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“Silly indeed,” Geraldine agreed. “And we shall doubtless see more of the same this
very evening, for Mrs. Tucker has informed me we have been invited to dine at the Byculla Club. All
of us. She said it with great emphasis. Which is quite the social accomplishment, I take it, especially
in light of this particular group. She may as well have added, ‘Yes, even the Jew.’”
“She’s horrid,” said Emma. “Did you hear her shriek at that poor housemaid? Why is it
that when we British speak to foreigners we shout, as if raising the volume of our voice will
somehow make them understand English? It would seem after a lifetime in this country she would at
least have learned a few words in the native language.”
“Yes, but which native language? India has more than a hundred indigenous tongues. No
doubt a household of this size has three or four among its staff.” Geraldine looked at her kindly.
“We’re all a bit tired, I think, and the temperature has made us cranky. An afternoon nap will set it
right.”
Emma was indeed exhausted, although it pained her to admit it. “A nap already? The
hall clock showed barely noon when we entered.”
“Ah, but it is later in London.”
“Actually it’s earlier in London,” Emma said, with a little laugh. “You always manage
to get that backwards. It’s no more than three in the morning there.”
“All the more reason we should be in bed,” Geraldine said, pushing to her feet. “Come,
my dear. India is punishing, especially to women, and we shall be no good to anyone tonight if we
arrive at the Club, and thus at the true start of the investigation, in ill humor. And when it comes to
Mrs. Tucker…You must try a little harder to see it from her perspective. She may be tedious, but she
is our hostess.”
“I will try,” Emma said. “But I do intend to tour the temples no matter what she says.
And I shall at least learn a few words of Hindustani.”
“Oh at least,” Geraldine said with a vigorous pat to her arm. “And you can bristle at
every ridiculous remark which is made at tonight’s dinner table, of which I’m sure there will be
many. But still….I must say that from a social standpoint, things seem better here than they were
when I last came.”
On that disconcerting note, Emma left Geraldine and wandered back to her own room.
Both her bags were waiting there, looking somewhat the worst for their ride from the dock, and Emma
could not begin to imagine how the driver and maids had determined which valise was to be
delivered to which room.
Her blouse was uncomfortably stiff with dried sweat, so Emma opened the smaller bag
and pulled a nightgown from it. Geraldine had warned that the British in India changed clothes three
or four times a day but Emma had misunderstood the comment. She had thought that Geraldine was
suggesting they were pompous and effete, and thus trying to emulate the behavior of the upper classes
back at home by having one suit of clothes designated for luncheon and another for tea. Now she saw
that Geraldine had been talking about nothing more than the necessity of staying comfortable in the
heat and Emma grimly reflected that she had packed far too light. If she continued to perspire at this
rate she would have to do laundry daily.
Geraldine had also said something about snakes and scorpions and bugs hiding in
bedclothes so – after shucking her clothing, corset, and stockings – Emma strode over to the low bed
and grabbed the sheets. She pulled them back layer by layer, systematically shaking each in turn, but
no creatures emerged. The window above the bed was open but the heavy woven grass screens
seemed to be discouraging a breeze, if indeed one were inclined to blow. Emma noted many moths