Land of Hope and Glory Read Free Page A

grass.
    Through an arched window, he could see the dining room, where silver thalis and bowls glinted on the table. Dinner had just finished and Shri and Shrimati Goyanor had risen and were gesturing for their three guests to join them in the drawing room. Shri Goyanor – a short, plump man – wore his usual beige tunic, while his wife stood tall and elegant in an emerald sari. The children had probably already been sent to bed. Servants in white were busily clearing the table.
    Shri Goyanor was obviously in a good mood – he beamed and rubbed his stomach as he spoke. He was a good-hearted man. He could be sullen, but then so could anyone. The main thing was that he always kept his word, and Jack valued that. It was like in the army. You trusted your officers because they treated you fairly, and in return you would lay down your life for them if they asked you to.
    Jack went on around the side of the house and past the line of palm trees that Shrimati Goyanor insisted on trying to grow. He met Tom, the nightwatchman, coming the other way.
    ‘Evening,’ Jack said.
    Tom raised his lantern and nodded back. He didn’t speak much and Jack approved of this. Tom was a reliable man, who’d been at the house for eight years – almost as long as Jack himself. During that time Jack had never caught him shirking or sleeping on the job, although perhaps he did like a drink a little too much.
    ‘Keep an eye on Edwin,’ Jack said. ‘Don’t let him leave that gate.’
    ‘Aye, I’ll watch him.’
    Jack continued to the back of the house, where only the light from the pantry trickled across the lawn. Ahead of him, the four acres of the gardens were almost pitch black. Off to the right, behind a row of bushes, stood the wall of the servants’ compound.
    ‘Jack.’
    Sarah, the head cook, appeared from the pantry and slipped across the grass towards him.
    He cursed under his breath. He’d been avoiding her. He’d slept with her a few nights ago, but that had been a mistake. Now she seemed to think there was something between them.
    She stepped out of the shadows and looked up at him. She was pretty, with brown hair that fell in thick locks past her shoulders.
    ‘Haven’t seen you around much,’ she said.
    ‘Been busy.’
    ‘Big night tonight. The mistress’s been in a right state.’ She waggled her head and imitated Shrimati Goyanor’s thick Indian accent. ‘ I told you never to use garlic and onions when we have government officials to dinner .’
    Jack smiled slightly.
    ‘I’m dead tired now, though,’ she said. ‘Got another blessing in the morning too, first thing.’
    Jack knew that all cooks had to be blessed regularly if they were to prepare food for the Rajthanans. The Rajthanans had a lot of strange ideas about food and drink. It was something to do with their system of caste, which they called jati. The higher jatis wouldn’t take food from the lower jatis, and no one would take it from Europeans unless they were blessed. Jack had actually seen a dying officer in the field refuse water from a native soldier to avoid being polluted.
    ‘If you have an early start I’d better let you get on,’ Jack said quickly, turning to leave. Maybe he could get away before things got difficult.
    ‘Jack.’
    He stopped and turned back.
    Her face was serious now. ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea—’
    ‘I see.’ A glint of moisture appeared in one of her eyes. She looked off into the dark gardens. ‘Like that, is it?’
    ‘You know the rules. Servants can’t be couples. We’d get fired.’
    ‘No one would find out.’
    ‘We can’t risk it. Anyway, you could do better than me. Get yourself a good man. Get married.’
    He meant it. He wasn’t well, not since . . . his accident. Sarah didn’t know about his injury and he didn’t want to burden her with it. She should have a strong man who could take care of her . . . But there was more to it than that. If he