damp sari parted exposing her left breast. 'Now there's a thing.. He swung her up into his arms and grinned down at Drummond. 'See you later.'
Drummond swam lazily across to the other side of the bath and back again. He repeated the process twics and then hauled himself out over the stone edge, smoothed by time. He picked up his towel, wrapped it around his waist and padded across the warm tiles.
The next room was long and narrow with a vaulted roof and lined with cubicles, some with curtains drawn. From one he heard Hamid's deep chuckle followed by the lighter laughter of the girl and smiled to himself.
He went into the end cubicle, pulled the bell cord In the comer, climbed on to the stone massage slab and waited. After a while, the curtain was drawn and Ram Singh, the proprietor, entered followed by several bearers carrying buckets of hot and cold water.
The Hindu smiled. 'All is in order, Mr. Drummond?.
"You've made a new man of me,' Drummond said..We could do with you in Sadar/
The Hindu rolled his eyes to heaven in simulated horror. The end of the world, Mr. Drummond. The end of the world. I will send Raika..
He withdrew and Drummond lay there staring up at the ceiling. The end of the world. Well, that wasn't far off as a description of Sadar. A capital city with a population of three thousand, which gave some idea of the size of Balpur itseE A barren, ugly land, harsh and "cruel as its inhabitants. The last place God made. Well, not for much longer, Praise be to Allah.
The curtain rustled and when he turned Ms head, Raika had entered. She was strikingly beautiful and wore a ruby in one nostril and great silver ear-rings with little bells on the end that tinkled when she moved ier head.
Her sari was of blue silk threaded with gold and outlined every curve of her graceful body. Drummond nodded, and without speaking she started to work.
First came the hot rinse, water so scalding that he had to stifle the cry of pain that rose in his throat. She worked on his limbs to start with, first with the brushes and then with practised hands, loosening taut muscles, relaxing him so completely that he seemed to be floating, suspended in mid-air.
And as always, he was amazed at the matter-of-fact-ness of it all, the lack of overt sensuality. But then this was India where life and death, love and the flesh, were all a part of one great mystery.
She sluiced him down again with another bucket of
'hot water that was followed immediately by one so cold it drew the breath from his body. He gasped and there was a glint of laughter in her eyes, barely contained, so that at once she became real, a creature of flesh and blood.
She leaned over Mm, the damp sari gaping to the waist and Drummond cupped a hand over one sharply pointed breast She went very still and stayed there ia that position, leaning across him, her hand still reaching for the brush.
Drummond stared up at her, the nipple hardening against his palm and something stirred in her eyes. Her head came down slowly, the mouth slightly parted, and as he slid his free hand up around her neck, there was a discreet cough at the entrance.
Raika stood back at once completely unconcerned, and Drummond sat up. Ram Singh peered through the curtain, an anxious frown on his face.
'So sorry, Mr. Drummond but there is a person to see you.'
Dremmond frowned..A person?.
'A Miss Janet Tate.. Ram Singh laughed nervously. 'An American lady..
'In this place?'
Hamid appeared at the Hindu's shoulder, a cigarette in his mouth. 'A day for surprises, Jack. Any idea who she is?'
There's one way of finding out.
Drummond tightened the towel around his waist, left the cubicle and went into the next room. It was beautifully furnished with heavy carpets, low divans and round brass coffee tables at which several clients were relaxing
Drummond swam lazily across to the other side of the bath and back again. He repeated the process twics and then hauled himself out over the stone edge, smoothed by time. He picked up his towel, wrapped it around his waist and padded across the warm tiles.
The next room was long and narrow with a vaulted roof and lined with cubicles, some with curtains drawn. From one he heard Hamid's deep chuckle followed by the lighter laughter of the girl and smiled to himself.
He went into the end cubicle, pulled the bell cord In the comer, climbed on to the stone massage slab and waited. After a while, the curtain was drawn and Ram Singh, the proprietor, entered followed by several bearers carrying buckets of hot and cold water.
The Hindu smiled. 'All is in order, Mr. Drummond?.
"You've made a new man of me,' Drummond said..We could do with you in Sadar/
The Hindu rolled his eyes to heaven in simulated horror. The end of the world, Mr. Drummond. The end of the world. I will send Raika..
He withdrew and Drummond lay there staring up at the ceiling. The end of the world. Well, that wasn't far off as a description of Sadar. A capital city with a population of three thousand, which gave some idea of the size of Balpur itseE A barren, ugly land, harsh and "cruel as its inhabitants. The last place God made. Well, not for much longer, Praise be to Allah.
The curtain rustled and when he turned Ms head, Raika had entered. She was strikingly beautiful and wore a ruby in one nostril and great silver ear-rings with little bells on the end that tinkled when she moved ier head.
Her sari was of blue silk threaded with gold and outlined every curve of her graceful body. Drummond nodded, and without speaking she started to work.
First came the hot rinse, water so scalding that he had to stifle the cry of pain that rose in his throat. She worked on his limbs to start with, first with the brushes and then with practised hands, loosening taut muscles, relaxing him so completely that he seemed to be floating, suspended in mid-air.
And as always, he was amazed at the matter-of-fact-ness of it all, the lack of overt sensuality. But then this was India where life and death, love and the flesh, were all a part of one great mystery.
She sluiced him down again with another bucket of
'hot water that was followed immediately by one so cold it drew the breath from his body. He gasped and there was a glint of laughter in her eyes, barely contained, so that at once she became real, a creature of flesh and blood.
She leaned over Mm, the damp sari gaping to the waist and Drummond cupped a hand over one sharply pointed breast She went very still and stayed there ia that position, leaning across him, her hand still reaching for the brush.
Drummond stared up at her, the nipple hardening against his palm and something stirred in her eyes. Her head came down slowly, the mouth slightly parted, and as he slid his free hand up around her neck, there was a discreet cough at the entrance.
Raika stood back at once completely unconcerned, and Drummond sat up. Ram Singh peered through the curtain, an anxious frown on his face.
'So sorry, Mr. Drummond but there is a person to see you.'
Dremmond frowned..A person?.
'A Miss Janet Tate.. Ram Singh laughed nervously. 'An American lady..
'In this place?'
Hamid appeared at the Hindu's shoulder, a cigarette in his mouth. 'A day for surprises, Jack. Any idea who she is?'
There's one way of finding out.
Drummond tightened the towel around his waist, left the cubicle and went into the next room. It was beautifully furnished with heavy carpets, low divans and round brass coffee tables at which several clients were relaxing
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