hand.’
Yes, thought Grace, sharply, and look what a mess I made. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
‘Why do I have to be there when he visits?’ complained Jacob, who had planned to work overtime. ‘I don’t have anything to say to him.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Jacob,’ Aloysius replied, annoyed, ‘show some family solidarity, will you?’
The day after Alicia’s graduation the newspapers were full of reviews of her performance. Her talent, her youth, her future, all these things were suddenly of interest. Already she had been offered two concerts.
‘Beethoven and Mozart,’ she said, in a panic, ‘all in a month. How will I learn them?’
The de Silvas were staggered. Overnight, Alicia had become something of a celebrity. A photographer came to the house and her picture appeared in a music magazine. The family felt as though they were seeing her for the first time. And suddenly there was an admirer as well. Two more weeks went by. Sunil Pereira came to call. He had thought of nothing else but Alicia since the concert. He waited, impatient for the visit, a prey to Ranjith Pieris’s teasing. He hardly slept, dreaming constantly about her.
‘Go and see them, men,’ Ranjith teased. ‘Put yourself out of your misery, or I’ll have to!’
So, plucking up his courage, unprepared for his meeting with her, much less her eccentric colonial family, he went.
Let loose at this first encounter, the de Silvas reacted each in their different ways.
‘Hello, Sunil,’ said Thornton, shaking hands with him, smiling in a new and dazzling way. It was clear he needed to do nothing else. ‘Why don’t you come with us to the party at the Skyline Hotel next week? There’s supposed to be an extremely good jazz quartet playing.’
Ah, yes, why not? thought Myrtle. Why not show off in our usual fashion?
Christopher, resigned and silent as always, saw no point in getting annoyed with his family. They were completely crazy. Any friends of theirs were bound to be crazy too. What am I doing here? he thought. I don’t belong.
‘Where do your parents live, Sunil?’ asked Grace tactfully, thinking, first things first. A few discreet enquiries never went amiss. Earlier that day she had discussed Sunil with Vijay. Lying in his arms, she had told Vijay about their first encounter.
‘He has an open, friendly face,’ she had said.
Seeing him again, she felt she had been right. The young man seemed unaffected and honest.
‘My father worked for the railways,’ Sunil told them. ‘He was killed in the riots of ’47: Now my mother lives in Dondra.’
He hesitated. Would a family such as this have heard about the riots in ’47? Grace nodded, encouragingly. Of course she remembered.
‘He was crushed in an accident,’ Sunil said. His father, he told them, had been working his shift at the time. He had not been part of the riots but in the skirmish that followed he had been trampled to death. ‘My mother couldn’t get her widow’s pension because it was thought my father had taken part in the demonstration. She should have taken the matterto a tribunal but, well…’ He spread his hands out expressively.
Alicia was listening. There was not a trace of bitterness in Sunil’s voice. In the silence that followed, Grace read between the lines. She had heard how terrible things had been, how many people had been killed. Sunil’s childhood would have been very hard as a direct result. Being a Sinhalese woman, Sunil’s mother would have been ignored by the British. She would have had no idea how to get any compensation. Aloysius nodded. One brown face, he guessed, would have been the same as any other. Aloysius was unusually silent. The talk turned to other things. To Sunil’s political ambitions for the new country they were building. Good God, thought Aloysius astonished, I must be growing old. This boy’s optimism is so refreshing.
‘Our only way forward is through education,’ Sunil told Alicia, earnestly.
Yes, thought Grace, sharply, and look what a mess I made. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
‘Why do I have to be there when he visits?’ complained Jacob, who had planned to work overtime. ‘I don’t have anything to say to him.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Jacob,’ Aloysius replied, annoyed, ‘show some family solidarity, will you?’
The day after Alicia’s graduation the newspapers were full of reviews of her performance. Her talent, her youth, her future, all these things were suddenly of interest. Already she had been offered two concerts.
‘Beethoven and Mozart,’ she said, in a panic, ‘all in a month. How will I learn them?’
The de Silvas were staggered. Overnight, Alicia had become something of a celebrity. A photographer came to the house and her picture appeared in a music magazine. The family felt as though they were seeing her for the first time. And suddenly there was an admirer as well. Two more weeks went by. Sunil Pereira came to call. He had thought of nothing else but Alicia since the concert. He waited, impatient for the visit, a prey to Ranjith Pieris’s teasing. He hardly slept, dreaming constantly about her.
‘Go and see them, men,’ Ranjith teased. ‘Put yourself out of your misery, or I’ll have to!’
So, plucking up his courage, unprepared for his meeting with her, much less her eccentric colonial family, he went.
Let loose at this first encounter, the de Silvas reacted each in their different ways.
‘Hello, Sunil,’ said Thornton, shaking hands with him, smiling in a new and dazzling way. It was clear he needed to do nothing else. ‘Why don’t you come with us to the party at the Skyline Hotel next week? There’s supposed to be an extremely good jazz quartet playing.’
Ah, yes, why not? thought Myrtle. Why not show off in our usual fashion?
Christopher, resigned and silent as always, saw no point in getting annoyed with his family. They were completely crazy. Any friends of theirs were bound to be crazy too. What am I doing here? he thought. I don’t belong.
‘Where do your parents live, Sunil?’ asked Grace tactfully, thinking, first things first. A few discreet enquiries never went amiss. Earlier that day she had discussed Sunil with Vijay. Lying in his arms, she had told Vijay about their first encounter.
‘He has an open, friendly face,’ she had said.
Seeing him again, she felt she had been right. The young man seemed unaffected and honest.
‘My father worked for the railways,’ Sunil told them. ‘He was killed in the riots of ’47: Now my mother lives in Dondra.’
He hesitated. Would a family such as this have heard about the riots in ’47? Grace nodded, encouragingly. Of course she remembered.
‘He was crushed in an accident,’ Sunil said. His father, he told them, had been working his shift at the time. He had not been part of the riots but in the skirmish that followed he had been trampled to death. ‘My mother couldn’t get her widow’s pension because it was thought my father had taken part in the demonstration. She should have taken the matterto a tribunal but, well…’ He spread his hands out expressively.
Alicia was listening. There was not a trace of bitterness in Sunil’s voice. In the silence that followed, Grace read between the lines. She had heard how terrible things had been, how many people had been killed. Sunil’s childhood would have been very hard as a direct result. Being a Sinhalese woman, Sunil’s mother would have been ignored by the British. She would have had no idea how to get any compensation. Aloysius nodded. One brown face, he guessed, would have been the same as any other. Aloysius was unusually silent. The talk turned to other things. To Sunil’s political ambitions for the new country they were building. Good God, thought Aloysius astonished, I must be growing old. This boy’s optimism is so refreshing.
‘Our only way forward is through education,’ Sunil told Alicia, earnestly.
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