The Plantation - Di Morrissey [18]
They exchanged a long glance and then Margaret nodded. ‘It sounds lovely.’ She was determined not to show him how sad she was at the thought of their imminent parting. She’d quickly learned that Roland was a no nonsense sort of a man who was uncomfortable around sentiment and emotions. She was determined not to be the sort of woman he’d referred to as ‘those teary little idiots who fall apart and get flustered at the smallest matter. I like strong women who are capable and who don’t make a fuss’.
Adelaide had debated with herself about going with them, but she didn’t like the smells of Colombo and had decided that the two were unlikely to come to any harm since Roland seemed familiar with the place. She would stay on board the ship.
Roland had hired a car and driver, as had several others from the ship, and they all headed to the ancient Sinhalese capital. In the cool hills their first stop was at the Temple of the Tooth, the name of which Margaret found amusing, until she saw the beautiful old carved temple set beside a lake and surrounded by dark green hills.
‘All this for a tooth relic?’
‘The Lord Buddha’s tooth, my dear,’ said Roland. ‘This is a very sacred place.’
‘Well, it’s certainly a beautiful setting. And the town is quite agreeable. Far fewer beggars.’
‘The last of the Sinhalese kings built Lake Bogambara from a paddy field in the early 1800s,’ said Roland. ‘Quite a feat. Jolly peaceful place, isn’t it.’
From the temple they went to the lake to watch the elephants and their handlers bathe in the water. After a light lunch at the elegant Queen’s Hotel, which impressed Margaret with its grandeur, they drove back to Colombo.
‘I’ll come back to the ship at sunset with a driver,’ Roland told Margaret.
Margaret watched him as he strode away, realising how much she was going to miss him.
She dressed with great care that evening, changing her mind several times before settling on a soft muslin print dress that, while demure, floated around her figure in alluring folds. She wished she had luxuriant hair like her sister Bette’s, but she pinned up her own, curling the front and sides in tight wisps in the manner of glamorous movie stars like Janet Gaynor and Jean Arthur.
Roland was waiting at the bottom of the gangplank dressed in a white dinner jacket and black trousers. The driver behind him held open the car door.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Margaret.
He took her hand. ‘Mount Lavinia. Dinner on the hotel terrace, which overlooks a very pretty beach.’
‘It sounds lovely. You know this place well.’
‘I’ve been here a few times. My father has several business acquaintances in Ceylon. Actually, that’s why I’ve had to disembark here, to meet with one of them who’s in tea.’
‘Oh, I see. Adelaide said to say goodbye from her.’
‘Could you tell her from me that it’s been a pleasure to have met her and I hope that the rest of her voyage is enjoyable.’ He held Margaret’s hand and kissed her fingertips. ‘I hope you will remember this evening.’
‘Oh, I will,’ she said.
Roland pointed out the sights of Colombo as they drove along the coast road, the leaning coconut palms etched against the molten sunset.
Margaret felt devastated. Roland was more than a shipboard dinner companion and dance partner. He was the most fascinating man she had ever met. She liked hearing him discuss the politics of the empire, the future of plantation commodities, the problems and disasters of the native staff, and the vicissitudes of cricket matches at ‘The Dog’ with the other men. Roland always seemed very knowledgeable and secure in his position in the fraternity of planters, civil servants, military and business people and he was certainly far more sophisticated than any other man who’d paid her attention.
Roland lifted his stengah and touched the edge of her champagne glass. ‘Here’s to meeting a very special young woman.’
‘I’ve so enjoyed meeting you too, Roland.’ She wanted to say more but