The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [100]
There were camels too, creatures that she could remember seeing as a child: long lines of them carrying enormous loads that jolted and swayed like bumboats in a choppy sea, high above the inevitable goats and cattle that were being herded from one village to the next. As they neared the outskirts of Nowshera the traffic thickened and the drivers of phaetons and tikka-gharis, tongas and ekkas, whipped up their ponies for a final burst of speed and raced each other into the town, scattering pedestrians like startled chickens and raising a smothering cloud of dust that set their passengers choking. The town was a small one with a dâk-bungalow that differed very little from a dozen others on the road, and it was not until Ash came to say goodbye that Belinda realized that this was where he must leave them.
He stood hat in hand in the late evening sunlight, gazing at her with his heart in his eyes and finding that it was impossible to say any of the things he had meant to say, because her parents were listening and it was plain to him from Mrs Harlowe's flustered manner and her husband's polite indifference that nothing had as yet been said on the subject of an engagement. In the circumstances he could only press Belinda's hand, and assure her that he would ride over to Peshawar at the first opportunity to give himself the pleasure of calling upon her. Mrs Harlowe said that they would be happy to see him; though not for a week or so, for what with all the unpacking… perhaps next month? and her husband said vaguely: ‘Of course, of course, adding that around Christmas most of the young fellows managed to get a few days' leave from their regiments and he dared say that Mr – er – er? would be able to do so too and must certainly look them up. Belinda blushed and murmured something to the effect that she hoped Mr Pelham-Martyn would be able to visit Peshawar long before Christmas, and at this point the driver of the Harlowes' ghari, who had been superintending a change of horses, announced that he was now ready to take the road.
Major Harlowe embarked his family once more, the doors slammed shut, a whip cracked and they were gone in a cloud of dust, leaving Ash standing in the roadway feeling depressed and inadequate and wishing that he had summoned up enough courage to kiss Belinda before them all and thereby force the issue. Mrs Harlowe's reference to ‘sometime next month’ had not been encouraging, but it was her husband's remark about ‘a few days’ leave at Christmas' that had given him a really disagreeable jolt, for he had looked forward to riding over to Peshawar within a day or two of his arrival, and until that moment it had not occurred to him that leave to do so might not be granted to a newly joined subaltern; or not unless he could give some particularly pressing reason for requesting it, and he could hardly discuss the subject of his engagement to Belinda with his Adjutant or the Commanding Officer before it had even been mentioned to her father. He could only hope that once Mrs Harlowe had explained matters to her husband, Major Harlowe might demand his presence in Peshawar, or else ride over himself to Mardan. But that would depend largely on his reception of the news, and Ash was suddenly a lot less confident that he would approve it.
‘The Regiment have sent a tonga,’ said Zarin, appearing abruptly at his side. ‘It will not take us all, so I told Gul Baz to hire a second for himself and Mahdoo, and they have gone on ahead with the baggage. The day grows late and there is more than ten koss to be covered before we see Mardan. Let us go.’
10
Night falls swiftly in the East, for there is no lingering dusk to soften the transition from daylight