Free Teatime for the Firefly by Shona Patel Page A

Jardine Henley Co. as Assistant Manager in Aynakhal Tea Estate. Details to follow.’ What details? There has not been another squeak from Manik Deb. He has not replied to any letters from his family for the past month. He has simply vanished like a coward into the jungle.”
    I could hardly believe what I was hearing. A tea planter? Why would Manik want to do that, of all things?
    “And that is not the worst part,” Mr. Sen was saying. “Manik Deb has signed a contract that does not allow him to marry for the first three years. It is the company rule. He did this without telling any of us. The shame of it all.”
    “This may not be a bad thing,” Dadamoshai mused. “It will give Kona some time to mature before she marries. It is always advisable.”
    “Mature, you say! Why, sir, my daughter will be a seed pumpkin by the time Manik Deb is ready to exchange garlands with her. How can I risk that?”
    Mr. Sen nibbled his lips some more. Even from a distance, I saw glistening beads of sweat on his brow. “She has already waited seven years for this worthless fellow and spent all this time embroidering tablecloths! What is she to do for another three years? Embroider more tablecloths, you tell me?”
    “Send her to school,” Dadamoshai suggested brightly. “An educated girl will make a fine companion for Manik Deb. He seems to enjoy intellectual conversations.”
    “No, no, no, Rai Bahadur, sir, you are not getting the point!” Mr. Sen fanned himself furiously. “A girl of a marriageable age cannot be left on the shelf for too long. She will become like the suitcase left behind at a station where trains do not stop by anymore. Then I will have to pay even more money to get her married. I am beginning to doubt Manik Deb’s sanity. His tea-garden job has no future. Life in the plantations is very—what shall I say—different. There are only Europeans. I don’t know how my daughter will fit in. If only he could give us an explanation for his senseless decision. Which, my dear Rai Sahib, brings me to the reason why I have come to see you today. I need a favor from you.”
    “Ah,” said Dadamoshai. He had probably suspected all along that his wily neighbor had an ulterior motive for dropping by.
    “I know Manik Deb spent a lot of time in your company. He is a great admirer of your ideas, writings and such.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Did he by any chance talk to you about applying for a tea-plantation job?” Mr. Sen eyed my grandfather suspiciously, as if he was a coconspirator in Manik’s deceit.
    “My goodness, he mentioned not a word of it to me,” said Dadamoshai, his eyes round and innocent as a child. “I am sure Manik has his reasons for making a career change. Have you tried to contact him?”
    “Oh yes, we called the Jardine Henley Head Office in Calcutta several times. I finally spoke to one senior director. He was most cordial. When I told him I was calling from Silchar, he asked me if I knew you. His name is James Lovelace.”
    “Oh yes, James Lovelace! Of course, I know him well.” Dadamoshai smiled broadly. “He is the brother of a very dear friend of mine. I heard James was in India, but I had no idea he worked for a tea company.”
    “Well, James Lovelace is a big shot of Jardine Henley & Company. He is very impressed with your work in the field of education, and praised your intelligence, character, etcetera. And since you are such a dear friend of his brother’s in England...”
    “Sister, actually,” Dadamoshai said a little dreamily.
    Mr. Sen’s piggy eyes were quick to catch on. Ha! He seemed to be thinking, the sister—no doubt one of the Rai Bahadur’s sleazy English mistresses. But this was no time for moral judgments. He was on a crucial mission.
    “Well, his sister, then...but maybe you could use your influence with James Lovelace to contact Manik Deb? We urgently need to speak to him. Manik’s older brother, who arranged this marriage, is very disturbed. He