mind,’ Grace told him cheerfully, ‘we’ll see you at the party on Saturday.’
‘Do you have a telescope?’ Aloysius asked suddenly. ‘You know we’re having an eclipse soon?’
In spite of herself Grace shivered. Perhaps, she thought, confused, there will be rain soon. Briefly her eyes met Myrtle’s.
‘I expect my father has,’ Robert said, distractedly.
He was unable to take his eyes off Alicia who was laughing with Thornton. Catching sight of him looking at her, Alicia called him over to join them.
‘You know, darl,’ Aloysius said, turning to Grace, ‘hundreds of staff on the railways walked out today. The factory workers from the rubber plantations are joining them tomorrow. The copra workers will strike next. The Sinhalese are blaming the Tamils for taking their jobs. I heard on the news yesterday, the government expect things to explode around the time of the eclipse.’
‘I know,’ said Grace softly. She looked at Sunil.
‘Come on, sis,’ Thornton was saying, ‘don’t be so boring! Let’s play a duet. Tell her, will you, Sunil?’
Sunil smiled. They were both such children! He turned to Grace.
‘The government told the factory workers to go back to work or lose their jobs,’ he said, his face serious. He shook his head. It was utterly unbelievable. ‘Trade in rubber and copra had fallen, you know. There’s not much demand for these materials any more. That’s the reason the factories are closing. It’s nothing to do with the Tamils.’
‘Of course, men,’ Aloysius agreed, joining in and beginning to get agitated. ‘This is nothing new, we all know this. Of course, of course. The Tamils haven’t taken the jobs. There are no jobs. It’s the fault of the war! Why don’t the Sinhalese blame it on the war instead?’ he asked belligerently.
Thornton and Alicia had begun to play a duet, laughing and stumbling over the notes, pushing each other off the piano stool. Sunil hesitated, his eyes on Alicia. She was so much younger than him. More than anything else in the world he wanted her life to be trouble-free. He wanted her to live a life of peace.
‘I was out on the streets all of last week,’ he said. ‘Canvassing for the United Ethnic Party.’ Robert had gone over to the piano and was watching Alicia. Sunil lowered his voice. ‘It wasn’t too good.’ He shook his head, gesturing helplessly. ‘There’s a lot of ignorance, a lot of aggression.’
He stopped, seeing Grace’s face. He could not tell her; what he feared the most was a bloodbath.
Christopher scowled at Robert. White fool, he was thinking. Go back to where you belong. You’ve done enough damage with your empire-building. Christopher edged nearer to the door. He had hoped to visit Kamala tonight but now it didn’t look possible. Thornton’s laughter drifted towards him. ‘Oh why don’t you shut up!’ muttered Christopher, distracted. Looking around at her family, aware of certain tensions, Grace sighed. There was a guest present; she could not let Aloysius start an argument. She could see that Christopher was unhappy about something; she could hear Jasper making barking noises, he was probably thirsty. It was not the time for discussions; she would talk to Sunil later, when they were alone and she would find out what he really thought. But for now she needed to change the subject.
‘Christopher,’ she said, raising her voice, ‘could you make sure the servant has given Jasper enough water to drink? It’s very hot at the moment and he seems restless.’
She smiled at him, but Christopher continued to scowl, ignoring his mother.
‘Idiot!’ screeched Jasper suddenly, breaking a longer than usual silence. ‘Imbeciles!’
He fluttered somewhere in the darkness above them. Myrtle could hear his unclipped claws scratch, on heaven knows what antique piece of furniture. Myrtle hated the bird most of all.
‘Idiot! Bastards!’
‘Jasper!’ said Grace sharply. ‘That’s enough. Don’t be so rude.’ She smiled at Robert, a smile as sweet as Alicia’s, adding somewhat unnecessarily, ‘Jasper is our mynah bird, Robert. Unfortunately he has no manners. We’re really not sure what to do about it, but we do think he’s a bit of an oracle!’
Everyone laughed except Myrtle and Aloysius who looked meaningfully at his wife. Who knows what Jasper might say at the wedding? his look warned. But Robert, like many before him, was entranced. A talking bird, he thought. How exotic! The household, the whole family, everything about the de Silvas, was delightfully eccentric. Why had he ever thought this country boring? England suddenly seemed a very long way away.
On the day of the Prime Minister’s party for the High Commissioner Grace brought Vijay a mango freshly picked from a tree in Jaffna. It had been given to her by a servant. No other mango tasted as sweet as those from the north, Vijay told her. But he did not look happy. Carefully he cut into it with his penknife, the juice running down his arm, and all the fragrance of his childhood, all the yearnings of his youth, gathered and fell to the floor. This morning, during their lovemaking, he had hardly looked at her. Sensing some desperation, she tried questioning him afterwards, but he avoided her eye.
‘What is it, Vijay?’ she asked, frightened suddenly. ‘Has something happened?’ She knew he did not want her to go to the party tonight and meet the Prime Minister. He hated this figurehead in a puppet government. She wondered if this was the problem.
‘I had a letter this morning,’ Vijay said slowly. And then, in a rush of unaccustomed bitterness, he told her about his niece, his brother’s daughter. He had often talked about the girl. ‘You know she was five last month.’
Grace nodded. Vijay looked terrible.
‘She became ill with diphtheria a few weeks ago. My brother was very worried. He took his bullock cart into the town where the doctor lived. He walked in the burning heat, the road was covered in red dust. My brother took two pots of curd, hoping to find a doctor he could afford. One that would treat a Tamil child.’ He stopped talking.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Grace.
Vijay was staring at the floor. ‘They sent me the news, today,’ he said barely audibly. ‘They could not find such a doctor. Now they want me to make a puja for her.’
The child had died. His brother was inconsolable.
‘One more Tamil death is not important,’ he said quietly.
‘Oh my God! What kind of people have we become? Where will it end?’
‘There is something wrong with a country that will not unite. There is something wrong with a nation that hates its own people.’
Grace could see that things were breaking inside him, and would not be easily mended. The night before there had been a police attack on a crowd of Tamil office workers and tonight there was a large demonstration taking place near Galle Face. Vijay would go to it, Grace was certain. What could she do? He was stubborn and angry, he had been hurt for so long, Grace could not stop him. She stayed as late as she dared. Then she left to get ready for the party.
Towards six o’clock, in the sudden darkness that descended, Vijay went out into the city. The talk was that there would be another march followed by anti-government speeches. He felt a desperate
