Mourning Raga.

by Ellis Peters.

I.

The whole affair began, as the unexpected and chaotic so often did, with Tossa's mother. And as usual, on the telephone.

Tossa's mother was herself unexpected and chaotic, though contained in as neat and trim a package as you could wish, slim and brown and perennially young, even after three marriages and two widowhoods. She had begun life indeed, she still continued it, with unflagging verve and success as Chloe Bliss, a perfect name for the stage though it also happened to be her own by the grace of fate; had been in succession Chloe Barber, until Tossa's professor father inconsiderately died in his charming prime, Chloe Terrell, until the infinitely less interesting and less suitable Herbert Terrell fell off a mountain in Slovakia and got the worst of it in the consequent collision with a slab of white trias limestone, and Chloe Newcombe, which after two years, rather surprisingly, she still was. Perhaps Paul Newcombe, on the face of it a depressingly solid and stolid type of business manipulator, was more durable than he looked; perhaps, even, there was more to him than met the eye. If he was to hold Chloe's vagrant interest much longer there would certainly need to be.

The enchanting creature who was such a problem to her husbands was no less a headache to her daughter, with the rueful difference that there was only one daughter, and she could never shuck off the load on to a successor. It was late now for Chloe to produce a co-custodian, even if she did still look no more than thirty. In lieu of a son she had cheerfully set up a stake in a prospective son-in-law. In any case, Chloe could never resist putting on her maximum charm for any young man who was drawn into her orbit. Usually they succ.u.mbed; in Dominic Felse's case she was content to play it as a delicious game, and close her devastating purple-brown eyes to the consideration of whether she was winning or losing. After all, Miss Theodosia Barber was her daughter, and in her complex and evasive heart Chloe had a natural love for her, and even better a very healthy and wary respect.

They were in Tossa's rooms in a genteelly decaying corner of north Oxford when the call came through, and Dominic's recently-acquired third-hand Mini was sitting at the kerb outside, waiting to take them down for the Christmas vacation. They were looking forward to a peaceful celebration in the bosom of his family, and privately congratulating themselves on the fact that Chloe was frantically filming, well behind schedule, somewhere in Somerset, and hardly likely to give a thought to her daughter's activities while the panic lasted. Conscience prompted her to manifest mother-love from time to time, with an over-exuberance which was designed to make up for the long neglects in between; but conscience knew better than to interfere with business. Consequently the maternal interludes usually came when they could do the most devastating damage to Tossa's plans, and none whatsoever to Chloe's.

The phone rang in the hall below. Across the case on which Dominic was kneeling they looked sharply and speculatively at each other. Dominic's left eyebrow elevated itself dubiously. He said: 'Uh-huh!' in a tone Tossa was inclined to resent, though she herself frequently said very much more on the same subject.

'It may not be for me,' she said, convincing n.o.body.

But it was for her. Her landlady's voice called up to her with the promptness of a derisive echo, and she went down resignedly to fend off the inevitable. Distant and guarded, gruffer than usual with defensive tension, her miniature baritone eddied up the staircase: 'Tossa Barber here Oh, yes... hullo, Mother! How are you? How is the shooting going?' Side-track her back into her proper sphere, that was the strategy; but Chloe could always talk twice as sweetly and three times as fast. 'Yes, well, darling, you know we were going up to Midshire...'

Were going! Dominic stopped wrestling with the recalcitrant lock of Tossa's big case, and conveyed himself across the room and halfway down the stairs in a hurry, to a position where he could sit and brood balefully over the conversation, and make entirely sure that his interests were not forgotten. Every time she raised her eyes she could not help but see him, shamelessly listening and willing her to harden her heart. Chloe had a particularly annoying way of erupting just when they were all set for a holiday. going! Dominic stopped wrestling with the recalcitrant lock of Tossa's big case, and conveyed himself across the room and halfway down the stairs in a hurry, to a position where he could sit and brood balefully over the conversation, and make entirely sure that his interests were not forgotten. Every time she raised her eyes she could not help but see him, shamelessly listening and willing her to harden her heart. Chloe had a particularly annoying way of erupting just when they were all set for a holiday.

Computing the total content of a telephone conversation from one end of it, and the pa.s.sive end at that, is never easy. With a kingfisher mind like Chloe's at the far end of the line it was next door to impossible.

'Yes, I remember you said she had... terribly interesting! Oh, really! Well, but what can I...' A long interval of the distant purring, while Tossa's eyes took on a stunned and glazed look first of shock and then of total non-comprehension. Something fearful was going on. Dominic loomed threateningly, and she flashed him a helpless glance and shook her head at him to show she hadn't forgotten everything they had arranged between them. 'Where? But... No, but you're serious? I... well, of course I do see how marvellous, but... So far far! And I'd be scared, alone! Oh!... Oooohh!' she breathed in a long, awakening sigh, and a gleam came to life, far behind the gla.s.sy astonishment of her eyes, and grew and grew, like a moonrise. A hint of excited colour flicked her cheeks. Drat the girl, she was falling for it, whatever it it was, after all her years of experience with that infuriating, lovely mother of hers. Dominic shuffled his feet and cleared his throat menacingly, and Tossa looked up and smiled at him with the eerie bliss of a sleepwalker. 'But would she really... for was, after all her years of experience with that infuriating, lovely mother of hers. Dominic shuffled his feet and cleared his throat menacingly, and Tossa looked up and smiled at him with the eerie bliss of a sleepwalker. 'But would she really... for both both of us? Well, of course, I do realise it's a once-in-a-lifetime chance... But, gosh, Mother, I don't know! I of us? Well, of course, I do realise it's a once-in-a-lifetime chance... But, gosh, Mother, I don't know! I would would love to... I bet he would, too... Look, let me talk to him and call you back...' love to... I bet he would, too... Look, let me talk to him and call you back...'

'Yes,' said Dominic grimly, just too quietly to be heard at the other end, 'you do that! Get her off there and give me me a chance to get some sense into you. a chance to get some sense into you. That Chloe That Chloe!'

'A quarter of an hour, Mother, yes, I promise. Give me that number again...'

She cradled the receiver and came drifting up the stairs muttering it to herself, and Dominic gave her his ball-pen to write it down, before she lost herself among the digits. She looked a little drunk, on what manner of intoxicant he couldn't imagine. She She was usually the one who had all the evasions ready when Chloe sent out distress signals. She, after all, could be as cynical as she liked about her own mother; Dominic knew better than to venture on the same terms. He had an instinct for the exact line where his privilege ran out, and he was light on his feet, and could always stop short of it. He took her by the hand and towed her back into her own room. Her knees gave under her; she sat down dreamily on the bed, staring through him into the pale December sky. was usually the one who had all the evasions ready when Chloe sent out distress signals. She, after all, could be as cynical as she liked about her own mother; Dominic knew better than to venture on the same terms. He had an instinct for the exact line where his privilege ran out, and he was light on his feet, and could always stop short of it. He took her by the hand and towed her back into her own room. Her knees gave under her; she sat down dreamily on the bed, staring through him into the pale December sky.

'Now, look, we were going to my parents in Comerford, remember?' Help, she'd got him talking in the wrong tense now! 'We are going!'

'Yes, of course! I haven't forgotten anything. If you say so, when you know... if they they say so, that's where we're going. I wouldn't ditch them for anybody in the world. You know that. But wait till I tell you what she offered us...' say so, that's where we're going. I wouldn't ditch them for anybody in the world. You know that. But wait till I tell you what she offered us...'

'Us!' Yes, give her that, Tossa had made sure that he was included.

'It isn't what you think, she doesn't want us to go to her for Christmas! Not a thought of it! She's totally taken up with this film, all they'll do about Christmas is throw a party right there on the set, and get as high as kites, and then go right back to work. That's the stage they're at, I've seen it all before. No, this is something that only happens once. That's why I didn't just say no. I couldn't couldn't! I mean, with only one lifetime, and money not all that easy to come by... Well, what would you you have said?' she challenged warmly. have said?' she challenged warmly.

'How do I know, until I know what you're talking about? What does does she want us to do?' she want us to do?'

'She wants us,' said Tossa, her voice growing faint with mingled wonder and disbelief, 'to take a little girl to India.'

Dominic sat down abruptly on the suitcase and the stubborn lock, as if electing itself a sign and portent for the occasion, clicked smugly into place, ready for off. Though it wasn't as simple as that; for India, at this time of year, you'd want... what? Not the winter casuals of workaday Oxford, at any rate. Cottons? Light sweaters? Good lord, what was happening? He was taking it seriously, and it could only be some sort of mistake, or somebody's idea of an elaborate joke. He sat staring at her warily, and pushed resolutely out of his mind visions of temples and royal palms, and the legendary beach at Kovalam, and...

'You did say "India"? And you're sure that's what she she said?' said?'

'I asked her again. She said it twice. She said "Delhi", too. There isn't any mistake.'

'And both both of us can go?' of us can go?'

'She said so. I said I'd be scared alone.' That was a useful formula, and he knew it; what it meant was: 'Not without Dominic!' and he was duly grateful for it. There were many things of which Tossa was wary and suspicious, after her experiences with parents and step-parents, but very few of which she was scared.

'All expenses paid?' That was how it had sounded.

'Money's no object.'

'But whose whose money?' The only little girl Chloe had was sitting there on the edge of the bed, staring at him with eyes so wide in wonder that the highlights in them soared into silvery domes like the Taj Mahal. And in any case Chloe spent her money as fast as she earned it, not to mention making formidable inroads into her husband's as well. money?' The only little girl Chloe had was sitting there on the edge of the bed, staring at him with eyes so wide in wonder that the highlights in them soared into silvery domes like the Taj Mahal. And in any case Chloe spent her money as fast as she earned it, not to mention making formidable inroads into her husband's as well.

'Dorette Lester's. It's her little girl we're supposed to escort to Delhi.'

'Who's Dorette Lester?' demanded Dominic, unaware of his blasphemy. Only Julie Andrews shed more sweetness and light, but then, the few films he did see never seemed to be that kind of film.

'She's the American star they brought over to play Marianne in this film Chloe's making. I told you. Everybody thought they'd fight like tigresses, and they fell into each other's arms on first sight, and have been as thick as thieves ever since. That's how it comes that Chloe's willing to lend me to help out Dorette over the kid. She wants us to drive down to Bath and hear all about it, and get fixed up about dates and everything. I suppose we could do that much, anyhow, couldn't we?'

'Today? Now?'

She nodded. The scintillation of desire, fever-white, was still in her eyes. You don't get offered India on a salver every day. 'We can still say no, if we want to.' But she didn't want to, and neither did he. Not if this was on the level. They eyed each other thoughtfully, still chary of believing in such luck.

'There has to be a catch in it,' said Dominic firmly.

She didn't argue; she knew her mother even better than he did, and it was a reasonable a.s.sumption that they would trip over a string or two sooner or later. 'It would have to be a big one to tip the scale much, wouldn't it?' she said honestly.

Dominic got up and hoisted the suitcase on which he had been sitting. The coy lock held, ready for any journey. 'You'd better call her back, hadn't you,' he said, rather as if it had been his idea all along, 'and tell her we're coming.'

Some youthful genius from down in the boutique belt, who hatched outrageous ideas on the side and sold them in much the same way as he did outrageous clothes, had come up with the improbable inspiration of making a big musical out of Sense and Sensibility Sense and Sensibility, and with his usual luck had found suckers all round him ready to buy the notion that Jane was with it. He had besides and it was his chief a.s.set a gift for concocting elegantly dry, agreeable and piquant music, so witty that it turned the most ba.n.a.l lyrics into epigrams, and it was an even bet that the film he had conned his less well-read contemporaries into making would turn out to be not merely a box-office bonanza, but also a surprisingly good film. They had gone the whole hog on casting it. Most of the money in the venture was American, and the producers had insisted on getting Dorette Lester to play Marianne, the 'sensibility' half of the two sisters. The English director, with equal certainty, had declared that no one but Chloe Bliss would do for Eleanor. Chloe's daughter might have c.o.c.ked a quizzical eyebrow at the idea of her mother standing for 'sense', but it was what she could suggest before the cameras that mattered, not what she really was, and before the cameras or an audience there was nothing Chloe could not be, from an electrifying Ariel in The Tempest The Tempest to an awe-inspiring grande dame in Wilde. Musicals were something new for her, but she took to the form like a duck to water. She sang the outrageously clever songs of the boy genius, half-pop, half-avant-garde, with such conviction that even the composer was startled. He had never taken them all that seriously himself. What he did was juggle the notes and words around a little, and the money came rolling in. He had never ceased to find it funny, but was a little unnerved when he found it could also be moving. to an awe-inspiring grande dame in Wilde. Musicals were something new for her, but she took to the form like a duck to water. She sang the outrageously clever songs of the boy genius, half-pop, half-avant-garde, with such conviction that even the composer was startled. He had never taken them all that seriously himself. What he did was juggle the notes and words around a little, and the money came rolling in. He had never ceased to find it funny, but was a little unnerved when he found it could also be moving.

One of those ladies hired to play the youthful Dashwood sisters was turned forty, and the other was thirty-six, and there were plenty of genuine teen-age actresses to be found, what with half the pop singers taking to the boards or the screen or both as to the manner born; yet n.o.body seemed to find the casting at all strange. Only a year ago Chloe Bliss had added a superlative Peter Pan to her repertoire. And as for Dorette Lester, one of her most pa.s.sionate admirers had once said that she couldn't sing, couldn't dance, couldn't really do very much in the acting line, and didn't have to; just looking at her was enough. But if she had to act, it had better be in some such part as the hypersensitive and emotional Marianne Dashwood, where over-acting, controlled by an intelligent director, wouldn't show.

Dorette had been married in her early twenties, before she became a star. Tossa told Dominic all about it, or as much as she herself had gleaned from Chloe's thumbnail sketch, on the way down to Somerset in the Mini.

'The way I see it, she can't have been much then, and apparently he was rich, and must have been no end of a catch. A couple of years later, and she probably wouldn't have looked at him. He was a graduate from the University of the Punjab; doing post-graduate work in research physics and chemistry over in the States. Anyhow, she married him. And they had this little girl. And then things clicked into place, the way they do at the wrong moment, and she made a hit and grew into a star. And I suppose she got very busy and involved with her job, and he was just as busy with his, and maybe they were too far apart ever to make a go of it. Anyhow, they didn't. She divorced him years ago, and gave herself wholly to her career. And he went back to India, and presumably devoted himself to his.'

'And the little girl,' said Dominic, after a pause for reflection, and in a tone of some wonder, 'is now about to be shipped off after him?'

'That's the way it looks.' And she added doubtfully: 'Maybe just for a visit?' Dominic said nothing to that; he didn't think so, either. 'Well, it seems she's getting married again. Dorette, I mean. Maybe he doesn't react too well to the idea of a ready-made daughter nearly fourteen years old.'

'Or maybe she thinks he won't. I don't suppose she's ever asked him. Or asked the kid what she she thinks about it.' A possible catch was beginning to appear, and he couldn't help wondering what they were getting themselves into. Still, if the case was as he was beginning to suppose, it could be argued that the little girl would be better off with her father. Or hadn't he wanted her, either? He seemed to have let her go without too much of a fight, and put the width of the world between them. thinks about it.' A possible catch was beginning to appear, and he couldn't help wondering what they were getting themselves into. Still, if the case was as he was beginning to suppose, it could be argued that the little girl would be better off with her father. Or hadn't he wanted her, either? He seemed to have let her go without too much of a fight, and put the width of the world between them.

'Still,' said Tossa, mind-reading beside him, 'we shall have to go on and take a look at the whole set-up now, I've committed us to that. We can always back out if we don't like the look of it.'

She looked at Dominic warily along her shoulder; there was something in the acute care he was suddenly giving to his driving, and the look of almost painful detachment on his face, that told her he had found himself abruptly reminded how delicate might be the ground on which they were treading. For Tossa also was the child of an egocentric actress, and her early years also had been bedevilled by her mother's remarriages and haunted by her mother's wit, charm and success, which left her seedling only shady ground in which to grow. He needn't have worried, Tossa was very well able, by this time, to make good her right to a place in the sun. The amiable conflict between mother and daughter was fought on equal terms these days, and as long as Dominic was on her side Tossa had the secure feeling that she was winning. Still, all experience remains there in the memory to be drawn upon at need.

'When you come to think of it,' said Tossa practically, 'I might be just the right person for this job. If the kid is going to be flown off to her father in any case, it might as well be with somebody who's been in much the same boat, and knows the language.' And somebody else, she thought, but did not say, who's never had parent trouble in his life, and doesn't know how lucky he is, but manages to rub off some of the luck on to other people even without realising it.

'It might, at that,' agreed Dominic, cheered. 'Anyhow, let's go and see.'

By which time they were close to the turn that led to the Somerset studio, and the issue was as good as decided.

The Misses Eleanor and Marianne Dashwood sat side by side on a flimsy, gilded, Empire sofa like twin empresses receiving homage, pretty as new paint and something more than content with each other. 'Thick as thieves,' Tossa had said, but in this white, gold and pale blue elegance it seemed an inadmissibly crude phrase even though the white and gold was gimcrack when you came close to it, and stopped abruptly twenty feet away, to give place to the hollow, cluttered chaos of any other sound stage, littered with skeleton fragments of booms and wiring and cameras and lighting equipment, and a miscellaneous a.s.sortment of frayed, bearded, distrait people carrying improbable things and using improbable words in several languages. 'Cheek by jowl' suggested itself, Dominic thought, in some underhand way, but could hardly be entertained in face of Eleanor's resolute and shapely little chin and Marianne's damask-rose cheek. In view of the late-Empire ball gowns of Indian muslin, the daintily deployed curls, dark brown and scintillating gold, and the white silk mittens that stopped only just short of the creamy shoulders, better settle for hand-in-glove. As sure as fate, that was what they were; and anyone around here who had plans that involved manipulating these two Dresden deities had better watch out, because he would be playing a formidable team.

It was an earnest of their sheer professionalism that even between takes they continued to look in character, Chloe gently grave and cool and exceedingly well-bred, Dorette sparkling and distressed by turns, as extrovert as a fountain. Neither of them put her feet up or lit a cigarette. They sat with one foot delicately tucked behind the other, to show a glimpse of a pretty ankle, as young ladies were taught to sit once, long before the miniskirt and the glorious freedom of tights. Dominic revised a half-conceived notion of what Dorette must be like; she might not be a gifted actress, but she was an intelligent diplomat who could make what gifts she had do just as well.

And talk! She could talk the hind leg off a donkey!

'... and then, you see, Tossa - Oh, forgive me! May I call you Tossa? You see, I feel I know you already, your mother has talked so much about you. And you're so like like her, did you know that?' Tossa knew it, and could hardly fail to be flattered by it, even though she often looked in the gla.s.s to find the homely, rea.s.suring outlines of her father's face, less obviously but just as surely there behind the delicate flesh, and the straight, bright, luminous gleam of fun in the eyes that could only have come from him. '...and then, his family made it quite impossible, you know. Oh, Satyavan was simply the new India in person, travelled, educated, sophisticated, brilliant and already rich in his own right... he had a company making beautiful cosmetics, and another one running travel agencies all over the east and the Middle East. The family were rupee millionaires even before him, but that was all in textiles, cottons and silks, and they really looked down on anything else. An old family, too, and these Punjabis are very proud. So her, did you know that?' Tossa knew it, and could hardly fail to be flattered by it, even though she often looked in the gla.s.s to find the homely, rea.s.suring outlines of her father's face, less obviously but just as surely there behind the delicate flesh, and the straight, bright, luminous gleam of fun in the eyes that could only have come from him. '...and then, his family made it quite impossible, you know. Oh, Satyavan was simply the new India in person, travelled, educated, sophisticated, brilliant and already rich in his own right... he had a company making beautiful cosmetics, and another one running travel agencies all over the east and the Middle East. The family were rupee millionaires even before him, but that was all in textiles, cottons and silks, and they really looked down on anything else. An old family, too, and these Punjabis are very proud. So I I was the undesirable one, you see. His mother was broken-hearted when he married me. She'd been widowed for two years then, and Satyavan was the only child, and of course, you know, was the undesirable one, you see. His mother was broken-hearted when he married me. She'd been widowed for two years then, and Satyavan was the only child, and of course, you know, sons... Hindu sons... Hindu sons... Sometimes I think that if only Anjli had been a boy... But she wasn't, and then there weren't any more children.' She wiped away, discreetly and with great dignity, a non-existent tear. 'Really we never had a chance to bridge the gulf. And it sons... Sometimes I think that if only Anjli had been a boy... But she wasn't, and then there weren't any more children.' She wiped away, discreetly and with great dignity, a non-existent tear. 'Really we never had a chance to bridge the gulf. And it is is a a real real gulf, one would need a lot of patience, and love, and craft... and luck! And luck we didn't have.' gulf, one would need a lot of patience, and love, and craft... and luck! And luck we didn't have.'

Dominic hedged his bet still more cautiously. Only a very clever woman would have used the word 'craft' just there. Moreover, Chloe, delicately fanning, her wide eyes on her fictional sister with all the critical admiration of a second watching his expert princ.i.p.al in a duel (and without any qualms whatsoever about the outcome), had raised one eyebrow with a connoisseur's approbation, and the corners of her very charming and very knowing mouth had curled into an infinitesimal and brief smile of pleasure. What chance had any husband with women like these?

'And he didn't even try to get custody of Anjli?' Tossa had seen the omens, too, and reacted with a blunt and discordant question; simply, thought Dominic, to see what would happen.

Dorette's damask cheek bloomed into the most delicious peach colour, and again faded to the waxen white perfection of magnolias. Dominic was fascinated. The magicians of the world would go grey overnight, worrying how she did that in full view of her audience, at a range of a few feet, and in harsh film lighting.

'Tossa, you must be charitable, you must understand... Poor Satyavan, you mustn't think he didn't love her...' (Or why, thought Dominic ruthlessly, would you be shoving her off on to him now, you being the loving mother you are?) 'Yes, he did try... indeed he tried very hard. But you see, at that time we were so bitter, both of us. And I fought just as hard. Perhaps it was simply that I was American... for after all, there is an understanding, don't you think so?... of one's own people? They gave her to me. That was all that mattered then. I didn't think of him... of his mother... To an Indian woman sons and grandsons are everything, but even a granddaughter would be such joy... But it's only afterwards that one realises the cost to other people. You mustn't think I haven't thought about this for a long time, and gone through agony. All these years, ever since she was six years old. I've had the joy of her, and he... My poor Satyavan...' She made a little poem out of the name this time, the first 'a' muted to a throw-away sound almost like V, the second a long sigh of 'aaah'! Her wisp of an embroidered Jane Austen handkerchief came into brief, subdued play. No doubt about it, Dorette was an artist.

Tossa's dry little, gruff little voice said: 'Yes, I do see, he must have missed her terribly!' But Chloe's undisturbed smile said serenely that Dorette was doing very well, and could afford to hold her fire. Perhaps she even read her daughter's implacable motives; whatever the doubts about Dorette's brain, now rapidly being revised, there had never been any doubts about Chloe's. Dominic held his peace, and saw the Taj Mahal clear as in a vision.

'Tossa, there's a time even to give up what one wants and needs, a time to remember... not other people's wants and needs, but theirs theirs. The children's.' Dorette turned her head and gave them the benefit of her full blue stare, radiant and dazzling; and her beauty, of which they had heard so much and thought so little, was absurd, agonising, irresistible. They understood her power, and being immune to it made no difference when the rest of the world was vulnerable. She looked eighteen, agitated, appealing, Marianne to the life. The Austen irony was missing, perhaps, but this was between takes. 'She has a whole family there, wanting and longing for an heir. She has a kingdom kingdom, you might say. What right have I to keep her from it? What can I give her to make up for it? In America she is just one little girl, not nearly a princess. And my husband...' She looked momentarily doubtful about that word, but shouldered it and went on: 'He has rights, too. She knows nothing of the world he he can offer her, and she has a right to know everything before she makes a choice. When I marry again...' Oh, n.o.ble, that brave lift of her head, facing the whole world's censure for love! Or money. Or can offer her, and she has a right to know everything before she makes a choice. When I marry again...' Oh, n.o.ble, that brave lift of her head, facing the whole world's censure for love! Or money. Or something something! '...she will be watching us from a cool distance, I know that. She knows who her father was, she knows he is far away, and almost lost to her. I want to be honest with her! I want her to go to her father!'

A pale person in an unravelling pullover and a green eyeshade leaned through the pump-room palms and called: 'Any time, Dorrie!' and Miss Lester, switching from emotion and sincerity to a note of sharp practicality which Tossa found almost insulting, called back in quite a different tone: 'Coming, Lennie! Give us three minutes more!' and as promptly returned to character. As though Chloe's two student stand-ins for a New England governess who declined to cross the world had been a couple of cameras trained on her. No more sales-talk was necessary, Chloe's brief, rea.s.suring glance had told her they were sold already; still, for her reputation's sake she kept up the performance in a modified form and at an accelerated tempo.

'My husband is expecting his daughter. I wrote to him a month ago, before I left the States, to tell him that she would be coming. He will be so happy to see her, and so grateful to you.'

For one brief and uncharacteristic moment she looked back, remembering a thin, fastidious face set in the tension of distaste and disbelief as he argued his case in court, with the dignity he was incapable of laying aside, and which had pa.s.sed for arrogance and coldness. He could hardly be expected to compete with such an artist in 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 k.u.mar just in case of any contretemps. There will be no difficulty, you'll see. And of course, all 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.' 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 k.u.mars.

'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 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 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 k.u.mar 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 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. 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 Tossa, dear...'

'Yes, Miss Lester... Yes, of course we'll take her!'

'Darling... so grateful... my mind at rest now... Sure, Lennie, coming 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 this one's contracting out, so one's contracting out, so somebody 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.' 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 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, 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 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 s.p.a.ce 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 a.s.sembled 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sport control. Dorette swooped ahead in a cloud of pastel mink and subtle fragrance.

'Darling! Oh, honey, how lovely lovely to see you!' 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 keen, you know that? It's just a dream 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 pa.s.sed 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.'

So this was the poor little girl! Little she was, in the physical sense, well below average height for a fourteen-year-old, and built of such fine and fragile bones that she contrived to seem smaller than she was. She wore a curly fun-fur coat in a mini-length, and a small round fur cap to match, in dappled shades of tortoisesh.e.l.l, like a harlequin cat. Her long, slim legs were cased in honeycomb lace tights and flexible red leather boots that stopped just short of her knee, and the honey of her skin glowed golden through the comb. A fur shoulder-bag slung on a red strap completed the outfit. But the accessories of her person were every bit as interesting. Her fingernails were manicured into a slightly exaggerated length, and painted in a pink pearl colour, deeper at the tips. The shape of her lips had been quite artfully and delicately accentuated and their colour deepened to a warm rosy gold. A thick braid of silky black hair hung down to her waist, a red ribbon plaited into it. Half her face was concealed behind the largest b.u.t.terfly-rimmed dark gla.s.ses Dominic had ever seen; but the part of her that showed, cheeks and chin, was smooth and beautifully shaped as an Indian ivory carving, and almost as ageless. Sophistication in one miniature package stared up at Dominic unnervingly through the smoke-grey lenses. The obscurity of this view suddenly irked her. She put up her free hand in a candid gesture of impatience, and plucked off her gla.s.ses to take a longer, clearer, more daunting look at him.

The transformation was dazzling. Thin, arched brows, very firm and forthright, came into view, and huge, solemn, liquid dark eyes; and the face was suddenly a child's face as well as a mini-model's, eager, critical and curious; and presently, with hardly a change in one line of it, greedy. No other word for it.

She was at the right age to wish to be in love, and to be able to fall in love almost deliberately, wherever a suitable object offered. Dominic was a suitable object. He saw himself reflected in the unwavering eyes, at once an idol for worship and a prey marked down.

Over Anjli's head he caught Tossa's eye, marvellously meaningful in a wooden face. They understood each other perfectly. No need to look any farther for the catch; they had found it.