said at last. ‘There’s no point in letting all this talk of civil trouble upset us. Nothing has happened. It will be all right,’ she added, with a certainty she did not feel.
Later that evening, after the servants had cleared the plates, she went out into the garden. The loudspeakers had stopped spewing out their propaganda and the sound of the sea could be heard again for the first time that day. Across the city, as the Independence Day celebrations began, fountains of fireworks rose and sparkled in the darkening sky. The scent of jasmine drifted towards her on the cool breeze and mingled with the faint smell of the sea. Grace walked to the end of the garden where the coconut trees rustled and whispered in the grove. Vijay was out again tonight. He had gone to a meeting organised by a group of Tamils from Trincomalee. Grace had not wanted him to go, but he had told her, in the future, the Tamils would need to stick together. She heard the sound of baila music somewhere in the distance. Small lights twinkled in the trees beyond the coconut grove. The Burgher family were having a party. What was there to celebrate? Grace wondered. She would have liked to slip out, to go and find Vijay, but in the last week she had suddenly become conscious of Myrtle watching her. Every time Grace had come back from the city Myrtle had stared at her, meaningfully.
‘I wish she would leave,’ Grace had told Vijay. ‘I can’t ask her to go but I don’t want her living with us any more. She hates me!’
Vijay had not taken her seriously. He could not imagine anyone hating Grace. Grace, however, remained uneasily watchful. She had tried talking to Aloysius about Myrtle but he too had dismissed her fears.
‘She’s harmless, darl. What’s the matter with you? Of course she doesn’t hate you! That business before we got married was long ago. She’s forgotten about it. She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t.’
But Grace was no longer so sure.
Having retired to her room after dinner Myrtle took out her diary. Grace had done her disappearing act and Aloysius would undoubtedly be drinking himself into a stupor. There would be no interruptions.
October 8. Aloysius left work today and the de Silvas will now be in a serious financial mess. So, where has all their privilege got them? It’s true they still have some influence, should it be needed, but they’re no longer wealthy in the way they once were. When all is said and done, this is a Tamil family. It will take more than a Sinhalese surname to change that! They look Tamil. And the head of the family is a perfect drunk! What a liability. One wrong word and he’ll cause trouble. Tonight, Grace managed to stop him making a fool of himself over the election vans but how long can she go on stopping him? Poor, useless Aloysius can’t see beyond his bottle. Perhaps it is time for me to think of leaving, going back to Jaffna? Perhaps it might be safer there?
She paused and gazed grimly out of her window. The stars were out. Once, her cousin had had everything. Now, however, the planets were moving, they were changing houses. Life did not stay the same forever.
Walking back to the house Grace decided she would begin a novena tonight. She had no control over Aloysius, but this did not bother her. It was Vijay she was thinking of. Last week, he had lost his job at the silk merchants. The manager was new; he was a Sinhalese man. He had told Vijay, since the war finished, cutbacks were necessary in the silk business. Naturally he was sorry to lose Vijay, but, he had shrugged, things weren’t so good for small businesses any more. He would not look at Vijay as he spoke. Later on, Vijay told Grace, he found the other staff would be remaining at Maya’s. They were all Sinhalese. Grace had been speechless with anger. She had wanted to go to the silk merchant and talk to him. But Vijay would not let her.
‘To think of all the business I gave that man,’ she cried. ‘I’ll never shop there again.’
‘Forget it,’ Vijay had said. ‘I’ll find another job.’
I will say a novena for him, thought Grace, staring at the sky. I will go to church especially for him, tomorrow.
Somewhere in the distance a train hooted. Grace shivered. She heard the sound of the gate shut behind her. It was Thornton coming home. In a few weeks Alicia would be graduating at the Conservatoire and they would be all together once more. I must not despair, she thought firmly. Faith was what she needed. Turning towards his footsteps, with a small smile of gladness she waited for her favourite son to walk up the path.
The concert hall, controlled by the last of the Westernised elite, was packed. They arrived late. Heads turned as they took their seats. The de Silva family out in full force for the occasion were very striking. Thornton watched the audience with interest. This is how it will be one day, he thought going into his favourite daydream, when I am famous! This is how they will come to hear me read my poetry. He felt a little nervous on his sister’s behalf. Frieda too was nervous. She had gone to Mass that morning to pray for Alicia. Frieda had been longing for this evening. Weeks and weeks of longing. A lifetime seemed to have passed since her sister had left home. Frieda had never stopped missing her. Now, at last, Alicia would be returning. We’ll be able to be together, thought Frieda happily, her heart beating with joy. We’ll be able to talk properly instead of her constant rushing backwards and forwards. Crossing her fingers she watched the stage expectantly, waiting for Alicia to appear.
Christopher moved restlessly in his seat. After the concert, he was going to see Kamala. He had decided to teach her to read in English. It had only just occurred to him to do this and he was looking forward to seeing the expression on her face when he told her. Jacob was deep in a conversation with a man from work. The Tea Board had been taken over by the Sinhalese, it was not run as efficiently as when the English had been there, but Jacob did not mind. His job was secure enough. He spoke Sinhalese and was generally liked. Besides, what did he care? He was still saving up for his passage to England.
‘Jacob has lots of friends among the Sinhalese,’ remarked Aloysius in a benign mood, watching his eldest son. ‘How does he do it?’
‘Oh look, there’s Anton Gunesekera,’ said Thornton excitedly. ‘He’s from The Times. Shall I tell him about my poetry?’
Idiot, thought Christopher.
‘There’s a girl staring at you, Thornton,’ Frieda said, giggling.
Happiness bubbled up in her. At last, sang her heart. The three years were over. Hurray! They would all be together again. Forever and ever. Her lovely family.
‘She’s been looking at you for ages,’ she told Thornton, happily.
‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ said Myrtle. ‘Let’s hope she’s rich!’ She laughed at her own joke.
The auditorium was buzzing. Proud parents, talent scouts, even the national newspapers were here. Thornton grinned with delight. It was all so thrilling. The Director of the Conservatoire came over to them.
‘Welcome, welcome, Grace, Aloysius,’ he beamed. ‘How lovely to see all of you here together, supporting Alicia. I promise you there’s a wonderful treat in store for you this evening.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Drinks backstage afterwards, don’t forget.’
Aloysius hadn’t forgotten. He watched the Director’s receding back and then, observing Grace’s annoyed expression, he burst out laughing.
‘That fellow’s keen on you, darl!’ he told her.
Aloysius too was relaxed tonight. Looking around the concert hall with unusual pride he thought how beautiful his wife looked. They sat for a while longer, fanning themselves with their programmes.
