Brixton Beach

His eyes were the colour of cloudy glass. The tension eased imperceptibly. Perhaps now they could get on with the business of enjoying her birthday, thought Alice. She was longing to try her bicycle. Sita leaned back in her chair, shutting her eyes, and once again without warning the moment became fixed in Alice’s mind, with the sea glimpsed through the doorway and her aunt May’s sari the colour of ripe mangoes.

‘Why don’t you children sit out on the verandah,’ May suggested.

‘I’m not a child,’ Esther frowned.

She went in to see the cook, to get a small handful of hot rice.

‘Aren’t you going to eat anything?’ Alice asked curiously when she returned and sat down on the step.

Esther rolled the rice up into a small ball and popped it into her mouth. Then she chewed it in silence. She was wearing her polka-dot dress and a pair of pretend sunglasses. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a brooch in the shape of a heart with Elvis’s face on it. Alice stared at her.

‘Why don’t you swallow the rice?’ she asked curiously after a while.

Boredom flitted across Esther’s face like a passing cloud.

‘Because it’s meant to be gum, silly. You don’t swallow gum!’

‘Why don’t you get some real gum, then?’ Alice challenged.

Esther gave her a withering look. Then she picked up her hoolahoop from the ground and began to swing it on her hips.

‘Elvis the pelvis,’ Alice said.

Everyone knew Esther was Elvis-mad and that the whole of her house was a shrine to him. Alice continued to gaze at her.

‘Why don’t you get some proper gum?’ she asked again.

‘They don’t sell gum at the kade,’ Esther said at last. And it’s too expensive at the hotel shop.’

‘Come on, children,’ May called out from the dining room. ‘Time to cut your cake, Alice.’

They sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and Alice blew out all nine candles in one go so she knew her wish would come true.

‘How much longer before the wedding, Aunty May?’ Esther asked.

If there was one thing Esther envied Alice for, it was having an aunt like May. Her own family consisted of just her mother and herself, for her father had died when she had been born. Esther had known the Fonsekas all her life and May with her large dark eyes had all the glamour of the film star Esther wanted to become when she grew up. May smiled and handed out the cake plates.

‘Three weeks and four days after the new baby arrives,’ she said, winking at her niece. ‘You’ll be the big sister then!’ she added, laughing at the expression on Alice’s face. ‘Don’t worry, darling, you’ll always be the eldest. The baby won’t count! Look at me, once a baby always a baby!’

May was ten years younger than Sita, less remote and easier to talk to. She worked as an English teacher in the boy’s school at the top of Mount Lavinia Hill. She was the only woman who taught there. Everyone joked that she had got the job because of her looks and that the masters were all a little in love with her. Even after the scandal of her sister’s elopement, no one had turned against May. She was too beautiful for that. Then a few years ago May had met Namil. He was from a well-respected Singhalese family and had been to the university in Peradeniya where he’d qualified as an engineer. Very soon Namil had fallen in love with her.

‘He’ll never be short of a good job,’ Alice’s mother had said wistfully when she heard.

Namil was very tall. Together, he and May made a striking pair. Esther was constantly admiring them.

‘You’re so lucky,’ she told Alice, ‘having an aunt like May. It’ll be such a stylish wedding.’

Aunty May is lucky that Namil is a Singhalese,’ Alice agreed. ‘Not like my dada.’

Startled, Esther raised her eyebrows.

‘Don’t go passing on such information to everyone, men,’ she said loftily. ‘Not in this day and age, or you’ll get into trouble.’

‘Alice!’ May called. ‘Don’t neglect your guests. They’re dying for more cake! Come and serve them.’

‘I’d better make a move,’ Sita announced without moving.

‘Why on earth can’t you stay the night?’ Dias asked.

Being both neighbour and family friend, she felt she could say those things others could not without giving offence.

‘It’s no use, Dias. I’ve already asked her,’ Kamala said.

There was an awkward pause. Sita shook her head without speaking and the conversation moved on in sharp staccato sentences overlaying each other. Every word seemed as heavy as the heat outside.

Are you going to the fair tonight, Alice?’ Esther asked.

‘Yes, yes,’ May called out, laughing at them. ‘It was meant to be a surprise, Esther! Namil and I are going to take you tonight, Alice.

It’s your birthday treat. Your second birthday treat in one day, you lucky girl!’

May came over to where they sat on the cool verandah beside the pots of ferns.

‘Are you going to live in England, then?’ Esther asked suddenly.

‘No, of course not!’

‘Oh! Why have you got a passport then?’

Alice didn’t know. Her father’s older brother lived in England. He had gone long before Alice was born.

‘I think he sent it,’ she said dubiously. As a present.’

‘You don’t give people passports as presents,’ Esther scoffed.

‘It’s always good to have a passport,’ May told them lightly.

‘Why?’ asked Alice, but May had turned and was taking Sita’s bag out to the car. There was a scraping back of chairs and the grown-ups came out on to the verandah. They no longer looked happy.

‘I think,’ Esther said softly, ‘you’ll find you are going.’

She spoke under her breath and Alice, glancing up at her mother, did not hear. Although she did notice that Sita had a funny, closed expression. It was the look that usually followed an argument. Her grandfather was frowning and staring at the ground.

‘Come, then,’ Bee said finally. ‘I’ll take you.’

He sounded cross.

‘Will Stanley be waiting for you at the station?’ Dias asked.