Roll On October

A Book In A Month will return!

I'm going to attempt a murder mystery this year.

Here's a pictorial clue.

This years book can't be any worse than last years gay romance.

I'll try to enjoy the whole process as long as you do too.

: )

A Book In A Month - Chapter 31 - The Final Chapter

Every body makes it to Agra. Clara is both sad for her father and his need to shield her from her origins and furious with her father for shielding her from her origins. Keith is overwhelmed with the revelations about his mothers hideous past and the pivotal role John had in securing her safe entry into the UK and in the safe upbringing of her daughter. Jane wonders how John will feel about her and Clara sharing a bedroom, once he is appraised of the reason; and, Clara has insisted, he will be appraised of the situation. Dylis prays that she will not get caught in the father daughter cross fire and is concerned about the reaction of Clara to the romance that has blossomed between John and herself. And John; John simply hopes that he still has a daughter who is willing to call him dad after all the lies have been aired.

They all meet in the foyer of the hotel. They have the look of a peace delegation. No one is happy. The chill of the air conditioned lobby intensifying the frostiness. John, sitting bolt upright with his hands clasped tightly together in his lap and Dylis sitting demurely beside him with her right hand resting on his forearm. Clara quietly asks her father to tell her their family history. She makes it very clear that she knows every thing and is looking only to hear it from his own lips.

John looking down at his hands, begins with the bird book saying, “It's hard to believe that something as innocuous as a book about birds should bring down my house of cards. I really thought that we had got away with it. How wrong I was. Arrogant, that was always my problem” He sighed, with his head still lowered, he fumbled in his jacket pocket, but Dylis, being ahead of him, pushed a handkerchief into his hand. He wiped his eyes and without lifting his head went on. “I'm so sorry we brought all this on you, but we wanted a child so desperately and it never happened. When Simon wrote to say that Natasha had washed up on his doorstep in a desperate situation, well, we hatched a plan. We announced that we were expecting and I got time off work, compassionate leave. No pay, mind you, but it gave us the time we needed to get here, before Natasha gave birth. We were worried sick that she might have you early.” He made an effort to look at Clara, but his head barely moved, it was as if weighted down. “You arrived after we did, thank goodness. We had time to convince the locals that your, your, that Violet was expecting and I was lorded as the returning hero for wanting our child to be born in India.” He paused for a long while, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. Shaking his head slowly and speaking in a whisper he continued, The group leant in close in order to hear what he had to say. “ I don't know how to say this. I am truly sorry Clara, but your mother did not want you. It is true to say she wept as she handed you to my beautiful Violet, but she did not want you. She had lost so much, her entire family that she loved above every thing and there you were, the living embodiment of all that horror. She could never keep you. She feared you.” He stopped again to staunch the tears, blow his nose and acknowledge the comfort of the hand on his arm, “We loved you from the first moment we saw you. We would have died to help you. In that first instant you became everything to us. We were fascinated. We couldn't have been more besotted if we had made you ourselves. You became our daughter. We loved you so much.” John broke down sobbing, “We didn't want to lie, but we had no choice. You do see that, don't you? How could we tell you the truth? What could we leave in, or out?”

“Why didn't you take the chance when you bought the job-lot at the auction? You must have known straight away that it belonged to Simon. That's probably why you bought it.” Clara mumbled.

“I realised when you said whose topi it was. I was taken aback, naturally, but I knew that Natasha was local. Our paths never really crossed, but if they did, and no children were around, I, or your,” He faltered, “Violet, would update her about you. I had to pile lie on lie. Simon loved bird watching and wildlife, it was what kept him in India long after he should have come home. He loved nature and the open road and the chaos of this place. I had to alter that bloody map. I threw away my first attempt because it all matched up so perfectly. That was no surprise to me, but I couldn't let you see it. I had to stop you going any further with all this. You kept saying you were the end of the line. That there might be another branch of the family out there somewhere. Well you're not the end of the line, I am. When I go, we go, the Smiths die out. But your true family is a big one. Maybe you were right to seek the truth, it might make you happy to be part of a big family. After all this one's had it” He fell silent.

The dull buzz of the air conditioning drifted between them ready to carry the first word spoken out across the gaps to the suspended group. No word came. The buzzing swirled, eyes were fixed, staring into the middle distance.

“Can I bring you some more drinks?” the question made them all start out of their dream.

“That would be lovely,” Said Dylis, “Do you have Champagne?”

*

The taxi arrives and the 5 squash into it as the turban wearing driver holds open the door. Dylis is ecstatic that her dream is about to be realised. And holds Johns hand tightly. Clara sits on Janes lap and kisses her on the cheek. Keith grabs the seat next to the driver and they all hang on as the beaten up old car lurches into life to the sound of its horn.

Clara and Jane disgorge first and holding hands they wait for the others to join them. First Keith and then Dylis and John who are also holding hands. Dylis shakes Johns hand and nods, discreetly, towards the two girls. He looks shocked; so many secrets revealed. Perhaps it is his turn to be to be shaken to the core, but somehow, after all thay have been through today, it simply does not matter. The truth is unleashed, he still has a daughter, she has the family she always wished for and a partner she adores. Life may not be simple, John thought to himself, but sometimes we make it so much harder than needs be. Snapping to, John waves his walking stick, indicates the incline that is lined with brightly coloured stalls selling a range of small and glittering trinkets. They set off picking their way through the offerings, buying little things that catch their eye as they process towards the entrance to the Taj Mahal.

And there it is, at the end of a long, arrow straight leet, looming from the water, rising up into the flawless blue sky, shimmering, both solid and ghostly.

Standing before this hazy shrine to a lover, the five stare in silent wonder. Watching the two pairs of lovers he is with, as they hold hands in rhapsody, Keith feels very alone. Clara reaches out and draping her arm around his waist, she pulls him in close, and calls him, “Bruv.”

A Book In A Month - Chapter 30

The group headed back to Delhi for a couple of days of relaxation and research, before being picked up for their week of pure tourism looking at the delights of the Golden Triangle.

Clara and Keith were still numb from the revelations made by Keiths aunt, who it seemed, had guessed the truth about Clara the moment she had first cast eyes upon her and had been surprised that the group had not been aware of claras situation. Jane listened to her two friends confused and excited talk. There were so many questions left unanswered and the new step change in their relationship with each other was hard for them to grasp. Jane counselled them both, whilst, at the same time, she felt stuck in the middle of the situation and yet set apart. What had started as a holiday with a bit of a twist had become a life changing journey of epic proportions. They all felt the need for a bit of luxury after the rather seedy hotel they had used in Dhaka and booked themselves into a five star spa hotel, care of Keith and his wealth. He had insisted and had let his oldest sister know that, because he had gained another sister, he was about to push the boat out, and because she was bank rolling a large chunk of their holiday.

After the usual preamble, Keith had decided to go straight in with the announcement, “Rachel, we've discovered that we have a new sister. It's Clara.” The ripples of this last comment could be heard lapping at the shores of England in the vast silence that followed its utterance.

Eventually his sister spoke, “What did you just say? Keith?”

“Sister. I said sister. I. No. We have a sister.” Keith floundered.

“Well done Einstein,” Came the speedy response, “We both know that.”

“Don't make light of this Rachel, we really do have a new sister and she's sitting next to me right now.” Keith uttered the words slowly and quietly.

“How did we get another sister?” Rachel asked.

“You remember Clara, my colleague and friend who's here with me in India?” He did not wait for a response, but simply drew breath and blundered on. “It turned out that we're related. Not only that, but our lovely mum had a pretty terrible time before she came to the UK. She had a young family and a husband. They were all murdered. Then she had another child, Clara. Mum never spoke about any of this. I'm in a daze over it. Can't imagine how she felt having to keep these secrets.” He stopped, awaiting a response. There was none. “Hullo, Rachel, you still there?” He waited again, “Rachel,”

Rachel cleared her throat in an attempt to kick start her voice, “Yeh, Yeh,” Her distant, slow reaction paused for an uncomprehending moment, “Listen Keith, could you write it down and email it to me? Only, well, um, this is all a bit of a shock. Is that all right?

Keith and Rachel left their conversation at that point and he very quietly put down his mobile phone, “I've never known her to be lost for words. That's pretty shattering in itself.”

*

Keith spent the rest of the morning trying to compose an intelligent and yet gentle email to his sister; one that could be sent on to other family members. By the time the little group were due to go out and meet Simon Simpsons next door neighbour, the email had been sent. The facts of the story, as far as they knew them, were out there. The bomb, if indeed it was a bomb, had been primed.

The jumped into the first tuk tuk to career to a chaotic halt and began the fairly long journey to the other side of the city to meet Simons' elderly neighbour and, hopefully, interview him.

Having been ushered into the spacious and airy bungalow by a vibrantly dressed young woman, the three visitors settled into their allocated seats and awaited the arrival of Mr Kumar. Following the firsts sounds of him, it took several minutes for him to appear, as he shuffled from the outer reaches of his home, towards his living room. He was austerely clothed in white, had leather flip flops on his naked feet and was thin, stooped with age and supported on the arm of the young woman. They both looked as light as birds.

Like many people in their late nineties, Mr Kumar was particularly deaf, with a faint, wavering voice that belied his still acutely sharp mind. He ordered 'refreshments' and, looking over the tops of his finger tips that were held in a prayer position in front of his chin, asked the group how he could be of help to them. Naturally they chose not to tell Mr Kumar the whole story, rather to concentrate on their original quest; could he remember when John and Violet came to India to have their baby. He said he could. The little group of friends were thrilled, he could tell. They wanted to know what he knew, every detail.

“It was a a while ago, and I have forgotten most of it, but I remember young Violet coming to India to have her baby. She was heavily pregnant. English ladies always look very pregnant, of course, but your mother, Clara, was big enough to be carrying twins. We thought that was what she might have. It was the talk of the club, you know.” Said Mr Kumar and then went on, “We did not see very much of Violet during her stay, she was confined early you know. John was very sociable. He often came to the club. Violet was very well looked after by the maid.”

Keith had to know, he could not resist asking, “Mr Kumar, can you remember the maid at all?”

“Of course. I remember her because she was the daughter of a previous maid who went back to her family. Bangladesh, she went to Bangladesh. It was the Eastern area of Pakistan then. She looked quite like her mother. Now the names? Let me think. They were a Christian family, Anglo Indians.” He trailed off in thought, looked up at the group and said, “You look like her. My eye sight is not very good, but, I can see there is a surprising likeness. I can not remember the name of the daughter, but the mother who went back to her family, she was Mary.”

Keith pushed on, “Could her daughter have been called Natasha?” He asked gently.

The old man leant forward, pointed a grizzled finger at Keith and said playfully, “Of course, of course it was. Yes, Natasha. She arrived when all the trouble started in East Pakistan. She was frightened, Simon said she had been through a terrible ordeal, lost her family, was destitute, was seeking safety and work. Naturally he took her in.”

“Can you recall when she arrived?” Keith asked, the two girls listened intently.

He shook his head, “No not exactly, but it would have been several months before your mother arrived. Simon was on his own with only a man servant, for several years after Vida died. Then there was Natasha, and quite soon afterwards John and Violet. He had a house full of voices. Then the baby arrived. Then everyone left, except the manservant and Simon. We all returned to our normal lives.”

“I'm sorry, but are you saying that Natasha, John and Violet all left Simons house at the same time?” Keith asked incredulously.

Mr Kumar drew a slow breath and sat back in his chair to sip his tea, “yes.” He said very simply, at length.

Keith also sipped his tea and took a bite from a sweet, “One last question, Mr Kumar, can you recall where Natasha was going when she left here?”

Mr Kumar frowned lightly as if trying to pull the past forward from a long forgotten, dark space at the back of his brain. “I thought she went with John and Violet. They went to England and she went with them, as a maid? Is that not correct?” He looed at Keith and then the two girls. They looked back blankly, “But, I could be wrong.”

They made small talk after that, about Clara being Simons grand daughter and her life in the UK and how Keith was Natashas son. Naturally Mr Kumar was surprised that Clara should socialise with the son of her servant. They passed the situation off as common in the UK for different classes to mix as they had.

*

Once safely nestled in their hotel they gathered in Keiths room with icy beers. Keith was in no doubt at all that Natasha was his half sister. To him it was obvious and rather wonderful. To Clara it was nothing other than a problem. How would she approach this with her father? Even though she had raised the matter with him, she was not sure what to expect when they were due to meet in Agra the following week.

Keith, chatted on, thinking out loud and said to Clara, “You know, it may not be a coincidence that we met. It was my mum who insisted we lived near you, if you see what I mean. She even made dad turn down offers of promotion, because it meant moving away. I think she wanted to be near you. And it was her idea I take the therapy room in your practice. I remember she said something along the lines that it could change my life.”

Clara snapped back, “Well she got that right.”

“Didn't she just.” He grinned back at her, “And I couldn't be happier.”

“It's odd really,” Jane added, “Surely your mum would have been concerned that if you two met, the whole story would come out?”

“What were the chances of us uncovering all this. If it wasn't for your need, Clara, to trace your family tree, then we wouldn't've got here. And I would never have started looking into my history until my mum had passed away.”

“I guess, it was your idea that we come to India, and even then only because we both had family ties here that we wanted to look into. None of that felt odd to me, just a nice coincidence.” Clara said.

Keith wanted to know one last little thing, “The Natasha fixation. Where did that come from?”

Clara began to tell him all about the box from the auction. She explained that her father bought it for the bird book, and how cross she had been to find he had stuffed another lot of old junk into his tiny flat. But then they discovered Simon Simpsons name in the tatty topi and that made them curious. Natashas name had been on the tiny note in a pearl box.

Keith was stunned, “Why didn't you mention any of this to me?”

Jane cut in, “I assumed you knew. We had tried all ways to find a Natasha in Claras family and, of course, we drew a blank.”

“That's right,” Clara added, “You got yourself involved with our little hunt after the Natasha thing was over. By the time you came on the scene, we were looking at Simons work records and had given up, totally, on Natasha. We only wanted his work records so that we could comparethem to the bird book.”

Keith was astounded, “How come I never made the link between your bird book and Simon Simpson? God, I must be thick.”

“Did you know anything about Simon Simpson?” Asked Jane.

Keith shook his head, “Not really. It sort of rang a bell, but we only saw the stuff we put in the box after mums passing. We had a look through it, of course, but no more than a glance. I must have seen the name, but,” He paused, pained at remembering having to go through all his mothers private documents and possessions, “No one wanted those things, so they went off to auction as mum had requested in her will. All unwanted items had to be sold and the money split between us kids. We would've rather it went to a charity shop, but that wasn't what she wanted.” He stopped talking once more and no one spoke to fill the void. “Strange isn't it how things turn out?” He added in order to wipe away the silence.

*

John and Cynthia had finalised their travel plans for India. They had had partial vaccinations which the doctor told them was the best she could do given their short notice. They would she felt, be covered for the shrt stay they planned, but she recommended that they finish their course once they came home. In that way they would be prepared for a future trip. They both found this amusing. At Johns great age, he was lucky to be alive to take this trip. There was little chance that he would be alive long enough to take another one.

They had to organise themselves, their trip to the airport was booked, clothing folded and packed, paperwork, packed but to hand, a mini drug store, first aid kit and dental repair kit was assembled. They were ready. A couple of days in Dheli and then on to Agra, followed by the Red Fort. Dylis was in planning heaven, after two weeks of internet research on the delights that India had to offer.

In a couple of days they would be leaving, by then the 3 would be at the red fort, prior to going on to Agra. They would all meet up in Agra, go their separate ways for a few days and then meet up and fly home together. John was terrified of Claras feelings towards him and nothing Dylis could do, or say, calmed him. He did not want to go in equal and opposite measure to her excitement at the prospect of the journey.

A Book In A Month - Chapter 29

“It's as if we keep going over the same ground for the sake of it,” Jane mutters as she writes out the dates of Simons stays in the hotel. The other two have a hotel register each, and they turn the big pages looking for those names for the third time. “I wish we'd noted them down last time.”

Clara glanced up, leaving her finger resting at the point on the page she would restart from, “We didn't need to, we were looking for a co-relation between that bird book and my grand dad and there was one, it was slim, but it was there. We weren't looking for anything else. This Mary Simpson was no more than a lover. It may have been a surprise to find there was life in the old dog, but now, now she may be someone related to Keith. We'll need to have these dates written down when we go back to your Aunts, so we can refer t them. We didn't need them before.”

“Pretty boring all the same.” Jane added as she called over a waiter. “Three beers please.” She demanded and pressed on with their task.

A few beers later and they were finished, in more ways than one. Keith decided to call his aunt to arrange another visit. He explained, carefully, that they wanted to check over a few more dates as they had not made accurate notes. He was relieved that she was still happy to go over the family tree with them again. He had assumed that she would be bored with it by now, but no, she stall had the boards up in her huge living room and had added a few more dates since they were last there. Sadly there were no more images as these were from four and five generations back. Keith was excited at the news and arranged for them all to visit the next morning. His aunt offered to lay on a breakfast feast. It would be another family party, which was something she excelled in.

The little group headed out to find food in a local restaurant. There are so many in the town they thought it would be possible to stay for a year or two and not eat in the same place twice. They took a note book with them with the intention of listing the details they wanted to check in the morning. It became quite a long list. They sat on the bench seat at a plastic topped table, talking above the hubbub and clatter of the starkly lit restaurant as they waited for a waiter to come along with the menus.

“We don't need to let my aunt know what we're looking at here.” Keith paused and looked at the girls who were on either side of him, “ I think we should play it cool.”

“What would they think if they got wind of all this?” Clara asked.

“I don't know, your guess is as good as mine.” Keith said, “But we do know they all think my granny was a slapper. I'm not sure how they'd feel about a gay addition to the family.”

“There's no real chance we're related,” said Clara, “No matter how hard you look, you wont find a link, but if it makes you two happy, I'll go along with it.

The waiter wandered over to give out the menus and to take their drinks order. He was straight back with tall glasses of icy beers that dripped with condensation.

“God, they look good,” Jane said as she raised hers to her lips and took a long draught. “Now then,” She licked the wet beer from her top lip, “Let's work out what we want to know about your family, Keith, before we're too full of food and tipsy to apply ourselves.” She rummaged in her super sized handbag and took out her note book and pen.

*

Bright and early the next morning the three friends got into the taxi driven by their personal driver. He chatted away about how wealthy everyone from Britain was and how lucky Keith was to have such an important relative as his aunt. The girls were fascinated as Keith had avoided discussing his aunts source of wealth, and this was their chance to learn a little more. The driver did not need much encouragement to tell all that he knew. Keith squirmed as the man crowed about this 'fine lady'.

Keiths aunt owned a large textile factory. It produced beautiful sari fabrics, the best. He could never afford them for his daughters dowries, or wedding. They were very grand, with embroidery in fine metal wire, gold and silver and bejewelled with semi precious stones. Sometimes they had rubies, sapphires and diamonds embroidered all over them. There were many girls working for her in a huge factory. Often Keiths aunty was seen on the TV talking about business matters, and raising Bangladesh’s' profile in the world as a top producer of luxury goods. There was talk about her running for parliament, but it could never happen, according to the driver, because she was a Christian, which defined her as a person apart.

By the time they had covered the relatively short distance to the imposing block of flats, the girls knew as much as Keith about the source of his aunts wealth. She was a clever woman who might work things out about the two families if given enough information. They all knew they should be discreet about Claras known history, in case there was a skeleton hiding in a cupboard.

The aunt was very thrilled to have them come along to see her again. She thought that they would call in before they left for their site seeing tour. This extra visit meant, to her, that they had a depth of interest in her family, which was wonderful to her. She ushered them out onto the terrace, which overlooked the city. It was exotically planted with large banana trees and bamboos. Overhead a pergola covered in a climbing plant that his aunt said was very poisonous and called Derris, offered shade over the table.

“Let's eat,” His aunt called out as she clapped her hands twice to call her servant. He looked out at the gathering and promptly disappeared. When he returned, moments later, it was with a team of immaculately presented girls who carried trays of food and plates. As fast as they had appeared, they were gone. “I'm sure we can look after ourselves over a breakfast?” The aunt said as she gestured to the group to tuck in.

Keith apologised for taking up more of his aunts time, “It's very kind of you to see us again and to entertain us. I can't help feeling we are being rather a nuisance.”

“Not at all. My dear, I've so enjoyed your company. It's been both a refreshing change and a revelation.” His aunt smiled at him, took his hand and said, “You know, your grand mother would be very proud t know you. She was not a good woman, but here you are a joy to meet.”

“I'm not sure what to say to that,” Keith laughed.

His aunt took him by the hand, “Come along, every one, let's retire to the living room, and take another look at our family.”

They trooped into the vast space making a beeline for the display boards. Once again, Jane dug deep into her handbag and extricated her pen and note book. Carefully, she peeled back each page, licking her sweating thumb as she did so. “Ah, yes, here we are,” she said as she handed the book to Keith who looked down the page.

“The are a few things I think I missed out last time I was here. It's not much, but I know I'll regret going home without filling in these gaps. My sisters will be hoping for a full picture of our family history too. I can't thank you enough for your generosity aunty.” He said as he turned his attention to the boards.

Jane joined him as Clara chatted with Keiths aunt about life in the UK. Most of the missing dates were gathered in. “Now, aunty, there are a few bits and pieces you could help me with.” Keith paused to acknowledge his aunts acquiescence and then pressed on, “Firstly, can you remember when grand mother Mary was away in Dehli?”

Keiths aunt frowned, not in irritation at hearing Mary's name, but in thought. “Oh, now let me see. I can remember that it was around about the time of the Second World War. She went for quite a number of years and came back with your mother just before partition. Natasha would have been about six or maybe seven years old then and was such a pretty little thing. In fact she was so pretty I often think her grandfather would have forgiven her, though I'm not sure he would have ever forgiven Mary.” She paused and Jane scribbled down notes veraciously, not wanting to miss a single detail.

“Can you remember when, exactly Mary left?” Jane asked as she wrote.

“I can remember the argument. It was awful. I thought our father was going to kill her. He had found out about her boyfriend. It turned out that someone at the lodge knew her boyfriend and our father and introduced them to each other. He introduced the topic of taking a lover, in the way men do so that they can look like rascals to their friends. Her boyfriend walked right into the trap and told our father all about his wonderful 'Dhaka Darling'. It was all good, until Mary's name was mentioned. Only her first name, but our father was no fool. He knew what was going on, his friend was warning him about Marys behaviour in a way that he would believe.” Keiths aunt stopped for a moment and looked at Clara, shook her head, “Ah, you look so much like her, it makes my heart break to think what she must have gone through. She left that night with a small suitcase. Mary packed as our father was yelling in the lounge. She was so scared. I kept asking her what was happening, I was not much more than a toddler, but I can remember it as if it was yesterday. It's my earliest memory and one of my worst. She climbed out of our bedroom window and was gone. I didn't see her for over ten years. By then I was old enough to understand what had happened and I had Natasha to play with. We were like sisters. Similar ages.”

“ Aunty, can you remember the name of Marys' boyfriend, Natashas father?” Keith asked. He shot a glance at Clara.

“Of course I can. Although I never met the man, I can tell you he stood by Mary and Natasha, as best he could, for a married man. He was able to get money to them, even after partition. They were not poor. I think that's why mother had Mary back. In those days, with partition, we were outsiders, as Christians, that is. Money helped buy friends in high places. Sometimes I think that's all that kept us infidels from being killed.”

Keith looked at his aunt gently and Jane, holding her pen poised, cut in gently, “Marys' boyfriend?

You were going to tell us his name?” She tapped the pen quietly on the pad to emphasise her need to write down this nugget of information.

“Of course, how silly of me, I wandered off the subject somewhat. Old age is a terrible thing.” Paused, in thought, Keiths aunt looked at them all with a rye smile, “Clara, I want you to sit her, in front of me.” Clara did as the aunt asked. The aunt took both of Claras hands in her own and looked deeply into her eyes. “Do you really want to know this name Clara.”

Claras lip trembled and the dam of tears overflowed as she silently nodded. Keiths aunt reached out and pulled a tissue from an expensive handbag on the floor near her seat. She shook the folds from it and pressed it into Claras free hand. Reaching out, the aunt touched Claras face and whispered, “It's as if you have come back to me after all these years. I knew who you were the moment I first saw you. Can I ask, how long you have known?”

Keith stepped in quickly saying, “She didn't know, still doesn't. None of us know. It wasn't until we got here, to Dhaka, that we began to wonder at the coincidences. There were so many of them. Of course, like you, when I first met Clara I thought she looked like my mum. My sisters thought so too, but then Clara isn't Asian at all, are you?”

Clara shrugged her shoulders and shook her head at the same time.

“Well aunty, what was his name. It could be that all these coincidences are just that, coincidences. But we need to know.”

Keiths aunt sighed, “Simon. His name was Simon. And his last name was Simpson. It is just as you suspected. You are half siblings, I guess.”

*

John used Dylis' help to Email Clara to say they were intending to come out to India and meet them there. If that was all right with them. They had tickets for the next week and needed to know where to go to link up and what hotel to stay in.

Clara Emailed back to saying that it would be good to see her father and Dylis, but that there would be a lot to discuss. Did he know a woman called Natasha by any chance? Was there something big he needed to get off his chest?

Dylis was surprised at Claras response, as she tutored John in the dark art of opening his emails, “What is she getting at John? I don't want to walk into a family row on my holiday.”

“It could be a bit tricky, but I'm sure it'll be all right,” He told Dylis and together they composed a reply that said that he would discuss it all when he got to India.

Dylis asked John, “What did Clara mean by her message?

He said simply, “I think she's found out that she's adopted.”

A Book In A Month - Chapter 28

“Hey Jane, what was the name of Simons girlfriend here?” Asked Keith as they sat in the hotel lobby reading the daily papers and drinking tea.

Jane looked up dreamily and fanned herself with the sports section of her paper, “Hm. Sorry, I was miles away.” A s the dusty, bone dry breeze, wafted in a strong odour of heat and decay through the heavy lobby doors. “What were you saying Keith?”

“Simons girlfriend, what was her name?” He repeated.

Jane leant down and rummaged through her copious hand bag that rested at her feet, eventually she pulled out her notebook. “Let me see,” she said as calmly as she could muster, not daring to look towards Clara who was sitting in the roomy leather sofa next to her. Jane flicked back through her notes, knowing the name perfectly well, but playing for time.. “Erm, Mary. Mary Simpson.” She said.

Simon retorted with an “Hmm, I thought so. Just needed to check before I put my big foot tin it.” He said.

“Go on,” Jane prompted, she knew what was coming, and she suspected Clara did too.

“This last week has been a real eye opener for me. I can't get my head around having 6 siblings. Dead siblings. And they were never mentioned. I'm sure dad had no idea about mums past. Perhaps it's a good thing he died before her. She must have been scared all the time that someone would find out.” Keith said.

“It's hard to bear guilt. I can't imagine how she was able to. Your mum must have been a strong woman.” Jane said reassuringly, in her best psychoanalysts tone.

“What had she to feel guilty about. She did no wrong. Honestly Jane, you do come out with some rot at times.” Keith blurted out.

“She survived and they didn't. People in those circumstances often experience guilt. It's a very common reaction. I didn't mean to upset you Keith.” Janes tone was even and soothing.

“No. It's me. I can't get my head around all this. One minute I had a loving mum who lived in England, married an English man and they had four kids. The next moment my mum's leading a second life. A lie. She's gone through all that trauma and carried on as if nothing ever happened.” He fell silent.

“Many people go through life quite normally, despite having come through horrendous circumstances. We are amazing creatures, we can heal ourselves, or we hide the pain from ourselves and our friends and family. Either way, for these people, life goes on.” Jane stopped and left the words hanging, ready for Keith to step into the void created.

“It's not just that. It's all this other stuff. There have been coincidences piling up on top of coincidences. My grand mother for one. Her name was Mary. Simons partner here in Dhaka went by the name of Mary Simpson. That was a bit of a surprise and it ran on from us,” He looked at Jane and Clara, “discovering that your grand dad spent quite a lot of time here in Dhaka.”

Clara put her newspaper down onto her knees and looked cooly at Keith. “Go on.” She said.

Keith cleared his throat, “I'm only running this past you. I'm in such a muddle at the moment I don't know what to make of anything any more, but I do know there's more to this than coincidence,” He looked at the other two once again and they nodded their approval for him to continue. “We all know that my grandma Mary gave birth to my mum Natasha who found her way to the UK and wound up living very close to you Clara. I know it could be a big coincidence, but to me it's a bit odd.”

“You think that's odd.” Jane cut in, “I got involved in this family history malarkey because Clara was trying to find out about someone called Natasha. She thought she might be something to do with her family. We couldn't find any trace of a Natasha though, could we?”

Clara was frowning, “There was nothing to link Natasha to us, and boy did we try. We gave up on that one.”

“I'm confused, why were you searching for a Natasha in your family history?” Keith asked.

“Because dad and I found something belonging to her in a box in his flat. He didn't recognise the name, so I said I'd look into her.” Clara shrugged, “He thought I was wasting my time and guess he was right.”

“OK then, that was a red herring, but, if you ask me,” Keith addressed his questioning to Clara, “Your dad lied to you about your grand mothers date of death for a reason. Why would your mum and dad go all the way to India to give birth?”

“Who knows? All I know is you're right, there is stuff that doesn't add up and there are coincidences. Trouble is, it doesn't amount to a hill-o-beans.” Was all Clara had to say on the matter. She picked up her tea and took a draught.

“Then there's the Delhi Dhaka connection with both families.” Keith trailed off.

Jane stopped fanning herself for a moment, sat up from her slumped position and said, “I'll tell you what, we've got another day or two here, why don't we double check dates?”

“Dates?” Clara asked.

“Yes dates.” Jane was excited about her inspiration. “Keith, you're fizzing with ideas and Clara, you think there's nothing in it. You think it's all a coincidence. But, what if it isn't. What if Keith's right and there is a link of some kind between the two families? We could compare some of your families dates, Clara, against some of Mary and Natashas.”

Clara looked uncertain, We could, but it would be a lot of work, wouldn't it?”

“We should cherry pick dates that interest us. The key dates in each families lives. Like the dates of birth of Mary and Natasha. The date that Natasha left Dhaka.” She looked at the others for a sign of approval.

Keith nodded slowly, “I was going to say, what harm could it do?” He smiled ruefully.

“Why not. If we don't turn these stones we will always wonder about all this.” Clara chipped in.

*

Dylis has made up her mind, she and John were going to India and not in the dim and distant future. For them, it was to be a journey to meet up with Clara and her friends. No matter how many times John said that he was not keen to go, Dylis steam rollered him towards her goal of agreeing to go.

The chance to see some of the famous sights that India had to offer was exciting to Dylis. To John, they were old hat. He was too old for long haul flight, all those changes and that sitting in a cramped aeroplane seat. The thought filled him with dread. Then there was the insurance, he would never get cover at his age. He would need to be vaccinated and get a visa; so would she. There would be too much to do and too little time. He was old and did not have the energy that Dylis displayed. It was all right for Dylis, she was a spring chicken when compared to him.

None of the misgivings outlined by John deterred Dylis. They could organise the insurances on line, as part of his course. The same for booking the flights. It would be easy. The main thing, she said, was to get the visas and vaccinations organised with out delay. She set about researching her fastest options on the latter two tasks online.

John was still very dubious about the idea, but was unable to convince Dylis that he really did not want to go.

Dylis was a woman who never took no for an answer and this was not an exception.

A Book In A Month - Chapter 27

The three spent a few more days in Dhaka. With the help of Keiths extended family they were able to build up more of the family tree. Jane and Clara recorded all the details and took photos of the photos, and copied the name tags for each person. By the end of their third visit they had images for four generations and names for another two. Keith was overwhelmed and thanked Clara for spurring him on to find out more, even though it had turned out that he was from bastard stock.

The three decide that as relations with Keiths family was now so good, that they should take a chance and ask Keiths family for more detail about his mothers reasons for leaving India and about her lost family and her hatred of the country. A little more information about Natasha mother would be helpful too. They had a name for her and the two facts, she was unmarried and a mother, a rare combination in India. Who was this man that she was so in love with and why did they never marry? These outlines he had been given had left many gaps and only served to whet his appetite for more information. He needed the voids to be filled with hard facts, and only the Indian side of his family could do this. Already he had been told that Natasha had left almost as soon as Bangladesh was formed, following the uprising which they had said was a brutal, murderous time in their countries history. As Christians, the family were particularly victimised. Natashas' husband and all of her children were murdered and she was 'violated'. Naturally her desire was to get as far away from Bangladesh as she could. Eventually they received a letter from Dheli saying that she was in safe hands and then, nothing, until Keiths arrival almost a year ago. It had been a branch of the family that had brought 3 generations of shame.

Keith asked incredulously, “Where did she go in Delhi and how did she get to the UK?” Now suddenly, Delhi was in the mix. The family had not mentioned it before. In all the excitement of building up the family tree, they had glossed over the details of peoples lives; important details. With only a few days to go before the little group headed away on their site seeing journey, Keith urged his relatives to help him understand his mothers life.

An aged aunt, Natashas sister, who had travelled nearly 200 miles, to meet Keith, from her home, carrying with her her family shots, said with huge bitterness, “She went off to her fathers bungalow, of course. That man would never give her up. He brought great shame on us. He thought money could put right everything. Typical English with their arrogant ways.”

Shocked to the core Keith croaked, “Her father was English?” He felt sick. This family had not been as open with him as he had thought.

Sneering, his old aunt retorted, “Of course he was. Did you think an Indian would behave in such a shameful way?”

Keith was incredulous, but held on to an even tone as he stated simply, “But you're Anglo Indians, we all are, present company accepted,” He looked at Jane and Clara. “Why would having an English father be so shameful?”

Why? Why? You understand nothing. You sit there looking Indian, but dressed like a westerner. You don't think like us. You have no morals, no values. That man ruined Marys life. She should have married the boy we had chosen for her. He would have been a good provider, from an excellent family. We had to pay the dowry, but we kept the bride. The whole town laughed at us, taunted us for our decadence. To them we were British. British! She was thrown out, of course, and off she ran to that man. My God if I had ever seen him I would have killed him dead, as God is my witness. He had no right to to …. bring shame to our family. No right at all.” She looked at the gathered group.

Keith was hold on tight to his voice, and with great calm posed the question he was dreading putting. He could tell that the elderly woman was about to explode. This was clearly something she had needed to get off her chest for a long time “Can I ask, what was the man called that caused you so much trouble?

“What was his name? How would I know such a thing?” She sounded savage.

“ Surely Natasha or her mother would have mentioned his name?” he urged very gently.

“We never talked of it, any of it. Why would we want to know of him. Death was all I wanted for him. Death.” She hissed.

“Surely happiness is important and a British partner would be acceptable?” Keith added naively.

“Never. We're Bangladeshi and don't you ever forget it.” She snapped back. “There are no Anglo Indians any more. The British left us here to rot and went scuttling back to dear old Blighty. And they never looked back.” She waggled a finger at the three holiday makers. “We don't have partners, we don't have lovers, we have good Indian husbands. That is how it should have been and that man ruined everything for us. Three generations blighted. People still talk of our shame today. It will never leave us. And you wonder why I feel such anger?”

“Did Natashas father go back to England and take her with him?' Keith pressed, “Is that how she got there?”

”Your mother was disgrace, even her father did not want to have her around, as far as we could tell. She stayed there a while, a few months at the most, and then went to the UK. And no, her father did not escort her to England, he stayed on in Delhi, all alone. As far as I know he never left. He'll be dead now, of course. He was very old when Natasha came along, at least fifty. I hope he rots in hell.” She snapped her fingers and a servant materialised, “Tea. Now.” She commanded in what appeared to be her normal abrupt tone. Turning her attention back onto Keith, she oozed sweetness and said, “Less of this bleak talk. Tell me Keith about your family in Blighty. Are you married, children?” She was like a hawk, homing in on her prey. Clara and Jane winced. It would be their turn soon.

*

John and Dylis had fallen into a second routine; the first one being their daily coffee and lunch break together when they were both at the college. Their second routine was to share an evening meal together every evening. Dylis, was, not surprisingly, a great cook; he was hungry. It was a perfect combination. She was happy to eat the meals that Clara had pre-cooked for John before she had gone away on holiday. They were really rather good and even better once Dylis had spent a little time adding a few embellishments. The more they chat, the more Dylis realises that John is concerned about the safety of Clara out in India. When pressed he says, “There's a lot of things to see and do there. For a young woman, it can be a dangerous place.” The longer Clara is away, Dylis observes, the more worried John becomes. She begins to develop a plan.

A Book In A Month - Chapter 26

Here they were, in Dhaka, back in their seedy hotel, having been wined and dined in high style at Keiths aunts fabulous home.

“If your family isn't well off, simply comfortable, I'd like to see how the rest of India lives. I mean to say, all we see around us is poverty.” Clara mused, “Your aunt is not poor.” She fell into silence, feeling, somehow that she had been cheated. Cheated out of meeting a genuine Indian family, having, instead to hob nob with these aristocrats who made her feel insubordinate. They were a welcoming group, on the whole, but became edgy when Keith asked about his mother, which he was bound to do. It had to be accepted that his mother had come through a dreadful ordeal with remarkable fortitude, but to the extended family that she had left behind, there had been a feeling of bereavement that they had only recently been able to confront. For Keith it was devastating news. His mother had lost her husband and children and she had been raped. How could he come to terms with that? “Keith, are you OK about all this?” She looked at him. He had said very little since his aunts revelations.

“Sort of numb. How could my mum be so normal, well balanced, happy. Yes, that's what she was, Happy. I don't think she had the right to be happy; to erase the memory of her dead family. It doesn't make any sense to me.”

“We are complicated beings, who are born to survive no matter what. I guess that's what your mum did, she survived. She got as far away from the danger as she could, became a different person in a very different country to India and started all over again.” Jane said. “Like a lot of people who have been through a war situation, she probably chose never to speak about it again, If nobody knew what she'd been through, why would they ever bring it up? That helped her stay emotionally safe.”

“Fair play, Jane, you make it all sound straight forward. Surely Natasha would have gone stark raving mad after what she went through?” Said Clara rather insensitively.

“Thanks girls, but right now, I'm sorry to say that you're not helping. I need to let this sink in.” Keith stood up and left Clara and Janes room. “See you at dinner was all he muttered as he pulled the door to.

*

The next visit to the penthouse apartment had allowed enough time for Keith to adjust to the news about his mothers life before leaving for England. He was no longer numb, now he had become frazzled by the welter of emotion and noise in his near bursting head. He had been meditating to help himself through these dark days, but found his powers of concentration constantly under attack from the random frantic thoughts he was generating. He realised he was becoming manic. Mad. He had told the girls that he had to get through this day and then he would need time to himself to heal. Clara and Jane could see that he was distressed and agreed that time out was what they all needed. They suggested that he postpone today at his aunts,. He could say he had a stomach upset, that could buy him anything from a day to a couple of weeks. The trouble with that idea, in Keiths opinion, was that his aunt would send around some fancy doctor to cure him. Then he would be seen as a liar.

No, it was decided that they would have to go, as arranged and then take a breather. Which was why they found themselves amongst Keiths family in the huge living room, overlooking the teaming city of Dhaka.

Their host and her less well off sister had transferred the photos and postit notes to a large display board , one of a set of four that had been purchased especially. The board was the type used at the smarter conferences with a covering of dark blue, fuzzy fabric and brushed aluminium frame and a box of sticky backed velcro discs. They were ready to attach anything they wanted to the boards.

The first thing, how ever, was to eat. They sat for lunch, four courses, with wine. They made small talk, about England and their families there and about India and life in general. After an hour and a half they were ready to continue their quest to complete the family tree. The snaps were brought back out of pockets, bags and folders. They finished Keiths mothers generation fairly quickly, with no fresh, or upsetting revelations. They next turned their attention on to his Grandmothers generation. The mood darkened, again as various couples were placed above their branches of the family. Keith asked what the problem was. He wanted to know what was going on. He could sense growing aggression at his questioning. There was something wrong. As more images were posted, it became clear that no one had an image of his grandfather. He was surprised at this and suggested that they write the chaps name on a postit and stick it where his picture should be, just as they had done with other members of the family. The suggestion was greeted with silence and sideways glances.

There was no husband for his grand mother. In India, even for Anglo Indians, this was a definite no no. His grand mother had made the terrible mistake of falling in love with a man. Unfortunately for her and her family he was not the man she was promised to. That was a terrible thing. It brought great shame upon the family. Her lover would not, could not, marry her as he already had a wife. She refused to marry the man chosen for her. He was a very honourable man. It bought great shame on his family.

She left this family to live with her man. She was not allowed to stay. It would be the same today. Later she had a child. She and the child were welcomed back just before partition. Her father had died by then and her mother had missed her, but by all accounts it was a very uneasy truce. The aunt implied that money had changed hands and it was this that had greased the wheels of diplomacy. Her lovers wife had wanted to come back to him and his company didn't approve of his domestic situation with his lover. She had to go. Partition separated them for along time.

*

John and Dylis met for coffee. They have become confidantes. Seeing each others homes has made them closer. They found that they had much in common, from their similar taste in décor to their loss of partners to cancer. Dylis asked John about their first few encounters. She wondered why he was so rude to her. After a lengthy debate, they came to the conclusion that he had become wary of women. His reticence had been the scourge of his later life, despite loving women, he had also begun to resent them for the pain he had felt at losing his lovely wife. He said he had been forced to live a lie. Dylis is surprised that he expressed his feelings in such a way. “Hating women, if it was heart felt, surely was not living a lie?” she reassured him, “It was more of a reaction to his situation. Nothing to get so dramatic about.”

John passed the statement of as a joke, saying “The lie was stuff like not being allowed to fart aloud, in public.” they both laugh at this, but Dylis suspected that there was a tinge of truth about the living a lie part of their conversation. She moves the subject onto India and John relaxes again into his normal self.