Mourning Raga

heartbreak and tears and maternal desperation as Dorette Lester; sometimes she wondered why he had even tried. And sometimes, too, she wondered exactly why he had waived his rights of access, resigned from his science chair, and left for India immediately after the divorce suit ended. Was it outraged love and implacable anger against the wife who had shucked him off – a broken heart, in fact? Or had he merely extricated himself in shock and disgust from a world he had suddenly realised was not for him, a jungle not denser than, but different from, his own? She knew better than to simplify his withdrawal; herself uncomplicated though occasionally devious, she was subtle enough to recognise a greater subtlety.

‘I will give you his address in Delhi, and his mother’s, too – Mrs Purnima Kumar – just in case of any contretemps. There will be no difficulty, you’ll see. And of course, all expenses will be my concern, I’ll see that you have plenty of funds. No need even to hurry back, after all, you must see something of India while you’re there. Satyavan will be glad to help you make the best use of your time, I know.’

She didn’t know anything of the kind, she hadn’t been in touch with her ex-husband since he left America, but the family eminence ensured that they would have to put on a show for the visitors; she had learned that much about the Kumars.

‘When,’ asked Tossa, with careful, measured quietness, ‘is Anjli expected to arrive in London?’

‘The day after tomorrow. If you could come with me to meet her at London Airport, we could have a night all together, and I could arrange your flight for the next day. Such luck, I have an old, good friend who is filming over there, quite near to Delhi, and I’ll wire him to meet your plane and take care of you. If you need anything – but anything! – you can call on Ernest, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me. But the journey itself is just too much for a child alone. And we’re so pressed, quite behind schedule, you see it’s impossible for me…’

Yes, quite impossible. Not simply because it would inconvenience her, there was more to it than that. India was an alien world into which she had no wish to venture, and Satyavan Kumar was something more distant than a stranger, because he had once been so close. This much of Dorette at least was genuine, she would almost rather die than confront this part of her past again. That all-American marriage – they said this millionaire of hers was a disarmingly nice and simple person – was her life-line, she daren’t let go of it for an instant to look behind her.

‘You will take my little girl over there for me, won’t you?’ Knock off the calculated charm, and in its way it was still a cry from the heart.

‘Dorette! You ready there?’

‘Yes, Lennie! We’re right with you! Tossa, dear…’

‘Yes, Miss Lester… Yes, of course we’ll take her!’

‘Darling… so grateful… my mind at rest now… Sure, Lennie, coming! Day after tomorrow… Heathrow… I’ll phone you the details… what was that Midshire number again?’ And Chloe laughed, not aloud, just a faint purring sound of contentment, and hugged and kissed her own daughter briefly.

When they crept out of the sound stage she was singing, without a trace of irony, back there behind them in the furnished corner bright as a nova:

‘When will you learn to moderate, my love,

The ardour of a heart that can be broken...’

Tossa sat dour and silent in the Mini for some moments after they had made their way out of the lot and turned north for Midshire and Dominic’s blessedly normal home. Then she said in a dubious voice: ‘Of course, for all we know the father may be no better. But at least he ought to have his chance. And anyhow, this one’s contracting out, so somebody has to do something.’ And in a moment, with reviving optimism about the general state of man: ‘We’ll see what your people say about it.’

All Dominic said was: ‘I still don’t see where the catch is, but there has to be one somewhere.’

What Dominic’s people said, almost in unison though they were tackled separately, was: ‘Of course go! You’d be crazy not to. Always say yes to opportunity, or it may never offer again.’ And his mother, viewing Tossa’s grave face with sympathy, added: ‘If the worst comes to the worst, bring her back. We can fight out the rest of it afterwards.’

So they were all there at Heathrow to meet Anjli’s plane, Dorette in mink and cashmere and Chanel perfume, Chloe booted and cased in leather dyed to fabulous shades of purple and iris, with something like a space helmet on her extremely shapely little head and Ariel’s formidable and lovely make-up on her clever faun’s face, Dominic and Tossa top-dressed for the frost outside, but with their modest cases full of hurriedly assembled cottons and medium-weight woollens, mostly organised out of nowhere by Dominic’s mother. Who now had her feet up at home, a drink at her elbow and a paperback in her hand, and only the mildest regrets at facing a quieter Christmas than she had expected. It was a long time since she’d had her husband to herself over the Christmas holidays. And what fools these children would have been to pass up India, upon any consideration, when it fell warm, aromatic and palpitating into their arms.

In the arrivals lounge the privileged crowded to the doors to see their kin erupting through passport control. Dorette swooped ahead in a cloud of pastel mink and subtle fragrance.

‘Darling! Oh, honey, how lovely to see you!’

The girl turned an elegant head just in time to present her left cheek to the unavoidable kiss, adjusted her smile brightly and extricated herself more rapidly and dexterously than Dominic would have believed possible.

‘Hi, Mommy! How have you been? Gee, what a flight, I’m about dead on my feet. Oh, hi! You must be Miss Bliss, Mommy’s told me so much about you, and all about this darling film. My, that outfit’s keen, you know that? It’s just a dream…!’

If ever the selfconscious and phoney and the real and eager and young met in one voluble utterance, this was the time. But it took somebody Chloe’s age to respond to all the nuances at once, and Chloe had relegated herself deliberately to a back seat, and didn’t mean to be turfed out of it. Let Tossa, who prided herself so on her maturity, make her own way through the quicksands. Chloe smiled, kissed the pale golden cheek and made a cool neutral murmur in the small, fine, close-set golden ear.

‘And here’s my daughter Tossa, who’s coming with you to Delhi… And Dominic Felse, a friend of Tossa’s… a friend of all of us…’

‘Why, sure,’ said the clear, thrilling little voice, aloof as a bird, ‘any friend of yours! I just hope I get in as one of the family, too.’ She put a thin, amber hand into Tossa’s, smiled briefly and brilliantly, and passed on to Dominic with markedly more interest. ‘Hullo, Dominic! Gee, I’m lucky, being so well looked after. I sure appreciate it, I really do.’