‘Sleeping Beauty, I presume,’ Grayson mocked. ‘I looked in to say goodbye but you were well away.’
Mike followed several paces behind his friend and she noticed he smiled no greeting. Instead, he looked tired, defeated almost. She guessed the journey was beginning to take its toll.
‘How were things at ICS?’ she asked, as Ahmed finished serving the inescapable curried chicken.
‘Everyone was very helpful,’ Grayson replied, ‘without actually being very helpful.’
She looked enquiringly at him. ‘They’re a nice bunch, the new officers,’ he said, ‘but they’ve no idea about Javinder’s whereabouts and only the haziest notion of his work. So staying in the office is not going to get us too far.’
‘I’m the one who’ll be staying,’ Mike said heavily.
Grayson looked across the table at his colleague. Mike’s tone had evidently surprised him. ‘Mike will be staying in the office,’ he echoed, ‘as logistical backup. And I’m certainly going to need some. They’ve given us Javinder’s old room and we’ve made a start getting the place set up. Mike has three filing cabinets and a ton of files to sort through. Hopefully our man might have left some indication of where he was going. The first job, though, is to get the telephone company to install an extra line. One that doesn’t go through the main switchboard. We need to be able to talk privately, once I’m on the road.’
Daisy felt a small sinking in her heart. ‘When will that be?’
‘In a day or so, I imagine. Tomorrow I’ll begin making enquiries—someone may know something.’
‘But where will you start?’ It seemed to her that a search for a lone man somewhere in the huge expanse of Rajasthan would be more difficult than for the proverbial needle.
Grayson was undaunted. ‘Where I always start. The town. The bazaar.’
She brightened. At least he should be safe for a few days. And the idea of a visit to the bazaar and its delights was an attractive one.
‘Can I drive in with you?’ It would give her the chance to ask questions of her own under the guise of some innocent shopping.
‘You can, but I have to warn you, I’ll be leaving very early. You’ll have to forgo the Sleeping Beauty routine.’
She smiled at his teasing. ‘And what if my prince hasn’t hacked his way through the forest by then?’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have no choice but to abandon him and make do with me,’ he retorted.
She saw Mike frown and realised with a shock that they had come close to flirting. It would be too easy, she knew, to fall back in love with Grayson and she must guard against it. There was no such thing as a perfect man, any more than a perfect woman, but he came close. Nearly perfect men, though, had their own plan for life and she had hers, and the two were never going to fit. She must be careful. She had no wish to complicate this trip and neither did she want to upset Mike. This evening he seemed to be in a strange mood, his expression morose, his liveliness depressed. Not too many quips about Mrs H., she thought. It might be the effect of the country on him. She had loved India from the start, but she understood that it was not the same for everyone. And she knew, too, that Mike had worries back home. She would need to be extra vigilant in her dealings with Grayson. If Mike were forced to play an awkward third in their relationship, it was unlikely to make him any happier.
Grayson, too, had been surprised to find himself falling back into the easy relationship he’d once enjoyed with Daisy. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, though he had no illusions. The long months of absence had taken their toll on both of them. Once upon a time, she had given him her heart and given it completely, but that moment hadn’t lasted. When he remembered those heady few months after the Sweetman debacle, months when they’d lived only for each other, he felt a pain that stung. And it was still there. He should have realised the truth then, of course. Daisy had saved his life and, in doing so, come close to death herself. Because of the Sweetman affair, they’d been living in an oddly heightened state and that very fact had encouraged them to step into a whirl of emotion they couldn’t control. They had thought they couldn’t live without one another. Except that the war had dragged on for another three years and they’d been forced to. Between Daisy’s nursing shifts and his punishing hours at SIS, they’d met infrequently and, when they did, they were both exhausted from the pressure of work. He’d hoped that when peace came, things would be different. They would pick up the pieces and finally make a home together. He’d told his mother he intended to marry and she’d been content. She had met Daisy on several occasions and liked her. The girl’s background hadn’t been the stumbling block he’d feared, for his mother had proved far more open-minded than he’d expected. And she’d admired Daisy for the way she had made something of her life out of so very little. But even if that had not been the case, his mother would never have rejected the girl who had saved her son from certain death.
Mrs Harte had not been the problem. Mrs Harte’s friends, clustered in their small, genteel enclave of Pimlico, had not been the problem. It had been Daisy herself. His proposal had stunned her. It was as though a stranger had asked to be her husband. After the first shock of rejection, he’d felt angry. Gerald Mortimer had died in dreadful circumstances but that had been seven years ago and, long before then, Daisy had come to know him for what he was—an adventurer, a liar, a betrayer. Memories of her dead husband could not be preventing her from saying yes, so what was? It was hard to swallow but he was forced to the simple conclusion that Daisy had no desire to marry. She was determined to stay a single, independent woman. She had no wish to share her life in any meaningful way. It was sufficient for her to see him from time to time, but she wanted no greater commitment. He’d told her plainly what he thought of that arrangement and the next thing he’d known, she’d taken a job fifty miles away and moved there without telling him. He’d lost heart then; it was better to let her slip away. His mother had been consolatory. She had begun to think that Daisy saying no was a good thing. The girl had been harmed by her harsh upbringing and would never settle to married life. After all, she had never known a family had she, so how could she create a successful one of her own?
Grayson hadn’t accepted his mother’s logic, but a part of him acknowledged there was some small truth in what Mrs Harte had said. He’d seen for himself that Daisy had not escaped her life unharmed. She’d fought the fight well and to all intents and purposes, she’d come through, but there remained a large void in her which she’d been unable to fill. And he’d been unable to help her. This was why she was here. This was what she was chasing by coming to India, a chase that, in his view, was doomed to failure and could mean only more heartache. He understood how the gaps in her story tormented her, but he couldn’t for the life of him see how coming here could help fill them. His best hope was what he’d always believed—that coming back to India would help her deal with the very bad memories she still carried.
The next morning she was already eating her chota hazri when Grayson made an appearance. He looked at her and she saw him smile.
‘Lovely dress, Daisy. But much too good for the bazaar. ‘
‘On the contrary. I have to compete with some very beautiful women and some very beautiful saris.’ Her polka dot sundress was young and fresh but against the richness of Indian materials, she knew it would go unnoticed.
‘No competition. You’ll win hands down.’ She felt herself flush beneath his gaze. She would have to be careful. She buried herself in the plate of small, sweet cakes that Ahmed had left to tempt her.
Grayson
