Then she picked up her hoolahoop from the ground and began to swing it on her hips.
‘Elvis the pelvis,’ Alice said.
Everyone knew Esther was Elvis-mad and that the whole of her house was a shrine to him. Alice continued to gaze at her.
‘Why don’t you get some proper gum?’ she asked again.
‘They don’t sell gum at the kade,’ Esther said at last. And it’s too expensive at the hotel shop.’
‘Come on, children,’ May called out from the dining room. ‘Time to cut your cake, Alice.’
They sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and Alice blew out all nine candles in one go so she knew her wish would come true.
‘How much longer before the wedding, Aunty May?’ Esther asked.
If there was one thing Esther envied Alice for, it was having an aunt like May. Her own family consisted of just her mother and herself, for her father had died when she had been born. Esther had known the Fonsekas all her life and May with her large dark eyes had all the glamour of the film star Esther wanted to become when she grew up. May smiled and handed out the cake plates.
‘Three weeks and four days after the new baby arrives,’ she said, winking at her niece. ‘You’ll be the big sister then!’ she added, laughing at the expression on Alice’s face. ‘Don’t worry, darling, you’ll always be the eldest. The baby won’t count! Look at me, once a baby always a baby!’
May was ten years younger than Sita, less remote and easier to talk to. She worked as an English teacher in the boy’s school at the top of Mount Lavinia Hill. She was the only woman who taught there. Everyone joked that she had got the job because of her looks and that the masters were all a little in love with her. Even after the scandal of her sister’s elopement, no one had turned against May. She was too beautiful for that. Then a few years ago May had met Namil. He was from a well-respected Singhalese family and had been to the university in Peradeniya where he’d qualified as an engineer. Very soon Namil had fallen in love with her.
‘He’ll never be short of a good job,’ Alice’s mother had said wistfully when she heard.
Namil was very tall. Together, he and May made a striking pair. Esther was constantly admiring them.
‘You’re so lucky,’ she told Alice, ‘having an aunt like May. It’ll be such a stylish wedding.’
Aunty May is lucky that Namil is a Singhalese,’ Alice agreed. ‘Not like my dada.’
Startled, Esther raised her eyebrows.
‘Don’t go passing on such information to everyone, men,’ she said loftily. ‘Not in this day and age, or you’ll get into trouble.’
‘Alice!’ May called. ‘Don’t neglect your guests. They’re dying for more cake! Come and serve them.’
‘I’d better make a move,’ Sita announced without moving.
‘Why on earth can’t you stay the night?’ Dias asked.
Being both neighbour and family friend, she felt she could say those things others could not without giving offence.
‘It’s no use, Dias. I’ve already asked her,’ Kamala said.
There was an awkward pause. Sita shook her head without speaking and the conversation moved on in sharp staccato sentences overlaying each other. Every word seemed as heavy as the heat outside.
Are you going to the fair tonight, Alice?’ Esther asked.
‘Yes, yes,’ May called out, laughing at them. ‘It was meant to be a surprise, Esther! Namil and I are going to take you tonight, Alice.
It’s your birthday treat. Your second birthday treat in one day, you lucky girl!’
May came over to where they sat on the cool verandah beside the pots of ferns.
‘Are you going to live in England, then?’ Esther asked suddenly.
‘No, of course not!’
‘Oh! Why have you got a passport then?’
Alice didn’t know. Her father’s older brother lived in England. He had gone long before Alice was born.
‘I think he sent it,’ she said dubiously. As a present.’
‘You don’t give people passports as presents,’ Esther scoffed.
‘It’s always good to have a passport,’ May told them lightly.
‘Why?’ asked Alice, but May had turned and was taking Sita’s bag out to the car. There was a scraping back of chairs and the grown-ups came out on to the verandah. They no longer looked happy.
‘I think,’ Esther said softly, ‘you’ll find you are going.’
She spoke under her breath and Alice, glancing up at her mother, did not hear. Although she did notice that Sita had a funny, closed expression. It was the look that usually followed an argument. Her grandfather was frowning and staring at the ground.
‘Come, then,’ Bee said finally. ‘I’ll take you.’
He sounded cross.
‘Will Stanley be waiting for you at the station?’ Dias asked.
‘Oh yes,’ Sita replied. She spoke easily but Alice knew, from the way she spoke, that she was lying.
‘Can I learn to ride my bicycle now?’ she asked, kissing Sita good-bye.
‘Don’t wear your grandparents out,’ was all her mother said.
‘You must get out of your school uniform first,’ her grandmother added.
‘We must go too, child. Just look at the time,’ Dias announced, yawning. ‘Come on, Esther. If you’re going out tonight you must help me in the house first.’
‘I’ll be back soon,’ Bee called.
He turned to Alice and now he was smiling again.
‘So be ready,’ he warned. ‘We’ll go to the beach and I’ll teach you to ride your bike!’
Outside, the sea beckoned invitingly. It hissed and rolled restlessly, catching the last of the radiant light. Ahead of them, three white ships had positioned themselves against the horizon, and as the last train to Colombo hooted its way towards the station a small kite rose and fell languidly in the breeze.
Later, when he returned, Bee and Alice set off on foot, down to the sea.
‘Like in The Water Babies,’ said Alice, who had just finished reading the book.
‘Don’t be long,’ Kamala warned. And hold her hand when you cross the line.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Bee waved impatiently.
But
