The Damascened Blade(107)

Betty stopped walking, turned to him and looked up at him earnestly. ‘Joe?’ she said quietly. ‘When communications are restored – would you mention my name too?’

Joe squeezed her arm. ‘I already have.’

Lily was glad of the support of James Lindsay’s strong right arm. Pale, with red-rimmed eyes, she was avoiding contact with everyone except for James and Joe. They had found her, a shaking heap behind the battlements, wild-eyed and speechless, the .303 rifle by her side, and it had taken Joe a long time to persuade her to let him take her back to her room. He recognized shock when he saw it and stayed with her for hours, his arm around her shoulders, talking quietly. If she’d been a man he’d have known exactly what to do. What the hell! He’d summoned a havildar and sent him off to find half a pint of rum.

‘I’ve arranged with Sir George that he will take you back to Simla tomorrow if that’s still what you want, Lily,’ James said. ‘Joe will be going with you too. Couldn’t have a more perfect pair of knights to escort you.’

Lily managed a smile. ‘Joe is more like Sir George than he would ever want to admit, I think. In fact, give him a few more years and you won’t be able to distinguish the one from the other.’

‘Lily,’ said James. ‘Will you forgive me for ever thinking . . .’

‘James!’ said Lily, interrupting. ‘I think we’ve both had to do a little reassessing. I was a lot smarter than you gave me credit for and you were a lot dumber than I thought. Forget it.’

‘Well, at least let me thank you for what you did this morning. I can’t believe it but I haven’t until now had a chance to . . .’

Again she broke in. ‘Thank me for saving your life? Any woman would have done the same. Ask Betty.’

James stood still and looked about him. They were out of earshot of the rest of the group. ‘You know?’

Lily nodded.

‘But how? What . . .?’

‘Joe and I looked into your room. We knew what we were looking for and we found it. Candlesticks on each bedside table. You and Betty are both right-handed. I notice these things. If you, James, had really hit Zeman you would automatically have picked up your own candlestick from the table on the right of your bed – that’s on the side away from Zeman’s knife hand, and hit him . . .’ She aimed the side of her hand at James’s head. ‘Allowing for the fact that he was hovering over you . . . somewhere about there. On the left side of his head. You’d need to be a contortionist to have hit him where he was hit – over the other side. But for Betty, reaching for her own candlestick . . .’

‘Does Joe know this?’

‘We haven’t talked about it but he’s pretty smart so I shouldn’t wonder. He seems to catch on to things a minute or two after I’ve worked it out.’ Again a faint smile. ‘But we’re neither of us the kind to go shooting off our mouths where it’s not necessary. I think it would be a very bad idea if anyone else were to find out. For Betty’s peace of mind. And that’s what you have to hold on to, James. Not much else matters in this ghastly affair. Don’t be concerned for me. I’m tough and I guess I don’t have Betty’s Christian conscience to wrestle me down. Don’t get me wrong – I have a relationship with God but it’s not the regular kind.’

They stood to watch the last blood-red segment of the sun slide out of view and Lily shivered. ‘Sundown. Bad time of day for humankind, my pa always says.’

James ran his eyes over the horizon and the gloomy shadows of the Khyber. ‘Bad country for humankind. Brings out the best but it brings out the worst as well. Look at that uncompromising ugliness! What are we all doing here? It isn’t a country worth fighting for. It’s not worth the bones of either of those gallant men in that cemetery. Leave it to bury its dead, Lily.’