Page 53 of The Sapphire Child
September 1934
Dear Andy,
I was really happy to get a birthday card from you.
We were all sad that you didn’t come out to India this summer but I hope you enjoyed your holiday in Switzerland. Were the Alps as beautiful as the mountains in Kashmir? Did you and Noel spend the time walking and climbing? Fishing perhaps? Your dad still goes off fishing – though I know he misses taking you with him.
Stella broke off. Maybe she would ink over that last line. She didn’t want Andrew to feel guilty about not coming home for the holidays.
It was nearing the end of the season at The Raj-in-the-Hills and she would soon be travelling back to Pindi. She wouldn’t tell Andrew that things were strained between Tom and Esmie. Stella was worried about them. So far, Lydia had not kept her promise to instigate divorce proceedings against Tom.
‘Why did I ever believe she’d stick to her side of the bargain?’ Tom had fulminated. ‘Under Scottish law she can divorce me for desertion. We don’t even have to resort to adultery as a reason.’
‘I don’t see why you won’t divorce her!’ Esmie said, her patience snapping.
‘Because it wouldn’t be the gentlemanly thing,’ Tom had said in agitation. ‘And I’d have to go to Edinburgh to do so. We can’t afford it.’
‘We could scrape the fare together, surely? Then we could see Andy – and visit my Aunt Isobel.’
‘But it could take months – maybe a year. We can’t leave the business for that long.’
‘The Duboises could cope with both hotels—’
‘They shouldn’t have to! I’m not leaving Gulmarg. I’ll write again to Lydia and make her see sense.’
Stella resumed her letter-writing.
The baroness came up here for a fortnight, which was lovely. She went riding nearly every day – she looked so elegant in her old-fashioned riding habit and still rides side-saddle! She must be about eighty but she still won’t tell anyone her real age. As she always says, ‘Young at heart, darling, that’s what counts.’
May 1935
Dear Andy,
This is to wish you a very happy fifteenth birthday!
Jimmy is still playing a lot of cricket, which is annoying his girlfriend Yvonne – she thinks he should be spending his free time taking her to dances at the Chota Club. My brother just laughs it off. Ican’t see him ever settling down. She’d be better off transferring her affections to another man – someone like my cousin Rick or one of the Gibson twins, as they all love to go dancing.
The residents at the Raj are getting a bit creaky but they’re all still with us. Ansom and Fritters have become quite friendly with MrTamang, the retired Gurkha soldier, and he now joins them for chota pegs before dinner. What are you doing this summer? Your dad would love it if you could come out here. You are probably the most hopeless letter writer I’ve ever known but at least we hear occasionally from Tibby how you’re getting on. She tells me that Dawan has been giving you drawing lessons.
Write soon!
Stella x
August 1935
Happy Birthday, Stella!
I hope you like the sketch of the boathouse below The Anchorage. Dawan calls me a Persian miniaturist! I thought he would be quite a critical teacher but he’s very encouraging and says I should think of doing Art at Glasgow or London. He’s jealous that I’m on holiday on the French Riviera because lots of artists come here. I find it too hot and can’t wait to go to the Highlands with the Langleys at the end of the holidays.
Andrew glanced out of the villa window at the view of shimmering sea beyond a fringe of pine trees and craggy rocks. He wouldn’t risk posting the card till he got back to Scotland in case his mother asked questions. He’d had his biggest row ever with Mamma at Easter. This year, he’d been determined to go to India for the summer holidays and had begun mentioning it in letters to his mother during the Lent term.
On Easter Sunday, he’d gone with his grandmother and mother to lay flowers on his Grandfather Jumbo’s grave in StEbba’s churchyard. Lydia had wept openly and later taken Andrew aside.
‘I can’t bear the thought of Mummy dying too. She’s growing frailer by the day. You must have noticed a difference since Christmas? I hate the idea of something happening to Mummy while you’re away all summer in India. You’d feel dreadful, wouldn’t you?’
‘Nothing’s going to happen—’
‘It could easily. And I’d have to deal with it on my own – and with you thousands of miles away.’
