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Kavita and Charlie’s daughter Kunti was born in very unsettled times. India was in that terrible pre Partition/Independence period. Millions were to lose their lives, because of the British Government’s ‘doddering, indecisiveness. Independence came and in the scramble to flex their new found power, new, Indian management, were terminating the services of British and Anglo Indian managers, all over the foreign owned tea gardens in Assam. In Misty Valley, things carried on as they were for a while. Charlie, Kavita and Kunti, were growing into a strong family unit, but were uncertain of their future. The axe soon fell. They were taken over by a new company from Calcutta.

Charlie and his young family sadly packed up and said goodbye to Joe Boy and Kavita’s mum and went to Guwahati, to try to get work there, but to no avail. Charlie had a lot of money saved up, but started getting worried when after two months he still couldn’t find work. Then Mahatma Ghandi was assassinated and rumours were flying about that an Anglo Indian had ‘done it‘. Charlie and his family hid indoors for three days, in fear for their lives. Then, with relief, the dreadful news that ‘One of ‘His Own’ killed him. Kavita urged Charlie to go home and see his family. ’You must do this, otherwise you will wonder for the rest of your life whether you killed your Father.’ She said. He knew she was right and spent a few days agonising over, and reliving those terrible memories of hitting his Father.

They arrived at Asansol, in the afternoon and took a tonga to his house. He knocked on the ’trellised door’, his Mum opened it and for a moment Charlie thought she was going to faint. She pulled herself together and said, ’What do you want?’ in a voice he didn’t recognise. His heart was pounding, she looked well. ’How are you Ma?’ he said, when she said nothing he said. ’How is Dad?’ ’Ohh you want to know about your father? Do you? Hold on I’ll let you see for yourself’. ’Dad! Dad! (she always called him Dad) Someone here to see you’ She said. A small grey haired old man hobbled into the front room on crutches. ‘Dad!!? Said Charlie, ‘Who is it?’ He said. ‘Its me Dad, its me, Charlie Dad’. A pause, a puzzled frown, then recognition. ‘Charlie? My Son? Come here let me look at you’. Charlie sobbed and went to his father. ‘I’m sorry Dad, I’m so sorry’ He said. ‘Sorry?, for what?’ said his Dad. ‘For hitting you‘. He said. ‘Oh that was nothing, Said his Dad, In fact you did me a favour, my son’. Confused, Charlie said, ‘I did?. ‘Yea, your mother found me lying on the floor and got me to hospital. After they patched me up, they did some tests and discovered I had a dodgy heart and a dodgy liver. When I came home the Railway retired me’. ‘Charlie, your mother and I are going to England. Your two elder brothers went last month, and we leave next week.’ There’s nothing left for us here, we are going to England Charlie, We’re going Home‘.

Charlie stood shocked. With all that was going on in his life, in his small, beautiful, protected world in ‘Misty Valley’, not once in his thoughts about his family in Asansol, did he ever think that they would leave India. But here he was, back in his (Ok, sometimes unhappy) childhood home, facing the terrible reality that his family were deserting him.Kavita?, where was she?. He went to the door and saw her sitting on their big tin box. She was feeding Kunti some hard biscuits and some bread. He felt a pang in his heart and resolved that come what may he would do his damndest to make sure that all three of them would be ok. Sensing his gaze, Kavita looked up and saw him. She smiled, picked up Kunti and went to him. He took them in.

‘Mom, Dad. This is My wife Kavita and your grand daughter, Kunti’. He said. Stunned silence, and looks of disbelief on the faces of his parents. An eternity seemed to pass. Suddenly the dam burst, and his mother screamed and spluttered. ‘You filthy little bas---d!!. You blo---- you blo--- I--I---- God, help me!! I should have strangled you the day you were born, you little bugger. You are just determined to make us unhappy and ruin our lives, aren’t you?. Not satisfied with nearly killing your father, you now expect us to welcome that,-- that bloody little villager into our family?? Tell me, What are our friends and neighbours going to say when they find out, eh? What?. I’ll tell you. They’ll be sniggering and laughing at us, behind our backs, whispering that Charlie Huggins has married his bloody Ayah. That’s what!! Now you listen to me you little shit, you get out of here and take your bloody wog family with you, I will not let you ruin our lives, just as we are on the brink of happiness’.

Charlie felt faint at the ferocity of this attack. He put his arm protectively around Kavita and Kunti and stepped back towards the door. ‘Mum please!! We love each other Ma, and we are happy’ ‘You love each other? Eh! You stupid bloody idiot, when did love ever matter? She snarled. Then cold and livid with anger she said ‘Now get out! Charlie stood there absolutely numb. Then searching for something to say. ‘We need a place to sleep tonight’ He said. ‘What! She shouted, No bloody fears, I will not have a wog sleeping under my roof’. ‘Don’t call her that, she is my wife and this is my home.’ He said. This is not your home, you gave up every right you had, the day you struck your Father. For that and for this final indignity, may you rot in hell. Now for the last time, she screamed, get out!!’. And left the room.

Charlie’s dad came to them, he put his hand on Charlie’s arm and said, ‘Wait here Charlie’ and hobbled off inside. He came back after a few minutes. ‘Charlie, I’m sorry for the way your mother spoke to you, try not to let it upset you. She is under a lot of strain, what with looking after me and organising our move to England. You must go now Charlie, here take this’ and handed Charlie a fat wadge of Rupee notes. ‘You’ll be alright Charlie, I know you will, take care son, these are going to be hard times for Anglo Indians everywhere, but you my son, have probably stumbled unknowingly, onto what could probably be the best way to survive in this country, without having to leave.’ They hugged each other. ‘Dad? Where’s Lorna? Asked Charlie. ‘Ah yes! Said his dad, ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Yes you must go to Lorna, She and Eustace are performing in ‘Hollywood City’ in Bangalore. Now go Charlie, you can catch the 2100 passenger service to Calcutta which will connect with the 0500 express to Madras. Look after yourself and your family.’ His eyes clouded over and he turned away quickly and went inside.

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