Chapter 10

A Diamond Heiress, Too

A big thank you to my readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoy this chapter as we travel with Becky through World War II.

A pitter-patter of light rain fell around us as we gathered at the train station to say our farewells. Mum did not want to relinquish Dad, and neither did Sara nor Maggie. Uncle Tom stood by, watching us with a certain grimness in his demeanor.

As for me, I suddenly wished Sara was going on this journey instead. Really, what could I do if some misfortune were to befall The Captain? If such a thing were to occur, I must delay telling Mum for as long as I could.

"Make sure you give Rebecca flowers after each performance," Mum instructed Dad, who nodded.

"I will call every day," he replied before he gave her a tender kiss on the cheek.

"Aww," I sighed at the same time as my sister and niece.

Uncle Tom glanced at his watch and feigned a lack of emotion. "You had better go."

Dad smirked and patted his brother-in-law on the shoulder.

"Come on, don't tell me you're not worried."

"Are you joking? I'm always worried," said my uncle as he grimaced through a manly embrace with Dad.

When at last we parted and found our place on the train, The Captain motioned for me to sit by the window as he took the aisle seat. Neither of us said much as we slowly pulled out towards our destination. No, I could not recall the last time I had traveled alone with him. Someone else had always been with us – Mum, Sara, or my brothers.

"It's unlike you to be so quiet," he said at last.

"I think I'm tired already," I replied as I gazed out at the serene Himalayan mountains in the distance.

"We'll have supper shortly and rest afterwards. Are you all right?"

He said those last words so gently that I felt compelled to sit up and face him.

"Thank you for asking. I have all sorts of wild thoughts whenever I travel, that's all."

"Very well," Dad nodded as he took out some documents from his brown leather briefcase. As he rifled through them, one particular piece of paper caught his attention, and he turned the single page over several times as he read it.

"What's that letter?" I asked.

"It's from London, informing me that my former solicitor, Mr. Barrow, has died."

He put it back into his briefcase and looked at me.

"He's the scoundrel who told Miss Minchin that the government had seized my property, and that Sara was a pauper."

I gasped. "I remember! That was the worst birthday of her life!"

The Captain was normally very kind, but now his face hardened as he set his jaw.

"Sacked him as soon as we returned to London. He begged to retain my business of course, to no avail."

"Served him right," I replied.

The Captain eyed our surroundings in the rail car. Most of the passengers were either asleep or engrossed in their own amusements. Nevertheless, his surreptitious glances meant that we were about to converse in another language.

"Il dit que il n'y a pas d'argent. Pas d'argent!"

I shook my head.

"Nous étions seulement inquiets pour toi, papa."

We continued our conversation thus in French.

"It bothered me greatly that the government had seized everything, since I did have a will stipulating Sara to be my heir."

"Then why did they...?"

"I don't know, but I've taken several measures since then to protect our assets. It's as if I've become a dragon jealously guarding my treasure," he mused.

"But you are not selfish, Papa."

He smiled and his face softened as he turned my direction.

"I wanted to make sure you and your siblings would not lose your inheritance."

Now, I had always been curious, but had loathed asking about these types of matters. Nevertheless, I gathered my courage.

"Inheritance? May I... ask you about that inheritance?"

"You may."

"By that, do you mean the tea gardens and factories?"

He nodded.

"All that and our cash assets, precious metals holdings, investments and..."

"Diamonds?" I whispered.

"Yes."

"I see," I said as I glanced out the window again, trying to comprehend it all.

"Why? What troubles you so?"

"Do you remember when Sara and I had visited New York six years ago, right before the war began?"

"She told me that the reunion went well, and Lotte still had that doll, Emily. But did something else happen?"

Here I switched back to telling my tale in English.

"We invited our friends to tea at the Waldorf Astoria, but only Ermengarde and Lotte could come. Jessie had moved to Florida, and Lavinia... She was ill, so we took a car to see her in Virginia."

"Lavinia... Wasn't she the school bully?"

I laughed as I remembered the snotty school girl who had once been rivals with Sara.

"Only at the beginning. By the time we left for India, she and Sara had become friends, and she was nice to me, too. Later, she became a very good student and took care of Lotte. Oh, but how her fortunes changed once she grew up!"

"How so?"

"She married into a wealthy family near Richmond, but the Great Depression wiped out their fortunes. Her own father's business failed and he killed himself. When we visited her, she was quite ill and living in a rundown house with her husband and his family."

The Captain sighed at the thought of it.

"So many were reduced to tatters during the last decade..." he remarked.

"They were," I concurred. "We were happy to see Lavie when she came to the door, but she looked so pale. We didn't mind standing in her parlor, until we heard a most unpleasant voice upstairs."

I endeavored to imitate Lavinia's husband as well as I could without being too loud.

"Lavinia, who are those people in our house? And why is a god-damned N- standing in my parlor?"

"Henry! Those are my friends!" she replied between coughing fits.

"You have a N- for a friend?" her husband spoke loudly enough to make sure I could hear.

"Well, she's far richer than you'll ever be! She and her sister Sara are diamond heiresses! Now, leave us alone!"

"So terrible... we heard a loud slap and she cried out. Afterwards, she declined our invitation to dinner. It was all we could do to give her any money we had on hand."

"I will get better, don't worry," she told us before she looked at me and said, "I'm so sorry, Becky."

"It's not your fault," I told her before we left.

The Captain stared at me, flabbergasted.

"Sara had never mentioned any of this," he replied. "I am sorry to hear of your ordeal."

"But am I really... une héritière des diamants? Our old school chums had always assumed that I was, but... I'd always thought that the diamonds were only for Sara."

He frowned as his eyebrows knitted together.

"Just what sort of a fortune did you think you would inherit from me, Rebecca?" he asked.

"None, really. Which is why I focused on my singing career... I've saved up quite a bit of quid myself," I announced with pride in my own financial accomplishments.

I had not seen him stare at me before with such a stunned expression on his face.

"I'm sorry... I thought you knew..."

He searched the papers in his briefcase and pulled out a copy of a letter.

"Here, read it," he said as he gave it to me.

I took the delicate sheet from his hand. On it were detailed instructions on how I might retrieve my inheritance following his death. I was astonished to read:

"... shall receive an even share divided among all four children of the inheritance amassed, excepting the portion to be given to Mrs. Elizabeth Carrisford Crewe. Inheritance includes all shares in Crewe House Estates, diamond and gold mines, cash and income from all investments..."

I looked up at him in amazement.

"I will inherit some part of all this?!"

"I should have mentioned it to you years ago... My children will each get a fair share of all I have, including my tea business... although it may be sold in the future."

Astounded, I placed the letter upon my heart.

"Then... what you're saying is... I am a diamond princess too?"

Perplexed by my general ignorance of the matter, he replied, "You always were."

That gentlemanly yet matter-of-fact way in which he said it was simply too much. I had to sit back and take it all in.

"Are you kidding?! I am... just like Sara?!"

"Might I assure you that I am serious, my dear?"

A smile slowly spread across my face.

"Oh, but the inheritance makes it all the more real..."

Dad looked befuddled as he gazed at me, but I didn't care. Somehow, the assurance of diamonds made me realize how much he loved me and my siblings. To him, we were all equal!

"Merci beaucoup, Papa," I said, but strangely I found it difficult to look at him.

"You're welcome. But don't count on me dying so soon."

I laughed heartily and studied my dress as I handed him the letter. He tucked it back into his papers and afterwards I felt his attentive gaze upon me.

"Did you know, Dad, that the last three times we visited that old girls' school, the very few students and staff left who had known me as a servant girl couldn't get over it when they heard me speak? I always told them it was because of you."

"And because you are a princess. By the way, did you see Mabel during your visit?"

I shook my head.

"She moved upstate to be with her daughter."

"Ah, well, she was a big help..."

"Yes, and Dr. and Mrs. Hill warmly welcomed me at Howard University after we visited Lavie. They had me sing for the faculty and students there. It was so very nice."

"Sara said she thoroughly enjoyed being there with you."

"She is the best sister anyone could ever have. I am so grateful for her every day," I said as he smiled.

"Speaking of Dr. Hill, I received a personal letter from him about a week ago. He and his wife seem to be in good health and spirits. They are about to have a great-grandchild, too."

"Wonderful! I shall write to them again soon."

He placed his hand on my shoulder for a moment.

"All in due time. Perhaps you should take a rest now," he suggested.

I nodded and shifted to face the window, where I watched the passing Indian scenery outside for a little while before I found myself dreaming.

#

An hour later, I awoke to the sound of The Captain conversing with a friendly Indian train car attendant.

"I have not seen a Rajani occupy a first-class seat in a long time. God bless you both!"

I stirred at the mention of the word "Rajani", which meant "dark one" in Sanskrit.

"Thank you," said Dad before he turned and smiled at me. Then I noticed that my head had been resting against his arm. I bolted straight up in my seat.

"Sorry," I said as I touched my chin to make sure I had not drooled.

"What for? You were tired..."

"Excuse me, but are you... traveling together?"

We looked up and saw a genteel older lady standing by us in the aisle. Clad in her silk dress, she peered over her spectacles at Dad.

"Yes, we are. Can I help you?"

"I am Mrs. Snelling. You look quite familiar, sir..." she replied.

"Ralph Crewe, and this is my daughter Rebecca," Dad introduced us.

The older lady seemed quite astonished when he introduced me as his daughter. In the past, Dad used to tell people I was an African princess and that he was my guardian, and the story of my royal lineage was readily accepted. But lately he was getting tired of the pretense.

I turned to him, and said most charmingly, "Cher papa, I so enjoy traveling with you."

He patted my arm as the woman looked on, astonished.

"Why, she speaks fluent French!"

I gave her a big smile.

"Ma chere madame, mon père m'a appris le français."

She nodded in a stunned manner, and then she turned to Dad.

"You raised her?"

"I did, madam."

"Ah, well then. Good day."

"Good day to you."

We watched quizzically as she hobbled back to her seat, three rows behind us. Dad gave me a mischievous grin as I shrugged off any consternation. It seemed only natural now to talk about certain uncomfortable moments from the past.

"Would you believe it, Rebecca. After we first returned to India... Once, when I passed by the kitchen on my way to work, I overheard Mrs. Wickham tell the cook, 'he seems to love that colored girl too much, don't you think?'"

Mrs. Wickham was the first governess Dad hired after we returned to India. She was very prejudiced against me, and her son Oliver used to bully and torment me when no one was watching.

"Did she really say that?"

Dad nodded. "Fortunately, Miss Jones put her in her place."

"Oh, what did Miss Jones say?"

"He loves them the same, is all. I've met many a man who's come back from the war peculiar. But his is a good kind of odd. Miss Rebecca is very well mannered and often helps me in the kitchen, too."

"Oh, thank you, Papa. Do you remember that not long afterwards you shook hands with Gandhi?"

"I did?"

"Yes, it was after you had sacked Mrs. Wickham and sent Sara and I to school. One morning, after we were seated in the open carriage and you were hitching it up, a slightly bent, bespectacled Indian gentleman came up behind you."

"Well, I'm not sure that was Gandhi himself..."

"Oh, Sara and I were sure. We had just learnt about him in class days before!" I said as I recalled the memory most vividly.

We spoke of many other lovely memories as we traveled the breadth of India. It turned out that keeping old Dad company for three days wasn't so bad after all. We were eager to walk on solid ground again, though. When at last we arrived at our final stop, we were much relieved.

#

After our train ride, we took a car to Shillong, the capital of Assam, and drove on to Crewe House Estates, where Ram Dass greeted us at the front door. How happy we were to see him after our long journey!

"Sahib!" he said with a big smile, as always. "You arrived just in time! My family is having a wedding welcome celebration tonight for my niece. We would be delighted to have you join us, if you like."

I gasped. "Is it Lalita who is getting married? How time passes! I still remember when she was a baby!"

"Yes, missee sahib. She is now 18. Her husband-to-be is a college graduate who works in Calcutta."

"Of course, we will come if it isn't any inconvenience to you, Ram Dass," said The Captain.

"Not at all, sahib. It would be an honor."

And so we found ourselves inside his house, putting on our wedding guest outfits. Dad was surprised to find one that fit him, for he was a tall man.

"Come," beckoned Kavita. "Let's get dressed."

Ram Dass' wife, Kavita, was only ten years older than me, so she seemed more like an older sister than an aunt. We grinned like young school girls as we pored over the multi-color hued saris hanging up on her bedroom wall.

"Here, I think this one would look perfect," she said as she lifted a red and green golden embroidered one from the pile. I tried on its gossamer veil and looked at myself in the mirror. At once, I knew she was right.

"I love it," I declared.

"Great, here are the rest of the pieces," she said as she handed them to me. "I will help you put it all together."

We heard Dad and Ram Dass out in the sitting room, waiting in their chairs. I took a peek out of Kavita's bedroom door and tried not to giggle at the sight of Dad, who was dressed like an Indian rajah of old.

"Ready?" said Kavita, who looked so lovely in her purple and white sari. She helped me adjust and tuck everything in the right places.

"Go ahead," I offered.

Kavita opened the door an inch and yelled, "we're coming out!"

Swish, swish, was the sound of our saris as we stepped out. We stopped and placed our hands on our hips as the men arose from their chairs.

"Well, darling, how do we look?" she asked.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Ram Dass.

But The Captain had a bewildered expression upon his face.

"Dad? Are you all right?" I asked.

"Yes," he took a deep breath before he said, "Lovely."

I felt uncertain after his words. Nevertheless, I flashed him a big smile and thanked him for the compliment. Then I thanked Kavita for her help with the sari.

"It's an honor to have you here," she replied warmly.

"Let's go," said Ram Dass as he directed us out the door. I felt very conscious of The Captain watching me, even as he lightly placed his hand on my back and guided me out.

The wedding celebration was one of the most festive I had ever seen. Lalita recognized and welcomed me right away to sit by her friends, for Sara and I used to watch her when we were growing up.

"Come," she invited me to dance, and I joined in. It was the most fun I had had in a while.

"How I wish Sara could have been with us!" I declared in between songs.

"Yes, but I am so glad it is you who are beside me," she said with much joy in her eyes.

I was surprised, for this was the first time I had ever heard that my presence was preferred to that of my sister.

"Nothing against Miss Sara... I just always felt that you understood me better. Come, let us dance some more!"

We twirled and swirled, and on occasion I beheld an unusual mixture of expressions upon The Captain's face as he watched us. It seemed like a combination of astonishment and admiration tinged with regret and guilt, perhaps. I was quite puzzled by his reaction.

"Are you all right, sahib?" asked Ram Dass as he sat down beside his boss.

Dad glanced in my direction.

"It's been many years since my daughters have worn saris. You see Rebecca over there?"

"She seems to be very happy dancing with the other young ladies."

"Strange... dressed like that, she reminds me of... Margaret..." he nearly whispered.

Margaret was Sara's mother, The Captain's first wife. Certainly, neither my face nor complexion bore any resemblance to Margaret Crewe, but later I was told that something in my expression perhaps, or the manner in which I moved while in my sari; my carriage and posture, and the way I positioned my hands as I danced, resembled her. He was rather bewildered by all this.

"It's as if Margaret had come back and inhabited Rebecca's body for one night," he murmured.

"How is the memsahib these days?"

"Ah... quite well. She is in Simla. I will call her tonight and give her your regards."

By night's end, I had enjoyed dancing in the sari so much that I told Kavita I wished I could wear one every day.

"Then keep it," she said warmly. "Perhaps you could wear it if you ever play an Indian princess in one of your operas."

"You mean Lakmé? Oh yes! You will have to come see me sing!"

"Of course," she promised before we celebrated the night away.

#

We reported to Colonel Miles promptly the next morning, but he graciously told us to come back at the end of the week.

"It will give you time to settle in and get comfortable with each other."

Dad and I glanced at each other quizzically.

"Colonel, may I ask what you meant?" he asked.

Miles put down his pen.

"Did I inform you, Captain, that you will be on the same SOE as your daughter?"

"No..."

"We are shorthanded and need all the help we can get. Do you know anything about music or theatre?"

"A little, perhaps. I do have two musical children..."

"Good," he replied before turning to me. "And young lady, have you had any firearms training?"

"Yes, I've had some," I replied. "Everyone in my family has."

"Do you think you could ever shoot a spy?"

My jaw dropped as I thought of it.

"I could use some more practice, then."

"We can arrange for that. In the meantime, make sure you maintain a good relationship with your dad. I will see you both on Friday morning at nine o'clock sharp."

"Yes, sir!" Dad and I spoke simultaneously. Stunned, we glanced at each other, as neither of us had ever heard the other utter those words to a superior officer before.

#

Although I could not be certain, I suspected that The Captain's return to military service triggered deeply repressed emotions and memories. His nightmares returned with a vengeance, and some symptoms of "shell shock" re-emerged as well. To clear his head, he decided to camp out for the night.

"It may help me exorcise my demons," he said almost too cheerfully.

He planned for us to camp out in tents, just like in the African bush, but on our own property of course. Our Indian servants shook their heads at the idea.

"Sahib may be eaten by a tiger or drowned by the monsoon rains and not know it," they murmured among themselves.

When I told Dad this, he chuckled and said, "I would shoot any predator that tried."

"It is monsoon season. How do we deal with the rain and soggy ground?"

"You'll see."

In the late afternoon, we set up two connecting tents with cots and chairs in the pavilion that overlooked our tea garden. By nightfall, a steady rain was upon us and we huddled inside the tents.

"Too bad we couldn't camp directly on that waterlogged land," I teased.

"I might have done it, but with you here I wasn't going to take the chance."

"Dad! But it's not real camping then, is it?"

Even in the dark, I could make out that irritating grin of his.

"You're still in a tent, weathering the elements. I remember well during the last war, when I sat under one, reading Sara's letters as rain soaked the pages."

My heart warmed as I listened to him.

"They must have been a great comfort to you."

"Indeed, they were. Well, I suppose we should retire early..."

I felt my hair and gasped, having realized I didn't bring my special pillowcase or a silk headscarf.

"Oh no," I muttered as I looked out at the night rain in despair.

Dad searched his ruck sack and took out a folded satin pillowcase, along with an extra umbrella to keep me dry.

"Here," he said as he handed them to me.

"You remembered..." I replied, astonished.

He gave me a sly grin as he said, "packed one just in case."

"Thank you for saving my hair," I said shyly.

After we retired to our tents, I couldn't help but grin as I slipped the pillowcase over my pillow and laid down on my cot. The sound of rain pelting the pavilion quickly lulled me to sleep.

But any rest did not last long. Around midnight, I heard The Captain having yet another nightmare. At once, I arose, lit my lamp, and ran into his tent.

"You... will not... win!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Dad!" I cried as I shook him.

He awoke and sat up, gasping for air as he held on to my arm.

"Are you all right?" I asked, as I put down my lamp.

He tried to parse his thoughts but looked very alarmed.

"Why do I keep awakening to these dreams? It's as if they are warning me of battles to come..."

"You are away from Mum, that's all. Let me get you a drink."

As I turned away, he said, "Rebecca, please..."

At once, I returned and took his trembling, outstretched hand.

"I will keep you company, Dad. Wait just a minute."

I hurried into my tent and dragged my cot and sleeping bag into his.

"How did you know...?" he began.

"I just do," I said, as I prepared my cot. "Even after we first returned to India, your nightmares about the war didn't end right away. Sara and I often had to shake you awake."

"Quite right, you did."

"They got better after you married Mum."

I sat down beside him as he let out a deep sigh.

"I worried a lot back then," he said. "On the surface, everything about me appeared unchanged, but the war had inflicted much damage. The outer wounds of the body had healed, but the inner man had not. Often, I agonized over you girls, wondering what would happen if I were gone..."

He breathed hard as I tried to reassure him.

"That day you came to your senses and rescued us from Miss Minchin was the happiest day ever. I will never forget it," I replied as I recalled that rainy night when I first called him 'Dad'.

He must have recalled, for his next words were startling.

"I must confess Rebecca, that it bothers me greatly whenever you call me 'captain'. I thought... I was more than... a stranger to you..."

He blinked several times as I placed my hand upon his cheek.

"You are, and always will be my dad, and I love you forever. It's just that... your African princess has grown up now and wants to help you in return... As if Princess Sita could help rescue Rama, for a change."

Dad grunted.

"Very well, but I still don't like it... I will be watching you very closely."

I grinned and tried to cheer him up with good memories.

"Do you remember that lavish debutante ball you and Mum threw for us when we turned 16? What a night! Everyone was dressed to the hilt and you looked so handsome, Daddy!"

He nodded.

"That was the last big party we had hosted. Then along came the Great Depression..."

"Yes, but it was that air of opulence, elegance and chivalry that come to mind... it's something we could use right now. For example, you might escort me to my concerts, and..."

He turned toward me with a troubled smile and placed his hand upon my shoulder.

"It is you... I worry about. You are now in a world of intrigue and conspiracy, where things are not as they appear, and everyone pretends to be something else."

Putting my arm around his back, I laid my head against his shoulder.

"Then, I am glad to walk through this snake garden with you."

Pleased, he leaned his head against mine. We sat and listened to the rain for a long time.

"Why does it seem as if this night is the night before the world ends?" he asked.

Because tomorrow I become a soldier, just like you, Dad.