Then I picked up the slender silver épergne, told him that was the camp site outside Niti village and added it to the diorama I’d already laid out on the tablecloth with the aid of both our salt cellars, their respective spoons, pepper pot, gravy boat (I’d instructed Mr Hayter not to clear that with the remaining saddle of mutton, since it was standing in for Dung), and my water tumbler – Milam. ‘The pass to Tibet was over here’ – I sacrificed his water tumbler since he was drinking wine by now, anyway—’But we couldn’t go any further because we had to get back to Naini Tal.’ I estimated the distance and told him, ‘Naini Tal’s about where that cornflower-patterned cushion is, on the window seat. It was the rehearsals for “The Gondoliers”, you see, and Apa was singing the Duke of Plaza Toro and I was in the chorus.’
Lord Rothbury started laughing, ‘Learning how to sing insults to innocent peers!’
I asserted, ‘It can’t possibly be insulting to tell everyone that they’re equal, because they are, aren’t they?’
Montmorency Algernon Henry Robert Guyzance, Seventh Marquis of Rothbury, did not answer that one. Instead he told me, ‘Sophie is trying to learn Hindustani, but she says it’s pretty tricky.’ So we moved on to discuss India’s Tower of Babel, and then he asked me to demonstrate. I spoke to him in Hindi, Urdu, Pahari, Tibetan, the Bhotia dialect of Byans… She’d preferred that one, Sybella – don’t think, Eve. ‘I only ever learnt a a few words of Tamil, because we always lived in Upper India – I couldn’t say more than the odd sentence.’
He grinned, ‘Then how about a Gaelic insult or two, instead?’
Blushing I said hastily, ‘You know them already – I’ll do you some Chinese, I got a bit of that out of Aunt Ethel. But,’ I added virtuously, ‘It’s not an insult, it’s a proverb.’
He listened, then asked – predictably – ‘So what wise information were you imparting to me then?’ He raised his loaded spoon.
I grinned. ‘It means: “Only a fool pisses on his own chrysanthemums”.’ He was laughing so hard he had to return his full spoon to his plate of rice pudding. ‘You are incorrigible, puss cat!’ Then he added, with a regretful shake of his head, ‘Oh dear, I suppose I’ll have to stop calling you that, now.’ I reassured him, ‘I don’t mind – I quite like it.’
‘Not altogether proper for Miss Evelyn Courtney, though – still, perhapswe might allow ourselves a little leeway in private – ‘ He smiled to me, and I smiled back.
Mr Hayter arrived with the dessert. After he left, Lord Rothbury – Horseface – said, ‘By the way, talking of equality – your cover had already been rumbled by my staff. When I revealed your true identity to Hayter he never even blinked, merely commenting, “Yes, we had gained the impression that the young lady was not unfamiliar with the experience of being served.”’
I exclaimed indignantly, ‘Not since I was thirteen!’
He neighed. ‘Old habits die hard, Eve. Now, would pouring me my coffee in the drawing room prove too much for your republican principles to stomach?’
I chose not to answer that one. instead I allowed him to escort me over to his elegant white-panelled drawing room – where I enthusiastically wielded his equally elegant silver coffee pot.
‘Cream, Lord Rothbury?’
‘Just a dash, thank you, Eve.’
When we’d settled ourselves comfortably either side of the warm fire – in matching armchairs of poppy-scarlet velvet – I looked round with pleasure at that lovely room, before letting my eyes return to where he sat opposite me, at his ease. My gaze lingered on the sweep of his forehead, the arch of his eyebrows, that nose of his, his mouth – which curved in a smile as he looked up at me. Gosh, three more whole days like this one!
Chapter Forty Seven
‘I shall be running up to Town tomorrow,’ he said as he stirred his coffee. I could feel my face fall. He gave another vigorous stir before adding, ‘I have some business I simply must attend to.’ He put his spoon down in his saucer and looked up at me. ‘The truth is, I ought to have gone straight through on the boat train today, but certain – er – anticipated inducements, caused me to divert.’
I blushed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be, puss cat – I’m not. Quite the reverse, in the light of your most recent disclosures. On the contrary, I’m extremely relieved. Extremely.’ His repetition was emphatic. ‘However, there is one problem remaining,’ I was instantly wary. ‘Despite your much more appropriate attire this evening, I find that after all these months of believing in saucy nineteen-year-old Eve Gunn I’m having some difficulty in adjusting to your new role as a schoolroom miss.’
I offered, ‘I could always recite my tables for you – or even some irregular German verbs!’
He laughed. ‘I’m sure they’d be very irregular in your case, puss cat! But that was more or less what I had in mind – that we should strengthen your new role in some way.’ He raised his coffee cup, I raised mine – but before his reached his lips he asked, ‘Do you think you could look upon me as an elder brother?’
I spluttered in mid-swallow, recovered myself, and decided to play the pedantic card. ‘But since I don’t have a younger brother, how can you be—’
He waved my objection aside. ‘Bym will play that part for you – he’ll be delighted to, I’m sure. We both miss Sophie, you know, enormously, so the pair of us are in serious need of a substitute sister. And I thought you might like the position.’ He smiled, winningly. ‘After all, Sophie has gone to India, and you’ve come from India, so it would be a fair exchange, don’t you think?’
Truth to tell, I wasn’t sure what to think. Even allowing for the increasing pace of change in the twentieth century, to travel from prospective mistress via fairy goddaughter to sister (substitute) all in the space of two meal times did seem a trifle sudden.
He leant back in his chair, looking big, genial – and very much in command. I suspected I wasn’t going to have a great deal of choice in the matter. I asked him cautiously, ‘What exactly do substitute sisters do, Lord Rothbury?’
He grinned. ‘I agree, it would be wise to get the precise nature of the role established in advance – this time.’ His smile broadened, ‘You’ve certainly done some blushing today, haven’t you? Anyway, this one is quite simple. The role of a substitute sister is to amuse, divert, entertain – and to pour their elder brother’s tea and coffee for them. All of which duties you’ve already performed.’ I preened. But then, remembering the climbing rule of always testing before you moved, I queried, ‘But what exactly do elder brothers do?’
‘Oh, that’s extremely simple – they provide food, shelter, and clothing for their sisters.’
I reached round to touch my green ribbon. ‘You’ve done all that already.’
‘Exactly – so it would appear we’re ideally suited!’
Another preen, but – test, Eve. I asked cautiously, ‘But is that all that elder brothers do?’
His voice very casual he said, ‘Obviously they keep a general eye on their brothers and sisters – oh yes, and when the situation warrants they give them advice. Good advice, naturally.’ He gave me an encouraging smile.
I was not encouraged – everyone who gives advice thinks it’s good, or they wouldn’t be giving it in the first place – but the person receiving the advice may feel rather differently. On the other hand, advice given is not at all the same as advice taken. So I decided to move.
‘Well, Lord Rothbury, I suppose I could pretend to be your sister for a while.’
‘Thank you Eve – it would make the coming weekend so much simpler for me.’
And as he was saying that I had this brilliant idea. He’d mentioned lndia, and his mother’s cabinet of embroidery silks was standing just by my chair – so now I exclaimed, ‘I could choose you as my bracelet brother!’
‘Who on earth’s that when he’s at home?’
I explained eagerly, ‘In India, there’s a festival when girls give their brothers a ram-rukki – that’s a plaited silk bracelet with seven
little tassels in all the colours of the rainbow. And girls without brothers choose a substitute – so I used to give bracelets to Jasodh and Bikram. May I use your mother’s silks to make one for you?’
Permission granted I began snipping my lengths and weaving my bracelet – all the time telling him the story of Chitor – embroidered with details from my visit there, with Apa. I told him how Queen Kurnavati, beseiged by her enemies, had sent for the help of her bracelet brother, Humayun, the Mughal king. But before he could reach her the enemy had begun to break through the fort’s defences, so she smuggled out her son, the infant king, and then, determined never to be captured herself, she led all her ladies to their deaths on the funeral pyre.
I knotted the indigo tassel and sewed it into place saying, ‘After his mother died the baby king was attacked again – but Punnia, his foster mother, saved him by letting them murder her own son, instead.’ Knotting the violet tassel I picked up my needle while telling Lord Rothbury, ‘The fort itself is in ruins these days – it’s on top of a rock five hundred feet high, and you go up to visit it on an elephant – through seven gates.’ I cut the last thread. ‘There, that’s the seventh tassel done now.’ Thrusting my needle back in its case I raised the finished bracelet and twirled it round for his inspection. ‘So now you can be my bracelet brother, and I’ll send for you if I need rescuing – just like Queen Kurnavati did to King Humayun.’
He frowned, ‘But that chappie didn’t arrive in time.’
I said confidently, ‘Oh, I’m sure you would, Monty.’
To which he replied in a thoughful tone of voice, ‘I don’t quite remember giving you permission to call me by my Christian name.’
I smiled. ‘Alright then. As your substitute sister I’ll just call you whatever your real sister does.’ He made no reply to this, so I asked, in as innocent a voice as I could manage, ‘So what does Lady Sophie call you?’
Silence, then, ‘Alright, Eve – you win that round.’
I was so pleased with my success that I simply couldn’t resist having another go at tweaking the tiger’s tail. I said, ‘Lord Rothbury – Monty,’ allowing myself a brief smirk of triumph, ‘When we went swimming at Helspie we never wore bathing costumes.’
‘So I inferred’
‘But Duggie always said I had to keep away from the boys in the water.’
‘Thank goodness somebody at Helspie had a sense of the proprieties!’
That was not the way I’d normally describe Duggie – but obviously on this one he’d had more idea than me. Back to the present, and the Overby drawing room, where now I leant forward to say, ‘So you see, we never really had a good look at one of those male shaft things – not close up.’ My voice brightened encouragingly, ‘So I wondered if you’d let me look at yours – just a peep!’
He burst out laughing. ‘No, you most certainly cannot!’
‘But drawings aren’t the same, you can’t really tell what it’s like from them.’
‘Hard luck, Eve – the mystery will remain.’ He smiled his tiger smile. ‘And I’m quite sure that if I had upped and dropped my trousers you would have been horrified.’ Which was true enough. ‘And I’m also quite sure that you knew perfectly well I would not do any such thing – or you wouldn’t have risked asking me in the first place.’
Also true. But I still challenged, ‘How can you possibly know that?’
‘Let’s say that over the last few hours I’ve become a great deal more – familiar – with the nature of Eves.’ Just that slight emphasis on the word ‘familiar’, and that broadening tiger smile of his – and for a moment I was back in the tower and he was touching me – there. I bent my head, but he could still see my fiery cheeks and he brayed, loudly. ‘That little tease was more in the nature of a ricochet, I think, puss cat.’ Oh well, you can’t win them all.
He held one hand out invitingly, ‘Now, aren’t we going to see if that bracelet of yours fits?’
I sprang up and over the hearthrug and dropped to my knees at his feet. He gave me his strong right hand, and I eased the bracelet on over it. It was only just big enough. Once it was fully in place he raised his arm and shook it — setting all the tiny tassels dancing. They looked so incongruous on his huge, bony wrist that we both burst out laughing. Then he asked, ‘But doesn’t the chosen brother give some token in return?’
‘I think he can send a miniature tunic, but the Singhs and I never used to bother – the sister’s the one who’s supposed to send for help.’
He touched the silken bracelet gently before saying, ‘So next time you’re in a hole, I come to your rescue?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘But Eve,’ his voice was serious now, ‘It must be a genuine, deep hole.’
‘Obviously – I can get out of small holes myself.’
He neighed, ‘Plenty of practice, eh?’ Then he glanced at the clock. ‘I’m afraid that one of the duties of an elder brother is to ensure that sisters go to bed on time – especially when they’ve barely finished their convalescence.’ He stood up – but I remained kneeling at his feet. So he reached down and pulled me up to face him. ‘Good night puss cat – I’ll see you at breakfast.’
‘When you said goodnight to your real sister, didn’t you-?’
My hands were dropped at once. ‘Yes I did – but no, Eve – there must be no more kisses between the two of us.’
‘I bet if I’d really been Eve Gunn you’d still have kissed me goodnight – even if I was only seventeen, and hadn’t known about the apple.’
‘Quite possibly. But you aren’t Eve Gunn, are you? You’re Miss Evelyn Courtney, so the answer is, absolutely not.’
I objected, ‘That’s not fair.’
He spoke quietly, ‘Life isn’t fair, Eve, you know that. Off you go now.’
At the door, before opening it for me, he said, ‘By the way, puss cat, obviously Eve Gunn and our mutual – exploits, must remain our secret.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Good girl.’ We smiled to each other before saying our final ‘good nights’ – then he closed the door behind me.
I was tired – but not so tired that I didn’t spend some time in my bedroom looking at those drawings of his again. And I was still thinking about them when I put my head down on the pillow. It really was amazing. And just suppose Glad hadn’t told me all that rubbish about tongues – and then Horseface had come up to my room tonight, and slid his huge, warm body under the sheets, taken me into his arms, kissing, fondling, caressing me in that most intimate of places, and then, suppose he’d… Would I have let him? I drifted into sleep…
…I was dreaming, dreaming I was Eve in the garden, and in the distance I could see the forbidden tree and the serpent coiled around it. But as I came nearer I saw he had brawny arms and long, powerful legs – one of them dangling casually over a branch. He was not a serpent but a dragon, huge an handsome, with silver scales that shone in the sunlight. I looked up at his face and saw his big, long nose, and his broad mouth already curving into its familia smile – and I ran towards him.
And woke up, knowing the answer to that final question. Yes, I would have let him.
But really I’d known that answer already. l’d known it even as he’d told me reassuringly,’You know, I do believe that if I’d pushed you further, you would have stopped me.’ And he’d known the truth, too – his voice had been just that twitch too reassuring as he’d said it. Because of course he wouldn’t have pushed me, he’d have led me on – enticing me with touch of mouth and hand into willing – if somewhat surprised – compliance. Oh yes, I’d have let him alright, we both knew that. Another shared secret. This one so secret, so complicit, that we hadn’t even admitted it to each other. But we both knew.
Of course, if I’d known what I knew now – but I hadn’t. And if he’d known what he did now, he wouldn’t. But if neither of us had known, then – so I would have let him. And having once admitted that, I let myself dwell now on the incredible shared inti
macy of that act – and felt my body soften and become warm, so that I turned almost as if to reach out for him. Until Apa’s voice spoke loud and clear in my head: ‘Don’t move, Eve. Test first – always test first.’
That was the hardest rule he’d had to teach me, when we were climbing – but taught me he had. And I’d only ever broken that rule once since. And where had I chosen to break it? On the Old Man of Wick – that most untrustworthy of cliffs. Stupid, stupid Eve.
But I’d never forgotten it, and now it was my own voice I heard in my head, asking clearly and sharply: ‘But how trustworthy is this cliff, Eve – this mountain called Monty?’ As soon as I’d asked myself that question I wished I hadn’t – but once asked it had to be answered.
‘I don’t know, I simply don’t know.’ A moment of regret, but – no Eve, no climbing this one until you’re sure. Scramble around at the bottom of your cliff, maybe – but no more, not yet. Not until you’re sure.
I turned over on to my other side, and began drifting back to sleep again. My thoughts and images became jumbled. He’s not a cliff, he’s a tiger, and I like tigers. Never turn your back on a tiger, Eve – some tigers eat people… Is my tiger a maneater?
Not men, women. He’s a serpent who eats the apples himself. Apple tarts. And it was his voice I remembered now, telling me, ‘You see, I do play with toys.’ Not toys. Tarts. He toys with tarts. So wait, Eve – wait safely in the garden. Wait until you’re sure.
This time I didn’t dream. Or if I did I didn’t remember. But I awoke next morning with Apa’s beloved voice of warning clear in my head. ‘Test Eve – and don’t move.’ I sprang out of bed.
Since my serpent had decided I was too young to leave Eden yet, I might as well enjoy myself, here in the garden. After all, paradise is paradise – especially when the serpent’s there with you. And serpents really are tremendous fun. So leave his apples alone for now, Eve, and just eat his breakfast instead.
Chapter Forty Eight
His breakfast – our breakfast – was placed on the hotplate, so we could serve ourselves. Porridge, bacon, eggs, sausages, a dish of kedgeree, fresh brown toast, butter and marmalade. Mr Hayter asked, ‘Would you prefer tea or coffee, Miss Courtney?’ Followed by, ‘China or Indian?’