irresponsible of you!’
I wasn’t having that. ‘No,’ I shouted back, ‘It was not! How could it be? A person can only be irresponsible it there’s someone for them to be responsible to – and there isn’t, not for me. I knew no-one cared whether I went back or stayed – so I decided I might as well do what I pleased. And I did send my landlady at Wick a couple of postcards, telling her I wouldn’t be returning after all.’
‘And I wonder where those were posted from?’ How on earth had he guessed that? ‘Somewhere well clear of London and Shropshire, I suspect – so your grandfather’s lawyers would not be able to track you down.’ He said abruptly, ‘Since they will have assumed you to be penniless they must have been extremely concerned about your well-being. Did you not think of them?’
‘Oh yes,’ I replied bitterly, ‘I thought of them alright – I never stopped thinking of them! They’re why I had to be Eve Gunn – speaking with a Scots accent and sticking hairpins in my head and putting up with long, flapping skirts so that people would think I was older than I was – that was all because of the Mr Hendersons. Because Mr Henderson always talked as if being my curator gave him total power over me, and so I thought that if he found me he had the right to drag me back and force me to go to that rotten old boarding school. But he didn’t! Only I didn’t know that – not until I came here and read this book about Scots law in your father’s reading room. It wasn’t until then I found out curators were only curators of the money, and had no power over a girl once she was twelve – and I always was.’
‘So it was at that point, when you read this information, that you realised your masquerade was no longer necessary?’
‘Yes.’ Oh, you fool, Eve!
He pounced at once. ‘So why, then, did you persist in it?’
‘Well, I—’ I floundered a moment then said with a shrug, ‘There was no need to tell you, was there?’
‘No need!’
I said defensively, ‘And I was going to – after that business about the tongue.’
‘You were?’ Spoken in a tone of total disbelief.
‘I was – I dropped my Scots accent, only you didn’t notice, and then—’ I broke off.
But he completed the sentence for me, ‘And then I said I would inform you about certain information which had so far escaped your knowledge – to which you replied, if I remember correctly, “Thank ye, ma lord – I’m verra grateful”.’ He glared ferociously at me.
Sometimes you’re left with only one option – the truth. ‘I thought you might not tell me if you knew I wasn’t Eve Gunn.’
‘I rather think there were lots of things you suspected I wouldn’t do or say if I knew you were the granddaughter of General Sir William Courtney – weren’t there?’
I wriggled. ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’
‘Oh, but I would.’
‘I don’t see who my grandfather was makes the slightest difference – I think class distinctions are ridiculous – all men and women are equal.’
‘Equally capable of behaving with stupidity, yes.’
‘I haven’t been behaving stupidly.’
‘Everybody behaves stupidly at seventeen – that’s why Henderson implied what he did about curators, that’s why your grandfather drew up his will the way he did – he wanted to ensure that in the event of your father’s premature death you would be protected—’
I was furious, ‘I don’t need protecting, I can look after myself – Apa taught me how to. And Apa always said he wanted me to think for myself, and to make my own choices – just like he did!’
And finally Lord Rothbury was silenced. But not for long. Standing up to his full height he towered over me and said, ‘Miss Evelyn Perverti—’
‘Parvarti, it means mountain-born – like the goddess.’
‘—Gunn Courtney, I am extremely annoyed with you – so annoyed that if I stay here I shall probably say something that you will find very distressing, and that I will later regret having said. So I am now going out for a ride. You will stay up here. I shall speak to you later when I’ve calmed down.’
He turned sharply on his heel and strode over to the door. I called after him, ‘How long will that take?’
‘A long time, Miss Evelyn Courtney. A very long time.’ He reached for the handle.
As he was going out I told him quickly, ‘I really am always called Eve.’
He turned to look at me for a moment, ‘I bet you are – with good reason.’
The door almost slammed behind him.
Chapter Forty Six
As soon as he’d gone my own anger died away, to leave me cold and shaking. I couldn’t stem the flow of my thoughts any longer now – so over and over again I seemed to hear his voice saying: ‘Your grandfather was a man whom I held in the highest esteem… a fellow officer whom I respected, admired – and was even privileged to call my friend.’
His friend – my grandfather. My grandfather, who had returned Apa’s letters unopened, forbidden him ever to write again – and told him he was no longer his son.
My grandfather – Lord Rothbury’s friend.
Finally I managed to thrust those words away – only to hear instead Major Falconer telling my Apa at Bhim Tal: ‘I don’t shake hands with cowards.’
Major Falconer had clearly believed that what he’d said was true, and my grandfather had believed the same – suppose Lord Rothbury believed it too? Lord Rothbury, who’d been at the Shop, like my grandfather, like Major Falconer – like Apa himself. Lord Rothbury, who’d had no scruples himself about fighting the Boers in South Africa – suppose, just suppose – he thought that about my Apa?
It seemed an eternity before I heard his footsteps on the stair. At the sound of them I sprang up and turned to face the door, tense as a cornered wild cat.
As soon as he came in I saw by his expression that he wasn’t still angry with me – but I scarcely cared about that any more. Though he was almost smiling as he said to me, ‘So, whatever am I going to do with you now, Miss Evelyn Parvati Gunn Courtney – granddaughter of my very good friend, General Sir William Courtney?’
I plunged straight in. ‘And the daughter of Evelyn Courtney.’
My eyes never left his face. He raised his both his eyebrows and said, almost lightly, ‘Yes, obviously you are – since your grandfather only had the one son.’
I exclaimed, ‘My grandfather thought Apa was wrong to leave the army!’
‘Yes, obviously he would have done.’
‘Apa didn’t know there was going to be that battle!’
He replied quietly, ‘But the purpose of armies is to fight battles.’
I challenged, ‘So what do you think?’
He parried. ‘What do I think about what?’
‘About my Apa leaving the army.’ My whole body was braced, waiting.
He took out his silver cigarette case, selected a cigarette, tapped it on the lid and then told me, ‘I think his timing was – unfortunate.’
‘He thought that, too.’
‘Did he?’
‘Yes. But some people thought,’ I took a deep breath, ‘They thought more than that – they thought he wasn’t brave. Th
ey were wrong – my Apa was brave – the bravest person I know.’
My eyes never left his face – waiting – waiting while he found his lighter, lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply – and then said, ‘My own father, who was, as you may know, a priest, would have said that a man who dares to take an unpopular stance because of his beliefs is displaying courage, rather than cowardice.’
My knees gave way beneath me and I almost collapsed down on to the chair behind me. My whole body was shaking with relief.
He said quietly, ‘You were very fond of your father, weren’t you Eve?’
I whispered, ‘Apa was – was everything. When he died I couldn’t believe it – I, I—’ And now I couldn’t go on.
Lord Rothbury’s voice was very gentle as he told me, ‘I was older than you when my own father died – but, yes – I felt exactly the same.’
He understood. He understood.
He walked across to the armchair opposite and sat there, smoking – giving me time to collect myself. When his cigarette was finished he stubbed it firmly out before saying briskly, ‘Eve, I really will have to decide what to do about you now – having at last discovered your true identity,’
I said, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I really was as soon as you came back from Ireland – it was wrong of me. Only,’ I admitted, ‘Playing Eve Gunn was such fun that I didn’t want it to stop.’
He gave a slight shake of his head. ‘I know you enjoy playing games – but you really mustn’t let them get out of hand.’
I explained, ‘But the games that get out of hand are often the most fun.’
He laughed. ‘I’m afraid you’re right – that’s been my experience, too. But then, afterwards—’ I finished for him, ‘You do feel a bit ashamed of yourself, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
We smiled to each other in a shared moment of understanding before I said again, ‘I’m sorry I deceived you.’
He shook his head in mock reproof. ‘You were rather naughty you know, Eve – I should really put you over my knee and spank you again, but—’
I broke in, ‘That’s why I didn’t go back to Wick! Jeannie said your chasing me and spanking me was all round the town – and everybody was laughing at me—’
‘Oh dear. So it was my game that went too far that time, eh?’
‘I had slung a herring at you, though.’
‘Quite. The problem is, Eve, we’re two of a kind, you and I. We don’t always know when to stop. Anyway, we have stopped now – albeit only in the nick of time,’ a single eyebrow briefly raised itself to mark that comment, ‘So we’ve got to put the past behind us, and think about the future instead. Your future. Because obviously you’re not going back into service now.’
‘I’m not going back to school, either.’
‘I would point out on that score that Henderson does control your money.’
‘Only what came from my grandfather. But Apa left me some money, too – only I didn’t know until I told him about the second discovery I’d made in the reading room, finishing triumphantly, and it’ll come to at least £350!’
He frowned. ‘That’s not very much.’
‘Not very much! I can live on that for years! And I can still get jobs as well — though not in a laundry, that really was boring. But I’ll think of something.’
He said firmly, ‘I’ve been doing some thinking about your future, myself. And I’ve decided that the most important point of all is to ensure that from now on you do have someone to be responsible to – someone, moreover, who genuinely has your interests at heart.’ He was stubbing out his cigarette as he said that, so he couldn’t see my pleasure – which instantly vanished as he went on, ‘But your continued presence here this weekend does pose a problem.’
‘Oh,’ I was immediately wary, ‘I don’t see why – you did say I could stay.’
‘I said Eve Gunn could stay, not Miss Evelyn Courtney. I’m not at all sure that an unchaperoned young lady should stay here alone with me.’
I announced firmly, ‘I’m not a young lady.’
‘No, quite. That was just the point I was about to make. At seventeen you still count as a schoolroom miss – as you yourself said earlier, you shouldn’t even have your hair up or your skirts down yet.’
‘Did I say that?’
‘I seem to remember your expressing some irritation at the encumbrance ot ankle-flapping petticoats and head-stabbing hairpins. Now, in view of your tender age I think it might be acceptable for you to stay here on your own – just the once.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But there is a price to be paid, Eve.’ And I’d already guessed it before he continued, ‘Shortened skirts and lengthened hair. Agreed?’ I agreed – I didn’t have much choice, did I? He smiled approvingly before telling me, ‘I’ve already informed my staff of your true identity, so dinner will take the form of supper tonight – there’s no need for you to dress.’
I said eagerly, ‘So I may eat with you?’
‘Of course – you are my guest, Miss Courtney. And over our meal you must tell me all about India. Now,’ he rose to his feet, ‘I have to get changed, and then there’s a telephone call I must make first, so—’
I rushed down to my own bedroom – where I found Elsie already sitting by the window. ‘Nearly finished, Miss Courtney.’ Yes, she was busy hemming my newly shortened Sunday skirt. She smiled, ‘And his lordship said to find you a ribbon for your plait – I’ve ironed a nice green velvet one…’
It was a most attractive ribbon – but I wasn’t too happy about my loss of adult status. As I walked down the sweeping curve of the main staircase with my black-stockinged-ankles exposed and my long plait falling heavily down my back I felt – demoted. Especially as Lord Rothbury was waiting for me in the hall looking extremely smart in black and white. True, he was wearing a dinner jacket instead of full dress rig, but – yes, I did feel like a mere schoolroom miss as he offered me his immaculate black-suited arm.
Still, I enjoyed processing to the dining room, where the small oval table in the bay window was laid for us. Shining silver on glossy white damask tablecloth, sparkling glassware – oh, go on, Eve, just this once enjoy being part of the tribal ritual. And just hope you can remember all Apa’s rules about formal table manners, too – thank goodness for Mrs Benson and Naini Tal!
Naini Tal being one subject of our conversation – though it took us a while to reach it, since we had to travel across the Girthi Gorges first – he having opened the conversation with, ‘Now, Eve, you must tell me exactly where this Milam birthplace of yours is situated…’
He was an excellent listener – exclaiming in all the right places. ‘Eleven thousand four hundred feet above sea level – then you truly were mountain born!’ ‘Good Lord – am I to understand that you walked a hundred and four miles – just to get there?’
‘That’s quite normal in the Himalaya – the Bhotias walk all the way into Tibet.’
And I was soon telling him of how we’d walked from Milam up to Dung – ‘You’re joking, Eve!’
‘I’m not – besides, it was a very suitable name by the time our goats had got settled in! And while we were there the Pandit taught me how to work out our height above sea-level – you just boil a kettle…’
‘Clever girl!’
By the time Robert had served the vegetables we’d breasted the Untadhura pass and were veering left to cross the Girthi Gorges. More exclamations here – but not always quite so appropriately placed. ‘And you say the area had never even been properly mapped – surely that was somewhat risky?’
‘No – I told you we had the Pandit with us. So then—’
‘You ate native food?’
‘We always did on tour, and often when we weren’t.’
He selected a particularly succulent slice of roast saddle of mutton and began to neatly trisect it while saying firmly, ‘I wouldn’t fancy that myself – not at all. Carry on Eve – I’m all ears.’
‘Then we
came to this place where we had to cross over a river in the bottom of a sheer-sided gorge, and there was no bridge at all over it, so—’
He put down his fork to say with a frown, ‘And how old were you at this time?’
‘I told you – it was my thirteenth birthday present.’
‘So you said. But for a fellow to take his thirteen year-old daughter on an expedition of that nature—!’
I said sharply, ‘I took them. I told you, I organised it.’ I made an instant decision not to mention my dancing over the edge of the cliff as I continued, ‘Anyway, it wasn’t that deep a gorge, so we just chopped a tree down and pushed the trunk across and then walked over on it.’
Half a boiled potato stopped in mid-flight. ‘By Jove! No wonder you’ve got a good head for heights.’
‘Everyone who lives in the Himalaya has a good head for heights – you don’t last long, otherwise.’ Especially not if you’re stupid enough to dance a fandango on a goat track. But Apa had been there to rescue me – he’d always been there, until – Don’t think, Eve. instead I told Lord Rothbury, ‘Apa shot a tahr – that’s a wild goat – but gosh, it was tough…’ We were on our way again, ‘Tiny temple… sanga bridge (some animated discussion of its construction ensued, reminding me that he’d been a sapper too)… then on to the Dhauli valley… Bhotias… yaks… trade with Tibet… Bhotia dogs’ collars… journey north to Gamsali… along the Niti Gorge – precise details relating to the construction of the path above the river there were both requested and given – ‘And so we decided to camp at Niti village, for a rest day.’
At this point I paused for a brief rest myself, leading him to prompt, ‘So what did you do next?’ What I’d actually done next was shoot the Bhotia dog, but I’d already decided to leave that out, too. People in Britain just didn’t understand about shooting dogs – besides, he’d probably think thirteen was too young to be allowed to shoot a rabid dog. And for a moment I was overwhelmed by the sheer impossibility of explaining India to someone who’d never been there.