[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
nudity.
I embarrassed him with my praise. And when he had left and the shoemaker come
to show me what he had done, I vowed to appoint Geoffrey Nesbit my permanent
lady s maid. Three offerings, all as comfortable as an old pair of moccasins;
one formal pumps, one sturdy oiled leather hiking boots, the other a close
facsimile of my leprous shoes, only in a deep and delicious shade of brown. He
had even brought a small leather handbag that matched the black pumps.
Page 102
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Riches.
I spent the evening trying on and gloating over my new wardrobe, and slipped
between my lavender-scented sheets with a smile on my face, while Holmes,
bundled against the cold, lay somewhere on the road west of Kalka.
First thing onMonday morning, the Goodhearts and most of the hotel staff were
gathered in the forecourt of the grandest hotel in Simla, overseeing the
loading of enormous quantities of luggage from door totongas. Why hadn t they
left the bulk of their things in Delhi, or shipped them ahead to await their
side-trip? But I didn t ask, merely offered to take one or two of the trunks
in mytongaand meet them at the railway station. I ended up with three, along
with four hat-boxes and a rolled carpet.
Similar activities at the Simla station made me glad that one of my trunks
had vanished into the Red Sea, and by the time we had gone through the same
rituals in Kalka, shifting to the larger-gauge train (Mrs Goodheart wouldn t
hear of allowing the porters to do it unsupervised one would swear she had the
Kohinoor amongst her bags), then twice in Umballa, from train to hotel in the
evening then back again the following morning, I was thoroughly sick of every
trunk, bag, and hat-box in the collection, and tempted to stand up with the
small bag holding my new clothes, comb, and tooth-brush, forswearing the
burdens of civilisation.
But the maharaja s own saloon coach had been sent down for our use, and an
appropriately princely train car it was, all sumptuous glitter and spotless
carpets, overhead fans and electric lights, its staff in spotless white and
wearing the red turban with white device I had seen on the docks in Bombay.
The car had its own baggage compartment, which meant that once we had picked
our way past the Umballa platform s sleeping bodies, which eerily resembled
corpses sheeted for burial, we were not required to oversee the shifting of
anything more complex than a tea cup for the rest of the day. I settled into
my armchair with a sable-lined travelling rug over my knees, and prepared to
be pampered. Mrs Goodheart, having spent the past twenty-four hours labouring
heroically to maintain Yankee order in the face of Oriental chaos, collapsed
onto a softly upholstered sofa, where she allowed Sunny to prop up her feet
and slip off her shoes under cover of her own fur rug. After a spate of
fussing, dabbing wrists and forehead with cool scented waters, and downing a
mighty slug of purely medicinal brandy, she retreated into sleep, her snores
rising and falling with the beat of the train over the tracks.
Sunny came to sit near me at the window, giving me an apologetic smile.
Your mother is finding India a challenge, I observed.
She s not used to letting other people do things for her.
I lowered my voice so that her brother, seated at the other end of the car
with a book, might not hear us. I d have thought your brother could help a
little more.
He s pretty preoccupied, she replied, which was both an agreement and an
excuse.
By what?
Oh, it s something to do with the maharaja. I don t really know, but Tommy s
hoping to get the maharaja interested in one of his pet projects. His backing,
Page 103
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
you know?
Ah. A business venture.
Not really. I think it s something to do with setting up a school in the
States. But like I said, I don t really know. Just that Tommy s got a lot of
hopes hanging on it.
Not altogether a social visit, then. I wondered if the maharaja was aware of
that.
We sat at the window, chatting idly, with the mountains looking over our
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]