Tragic Magic

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The flowers that grew in such profusion now slowly withered away, but were soon replaced by trees and bushes flourishing in the heat. Nature was kind. On the table appeared mangoes, a delicious fruit I had not seen or tasted before. There were also the round sweet litchis with the faint flavour of roses and, as always, the health-giving papayas.

1 Jilmils: slatted shutters. 2 Chicks: hanging sun-blinds of laced bamboo strips.

The hot weather is not the best time to start up a family, but such surprises are not uncommon and are usually accepted with good grace as was our case.

Hamburg Earlier we had other ideas. Dennis's leave was due in a year's time. We planned to sail from Calcutta to where we hoped to buy a cheap car, see something of Ger many, Switzerland, France and go on to cross the Channel and tour through England to Scotland. One should never make plans too far ahead, never be certain, for there is always that little fairy with the evil eyes listening and saying, I'll show you!" - and it did.

We faced up to our problems most of which were financial. The Managing Agents who employed Dennis held certain rules. All keranis had to pay for their return fare to Scotland but at the same time received full salary during their leave. The assistants, on the other hand, had their return fare paid, but received only £15 per month during their leave. A mere ten years later every man, his wife and children had their passages paid with full pay at home. The original system can be described only as iniquitous. The times, however, were such that there was no option but to accept the rules in force. During the hungry Thirties, whether in India or in Britain, men were only too glad to hang on to their jobs.

As well as having to pay for the two passages we were now confronted with the fee for the doctor and charges on the nursing home. The expenses for having a child at home were considerably less than those in Calcutta. I remember the total of our expenses for our first baby was in the region of £25, which included not only the doctor's fee but the stay in one of the best nursing homes in Dundee. A modest sum such as this is beyond belief nowadays. We knew it would be a different story in Calcutta.

I had to go to Calcutta for a consultation with Colonel Gow, the renowned gynaecologist, who is still perhaps remembered by the women of my generation who lived in Calcutta and district and even in the tea plantations. A forthright Scotsman from Dundee he was often described as friend and mentor to all females young or old, all of whom he addressed as 'child'. A shrewd man, he had a very good idea of the salaries paid to Europeans in Calcutta and based his charges accordingly.

Well, child,' he announced, after our little talk together, 'you will have a fine Christmas present for your husband. It will arrive in early December. Come back and see me again in two months time. After some tentative inquiries as to his fee he told me the price would be Rs 400- or £30 - which was better than I expected.

For the next few months of the oppressive heat I rarely went up to Calcutta. Here in Lawrence, although isolated, the air was fresher with an occasional cool breeze to uplift the spirit. It was a better place to live in.

Calcutta has been described as the worst city in India. I am not in a position to make any comparisons as, with the exception of a few days in Bombay, I had never known any other city. My first impression of Calcutta with the wide streets, the open green expanse of the maidan and fine buildings, was favourable, but soon confronted by the spectacle of dire poverty, dirt and squalor, I was forced to change my mind. Worst of all was the sight of limbless beggars, the lepers, the blind, the woman hanging outside the market with a helpless infant in her arms which she deliberately nipped as she approached you, so that the pitiful wailing would arouse compassion. Whole families lived, ate and slept under the overhanging verandas of the wealthy owners living in some of the main streets.

How was it possible, I used to ask myself, that such horrors were allowed to go on in this day and age. 'Could not something be done to alleviate such wretchedness' I would inquire anxiously, only to hear the same reply: 'Nothing at all. In time, perhaps realizing that it was outwith the power of the ordinary European to abolish the shocking exploitation of human misery, the mind became blunted and accepted the status quo.

At the same time it has to be said that there were many Indian businessmen who fed daily, at their own expense, large numbers of the poor.

In May the temperature in Bengal rises to the point where it becomes difficult to bear such heat. Our bungalow, being single-storeyed and facing south, received the full blast of the sun's searing rays. I remember writing to my mother and saying, 'I am sitting in the lounge and slowly cooking to a turn." My kind neighbour, Jean, often invited me to come along to her house, which, being the lower flat of the married quarters, was very much cooler than our house. A respite of a few hours was always welcome.

Between our bungalow and the married quarters grew two handsome nim trees. During the hot weather these trees were covered by small star-shaped cream blossoms. The scent of these flowers is much favoured by Indians and the twigs are often used in the cleaning of teeth. I found the sickly sweet scent of these flowers revolting. The trees attracted clouds of black flies and the heavy smell pervading the house was nauseating.

Feeling I could not bear it any longer I appealed to Ron to request the manager to have these smelly trees cut down. My husband was appalled by such a proposition. 'Do you really think for one minute,' he rejoined, 'that I would ask the manager to remove those trees because my wife doesn't like the smell?'

Everything passes. Gradually, to my relief, the blos soms faded away and the tormenting smell vanished with them.

One morning our cook, with whom I got along quite well, left for what I suspected was a better proposition across the river.

Our bearer, Sofi Khan, set off for Calcutta to buy fresh food and if possible to bring back a new cook. I decided to open a tin of corned beef and add some boiled eggs. On finding that the stove in our cookhouse had not been lit, I went along to ask Jean's permission to boil my eggs in her cookhouse. Her cook happened to be in her house and took away the pot with the eggs. We remained chatting for some time and then having decided that the eggs must be ready we went down to the cookhouse.

Jean's dinner was cooking away on the stove, but there was no sign of my eggs. Some kind of intuition made Jean lift the lid of her soup pot and there bubbling merrily in the lentil soup were my eggs! She calmly removed the eggs and taking the pot outside emptied the contents on to the ground. Jean's husband, John, was deprived of his favourite soup that night.

In the evening Sofi Khan returned and introduced the new cook who produced a glowing reference from someone with whom he was supposed to have worked previously. Feeling a little uncertain I thought I would try him out and ordered a simple roasted chicken for our dinner the following evening. The bird was duly brought to the table. In the background the cook was watching eagerly. The moment of truth had arrived. I plunged the fork and fell back in horror having pulled out a part of the chicken's intestines. The man had removed only the feathers and roasted the bird complete with all the innards, legs and claws. He had never been a cook and never worked for any one as such. It was all too much! Ron rose from the table and the last I saw of my new cook was him sprinting along the path with Ron hot on his trail. He beat Ron to it at the gate and vanished never to be seen again.

That night there were more tins to be opened, more eggs to be boiled.

I promised myself there and then that come what may I had to have a small electric cooker before the arrival of our child so as to be completely independent of any cook if an emergency should arise. Luck favoured me. A few weeks later a cooker was provided and served me well for many years ahead.

Meanwhile I crossed over to Albion to see Mae in the hope that she might be able to solve my problem.