It was a stiflingly hot day in Agra. Sennen had the ceiling fans in the house doing their best to stir the turgid air, and outside she had set a small table under the shade of a Plumbago tree. She leant back in her chair and took a sip of the iced lemonade she had made that morning.
Kafir came out to join her. ‘Post from Cornwall,’ he said, handing her the letter.
She pulled her reading glasses from her head. ‘Thank you. Have some lemonade?’
She opened the envelope as Kafir helped himself.
Her new reading glasses brought Ella’s handwriting into sharp focus. ‘It’s an invitation.’ She smiled. ‘To Billie’s Christening.’
Little Billie Beauchamp, named after her great-grandfather and just eight weeks old, blinked and gurgled as the Reverend Simon Canter sprinkled holy water from the font on to her head. He blessed her and kissed her and handed her back to her mother, Ella, who beamed. Her grin could not have stretched further.
Sennen took a photograph on her phone and then asked Simon anxiously, ‘Sorry. Is it okay to take pictures in the church?’
‘Of course. A joyous occasion such as this must be recorded. How about I take one of you and Grandfather Kafir with Billie and her parents?’ Aali and Sabu barged in. ‘Oh, yes, and you two. Goodness. Can’t forget the uncles and aunts can we?’ Simon took several pictures before turning his attention to Deborah and Henry. ‘And what about the godparents! Come on, everyone, squeeze in.’
Henry put one arm around Ella and another around Deborah whose pregnant bump was clear.
With all the pictures done, Kit said, ‘Right, time for tea. Simon, you and your wife are very welcome. Pencil House is tiny but we’ll all squeeze in I’m sure.’
‘That’s very kind, I’ll go and collect Penny and we’ll follow on. I have always wanted to see inside Pencil House. It was Ella’s grandparents’ home, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. Their first house. I think Sennen may even have been born there. When it went up for sale, Ella insisted we put an offer in.’
Ella, cradling Billie, touched Kit’s arm, ‘Your daughter will be hungry in a minute and your wife needs a cup of tea. Mum and Kafir are so looking forward to seeing the house.’
Debs was desperate to take her shoes off. ‘Henry, I need to sit down, your son is kicking the hell out of me.’
‘Oh, darling. Sorry. I just want a word with the vicar before he goes. Sit on the pew here.’
Henry caught Simon as he was on his way to the vestry. ‘Excuse me,’ he said.
‘Yes, Henry?’ Simon replied, smiling.
‘I’m not much of a churchgoer, but would you – would we be able to ask you to baptise our baby?’
‘Of course. I’d be delighted. May I ask, have you been baptised?’
Henry hung his head, ‘No, if that means we can’t …’
‘Not at all, in fact, I could always do a double baptism? Father and child?’
‘I don’t think that’s really …’
‘Well, maybe a wedding and a baptism?’
Henry chewed his lip. ‘Ah well, I haven’t asked Debs …’
Simon patted him on the shoulder. ‘Then I suggest you do.’
The little front garden of Pencil House was bright with pots of dahlias and hydrangeas. Kit had hung pink bunting around the windows and front door and outside was a hand-painted sign saying:
BILLIE BEACHAMP’S CHRISTENING GUESTS WELCOME
The tall thin house gathered the day’s joy within its walls and passed that happiness to the people within. Guests left full of sandwiches cake and tea, safe in the certainty that Billie would grow up loved and secure.
The star of the show herself, had not let anyone down and was now sleeping blissfully in her upstairs cot.
Sennen and Ella crept in to look at her. ‘She’s been a good girl, hasn’t she,’ doted Sennen. ‘And she looks so like you.’
‘Does she?’ Ella asked, surprised that Sennen would remember.
‘Oh yes. And I think she will have your temperament too.’
Sennen stroked the sleeping face with the back of her hand. ‘So wonderful. Three generations in the same room. The room where I suppose my cot was and where Mum and Poppa would stand like this looking at me.’
‘Four generations if they were here,’ sighed Ella.
‘I believe they are here,’ said Sennen, ‘in our hearts and minds.’
Much later, they heard a noise on the stairs and Kafir appeared at the door.
Sennen put her finger to her lips, ‘Shh.’
‘I’ve come to tell you that Sabu and Aali are very tired so if it’s okay, I shall take them back to the hotel,’ he whispered.
‘I won’t be long,’ she whispered back.
Ella hugged him. ‘Thank you for coming, Kafir. Billie is lucky to have an Indian grandfather. Think of all those summer holidays.’
‘I am proud to have a granddaughter. In India, I would be called Nannaa I believe.’
‘Nannaa?’
‘Nani, I think.’
Ella looked from Kafir to Sennen, ‘Well, from now on, you are Nannaa and Nanni.’
‘Thank you.’ Kafir bent to kiss Sennen. ‘See you later.’
When Ella and Sennen got downstairs, Kit was setting off the dishwasher and Debs was on the sofa, her swollen legs on Henry’s knee. He was rubbing her ankles.
‘Drink anyone?’ called Kit from the kitchen. ‘I have a bottle of good red that I have hidden away. And an orange juice for pregnant and breastfeeding women.’
Debs groaned. ‘I could murder a glass of Pinot grigio.’
‘Patience my love, patience,’ smiled Henry.
Kit came from the kitchen with a corkscrew and three glasses.
Sennen fetched the orange juice. When she came back Ella, Kit, Henry and Debs were all looking at her. ‘What?’ she said, handing over the orange juice.
Ella looked at Henry. ‘Go on Henry. You first.’
Henry stopped massaging Debs’ ankles and cleared his throat. ‘Over the last few months we’ve all been talking and, well, I have decided to leave my job in London, sell the house in Clapham and …’
‘Not Mandalay Road? I thought you loved it?’ interjected Sennen.
‘Yes, well it seems I love Debs and our baby enough to leave all that behind and buy something here, in Trevay.’
Sennen was amazed. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, and to erm …’
Ella was fidgety with excitement, ‘You know the old Chandlers shop up by the boat sheds?’
‘Yes.’ Sennen was puzzled.
‘We’ve bought it.’
Sennen clapped her hands. ‘Whatever for?’
‘For Granny and Poppa’s art school.’
Sennen’s jaw dropped. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ Henry nodded. He continued. ‘It’ll give us all a job. Debs has done the conveyancing. Kit and Ella will run the courses and teach, and I’ll mop up everything else.’
‘But, this is wonderful.’ Sennen’s tears came suddenly. ‘Wonderful. A dream come true. I don’t know want to say.’
Henry put his hand in his pocket and threw her a freshly laundered handkerchief, ‘Sorry I can’t stand up. I’m pinned by these galumphing fat ankles.’
Sennen began to laugh, ‘Are you sure about him, Deborah?’
‘As sure as I’ll ever be,’ she sighed.
‘So,’ said Ella, picking up her glass of wine, ‘Let’s raise our glasses to the Adela and William Tallon School of Art.’
‘To Granny and Poppa,’ cheered Henry.
‘And,’ said Sennen, ‘to coming home.’