‘I’m Purushottam Narayanan,’ he said, in a clear, courteous, almost didactic voice. ‘Everything’s ready for you. Do come in!’
The hospitality of the Narayanan household was absolute but not elaborate, the furnishings of the rooms comfortable but simple, and Indian style, like the dinner they presently ate in a large and rather bare room overlooking the terrace and the small, glimmering fires and lamps of the village below. Cutlery and some nine or ten dishes of various vegetables and curries were set out on a large table, and everyone on entering was handed a warmed plate and turned loose to charge it as he felt inclined. The host, attentive, grave and reserved as yet, told them what each dish contained, and added punctilious warnings where he felt the contents might be rather highly spiced for their tastes. Then they all sat down with their selections at a smaller table set in the window, and two servants hovered in the background, ready to offer replenishments at a nod from their master.
Afterwards the servants brought bowls of a creamy sweet made with rice, its surface covered with tissue-thin sheets of silver foil, which were also meant to be eaten; and fruit, in a bowl of water, and rich, strong coffee.
By this time they had exchanged all the courtesies, the host expressing his gratitude for their company and his pleasure in it, the guests their thanks for his kindness and their appreciation of all the thought he had given to their comfort; and still they were no nearer knowing whether his pleasure was personal or formal, his gratitude heartfelt, even desperate, or merely an acceptable phrase. He sat among them, cross-legged at one end of the long seat built into the window, talking intelligently about merely current things, such as the Indian scene, and their journey, and their intended onward journey, his large, unwavering dark eyes moving intently from face to face, and no gesture missing and nothing undone that could contribute to their well-being; but some inward part of him might as well have been, and probably was, a million miles away from them.
He was by no means a small man, being fully as tall as Dominic, though still a couple of inches short of Larry’s gangling height; but he was built in the slender South Indian style, with light bones and smooth, athletic flesh, and in repose he looked almost fragile; an impression reinforced by the refinement and tension of his face, which was clearly but suavely cut, without any of the hawk-likeness of Lakshman’s Punjabi features. The moulding of his lips was fastidious and reticent, the poise of his head very erect, even drawn a little back, as though in insurmountable reserve. And out of this austere countenance the melting southern eyes gazed doubtfully, withholding communication, even while he discoursed politely and plied them with favours.
But there was nothing indecisive about the face, and nothing to suggest that the part of him he kept private was not engaged at this very moment in furious and resolute activity of its own.
‘I must apologise,’ he said, when even the coffee had been cleared away, ‘for being such a poor host. I have been too preoccupied with this responsibility here, to which I’m not accustomed at all. Give me a few months, and when I have all this moving as I want it to move, then you must come again, and let me have more time to show you the countryside.’ Not a word of his father’s death and his own recall to take over the household; such family concerns must not be inflicted upon girl guests. ‘I realise that you have made your own plans, too, of course. But you will at least have tomorrow? You need not leave until the next day?’
‘No, Wednesday morning we’d planned on moving,’ Larry agreed.
‘And at what hour ought you to set out?’ For the first time he smiled, a little self-consciously. ‘I’m sorry, that sounds terrible. I would be happy if you need not leave at all that day, but you see, my father’s lawyer is coming that morning to help me clear up all the affairs my father left in confusion. He was ill for some time before he died, though we never realised how ill, and things were a little neglected, not to mention a law-suit he had with a cousin over a plot of land lower down in the plain. That’s why I have been locking myself in his office all day and every day, trying to get everything sorted out for when the solicitor comes. I would like to arrange my meeting with him for an hour that won’t inconvenience you at all.’
‘We ought to make an early start,’ said Larry. ‘We have to drop the girls in Nagarcoil, and then go on to Cape Comorin. I think we should say seven in the morning.’
‘Then I shall arrange for Mr Das Gupta to come at eight. I shall send my car down to Koilpatti to fetch him, after you have left. He drives, but badly, and our road up here is not good, he will be glad to have transport. Now we need not think any more about departures. You have tomorrow, and we can do quite a lot with that.’ He looked across at Dominic. ‘You will come out with me and have a look at the set-up here? I should be grateful. I have some ideas, but you will know better than I if they are practicable.’
‘I’m only a herald for the Swami,’ Dominic said, ‘he’s coming down himself. as soon as he can. But naturally I was hoping to get a look at things while I’m here, and let him have an outline of what you have in mind. There’ll be a good deal of ground to cover?’
‘We can put in all day on it, easily. Perhaps we could borrow the Land-Rover for the day?’ He turned to flash a sudden engaging smile at Larry. ‘And Dominic tells me – he mentioned it on the telephone – that you are a civil engineer, and have been working on an irrigation scheme up north. Is that right?’
Larry admitted it, without bothering to add that he feared for his plan’s survival.
‘Then you’re just the man we want! Please come out with us. You see, further up here towards the hills we have a small river which is a tributary of the Vaipar, and centuries ago there was a whole system of tanks built down its course, with earth dams. They’ve been out of use and overgrown – oh, three hundred years, I’d guess – but I believe it wouldn’t be impossible to reconstruct the whole system. With earth dams they were a poor risk in the rains – if the top bund went, the whole lot went, that’s why they were abandoned. But it wouldn’t be so difficult, with a little capital, to put in a more durable system now on the same line. Come with us, and see!’
‘Sure I’ll come, glad to!’ And Larry would have been willing and ready to launch into a whole technical discussion of the water situation in Tamil Nadu, and the possibility of harnessing more of the rivers of Kerala, on the narrower, better-watered west of the Ghats, to irrigate the drier plains on the east; but Purushottam diverted the flow. It was necessary to make plans, but as briefly as possible. Tomorrow they could talk water, and rice, and terracing, and the mysterious ancient tanks of Malaikuppam, the whole day long. Tonight they must devote themselves to making the girls’ stay here pleasant.
‘And for you, Miss Galloway and Miss Madhavan, I think we can arrange something more interesting. I hope I have done the right thing. Dominic mentioned when he telephoned that you had originally intended going to Kuttalam. It’s less than forty miles from here, so why should you miss it? My car will take you there tomorrow, if you would like that, and Lakshman will take care of you while we are busy. In the evening we shall all be together again.’
‘It sounds perfect,’ said Patti dutifully. Too perfect, she thought, exchanging a glance with Priya, we’re being disposed of while the business men confer. And suddenly she would have liked to think of a way of piercing through that impregnable defence, that barrier of attentive politeness that fended them off so successfully and yet left them no ground for complaint. ‘I don’t suppose Inspector Raju would mind if we make a day-trip, Priya, do you?’
‘Inspector Raju?’ said Purushottam, drawing his fine black brows together in a frown of inquiry.
