Free The Monsoon Rain by Joya Victoria Page B

Dolly was so very happy to see her niece. There was so much to talk about. She was loath to let her go, but let go she must. So very reluctantly she managed to say good-bye to her niece only until the evening.
    “See you later, dear, for supper,” she said sweetly. “Ask room service for tea, darling. If you want any,” she added as an afterthought.
    Miranda’s room was a lovely, big single room. Miranda had never seen such a big single room in any hotel she had stayed in. Of course she had not traveled very much or stayed in many hotels, so a connoisseur of hotels she was not. Everything fascinated her about the enchanting and intriguing East. She suddenly rememberedDerek—the thought simply smothered her, coming upon her like a wave. She felt excited simply at the thought of seeing him again, though she did not know where and when that would be.
    The only thing she knew was that he was at that moment somewhere in a place called Assam and that they would be flying there. She was curious to see where Derek lived and worked. And how did he live? Did he live the way he did when he was London or did he live like the people here? She lay down; thankfully the heavy drapes were drawn and the ceiling fan was on full swing.
    She woke when the room telephone started to ring. Lazily she stretched her hand to answer the phone. For a brief moment she felt slightly disoriented. Where was she? She was in such a deep sleep. It was Dolly, inquiring if she had had her bath and if she was ready to go down to the bar for a drink before dinner.
    “I will be ready in two minutes,” she replied, breathless and ashamed of herself for having slept for so long! A quick bath and Miranda felt ready to face the world. She wore the sleeveless printed cotton dress that she had bought especially before leaving London. She added a touch of rouge to her cheeks and put on a light shade of pink lipstick. She put her hair up in a chignon; it was hot, and this hairstyle suited the East, she reckoned.
    It was a very pleasant evening. Miranda felt quite merry after two gin and tonics. She was a very pretty girl, and the two dimples in her cheeks accentuated her prettiness. Men looked at her, and at the hotel bar there were a few men who came and introduced themselves to her uncle and aunt and her, of course. The men then joined them for a drink, and addresses were exchanged. And so the evening passed very pleasantly indeed. Miranda felt extraordinarily happy, almost elated—maybe the heat, she thought. The heat was making her feel very happy or was it that she knew in her heart of hearts that she would definitely be meeting Derek? Oh God, she felt so carefree, without a care in the world.
    Her uncle and aunt decided to give Miranda a tour of Calcutta. She had come so far, and instead of whisking her off to Assam, they figured, she may as well see Calcutta and get a real taste of India. After all, once she got to Assam, life would be very different.
    So after breakfast, they piled into the car and drove toward Park Street, which was Calcutta’s version of the West End in London. They parked the car and got out to walk around.
    Park Street was full of people. There were so many restaurants that Miranda could hardly believe her eyes.
    Aunt Dolly was busy showing her everything. “Here we get lovely pastries,” she told in Miranda. “Your uncle and I used to come to Trincas restaurent for afternoon tea dances!”
    Dolly smiled, remembering when she’d first come first to India as a young bride. Not knowing anything, India had frightened her at first. But the more time she spent there the more she was in love with the country. She did not want to leave India. This was her home. She loved it—the easy life, the help, everything being done for you, servants running to help at the snap of a finger. This life, this luxury, was unthinkable in England. But it was inevitable that they would have to leave. Tom had confided in her that the gardens were being