Page 112 of The Sapphire Child
Andrew lingered until the shadows lengthened and he knew he couldn’t put off returning to the hotel any longer; it would be dark in half an hour. He said his goodbyes to the Dixons and pedalledhome as he’d done countless times as a boy, the sky turning pink and flocks of birds settling noisily into the trees.
Drawing near to the Raj, his heart skipped a beat as he turned into Nichol Road. There, in front of the hotel, was parked the Lomaxes’ battered green van. His father had arrived.
Andrew took deep breaths as he wheeled the bicycle up the pathway to the portico. He could hear laughter coming from the lobby – Jimmy’s infectious giggle – and a deeper voice, one he also knew. Handing over the bicycle to the waiting Manek, he braced himself, as if going into battle, and strode into the hotel.
A middle-aged man with his back to the door was sitting in a cane chair next to Ansom and Fritwell. A bald patch on the crown of his head gleamed in the dim electric light and long bony hands clutched a tumbler of whisky and a half-smoked cigarette.
‘Ah, our young subaltern returns!’ Fritwell cried, catching sight of Andrew.
Their companion turned and for a moment he locked eyes with Andrew. Andrew felt a strange sensation; it was like looking at himself in thirty years’ time. The familiar face was deeply scored with wrinkles and the hair at his temples was grey. Then his father plonked his glass on the table, abandoned his cigarette and sprang to his feet.
‘Andy!’ he called out, pushing past another chair to get to him.
Andrew felt his chest swell with emotion at the use of his childhood name and the delight on his father’s face. Then he saw the look falter as his father hesitated about how to greet him.
Quickly Andrew stuck out his hand.
‘Hello, Dad.’ His voice sounded croaky.
Tom clutched his hand in both of his and held on.
‘My boy,’ he said, his eyes glinting with tears. ‘So good to see you again.’
‘You too,’ Andrew responded, a lump in his throat.
They stood like that for a moment, then Ansom was calling them over. ‘Here’s a chota peg for you, young Lomax!’
‘A celebration indeed!’ Fritters said, red-faced and jolly.
Andrew wondered how many drinks they’d already had with Tom.
Jimmy hurried over and directed Sanjeev to pull out a chair for Andrew next to his father and place a whisky and soda on the table in front of him. They sat down. Andrew pulled out his cigarette case and offered it to his father. Tom looked taken aback and then smiled and took one. They both lit up.
For a few minutes it was the residents who kept up the conversation, first asking Andrew about his trip out and then switching to the day’s news and the likelihood of Sir Stafford Cripps’s mission failing.
‘What do you think, Andy?’ his father asked.
Andrew was startled by the sudden question. He toyed with his untouched whisky. ‘I don’t really know much about Indian politics. Not for me to say...’
‘Of course it is,’ said Tom. ‘You young are the future of this country.’
‘I’m British,’ said Andrew, meeting his look, ‘and my country is thousands of miles away.’
‘As it is for all of us,’ agreed Fritwell. ‘But we have responsibilities here – to govern India well. When the future of the Empire and our nation is at stake, then we have to crack down hard on the enemies within.’
‘Or you give them self-rule,’ suggested Tom, ‘and all fight on the same side.’
Ansom chuckled. ‘Captain Lomax! Living in the hills has turned you into a radical jungli,’ he teased.
Tom gulped his whisky and gave Andrew an encouraging nod. ‘So, what are they saying about India at home?’
Andrew shrugged. ‘To be frank, not much. But when I left, the Japanese hadn’t begun to invade our territories. India was seen as safe – apart from the North West Frontier – which is why the Borderers are being sent to bolster our presence in the tribal areas. The big fear is if the Axis powers defeat Russia and attack India via Afghanistan and the Frontier.’
‘Same old story,’ said Tom. ‘We’ve always been vulnerable along the Frontier. It used to be fear of Russia and now it’s the Nazis.’
‘We should fear them,’ said Andrew, stubbing out his cigarette and growing animated. ‘The fascists are the biggest threat to world peace there’s ever been. Europe is under the jackboot and it looks like the fascist Japanese forces are trying to do the same all over Asia. That’s why I joined the army because I saw what was happening – from Czechoslovakia to Spain the fascists were destroying democracy.’
There was silence. Tom broke it. ‘Well, you joined for far more honourable reasons than me. I took a commission in the Rifles because my father told me to.’ His eyes shone. ‘You are a young man of principle.’
