meridian_rose (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
meridian_rose) wrote2016-05-12 08:58 pm
meridian_rose) wrote2016-05-12 08:58 pm
Indian Summers fic: Summer's End Approaches
Title: Summer's End Approaches
Fandom: Indian Summers
Pairing/Characters: Charlie Havistock (mentions others)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 809
Prompt: For the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hc_bingo May Anmnesty Challenge, small fandom, prompt "homesickness"
Summary: "The longing for England is almost painful some days, a dull ache that no amount of whisky can soothe." Charlie hates India and how it continues to drive a wedge between himself and his wife. (Sometime before the end scenes of S2e08)
Content Notes: No standard warnings apply.
Also @ AO3
He hates this country. He hates almost everything about it.
He hates the climate, warm even in the summer retreat, away from the heat of the plains. It would be damp and cool back home. It isn't a proper English summer until a Bank Holiday picnic gets rained off.
He hates the food, the smell of it, the way the scent lingers permanently in the air. Even the occasional downpour that dares to dampen the Indian heat can't wash away the stink of the place.
He hates the people, the way his brother-in-law Ralph lets the natives walk all over him, tolerates the sort of behaviour from Bhupinder that Charlie would fire a bank clerk over without a moment's thought. The way the servants are always watching and silently condemning – how dare they judge him! The way they interrupt practically every conversation he has with his family.
Cynthia; well, she took against him over his little nickname for her, and while he has nothing but contempt for the woman, with her false airs and graces, acting like the Queen of Simla, it is at least fun to spar with her. So very British, to trades insults in an irreproachably polite manner. It only makes the homesickness worse.
He hates that the scenery isn't so appalling that he can truly despise it. He was born and raised in the city and too much greenery, even good English countryside, makes him unsettled after a while. Yet there is a kind of beauty in the mountains, the kind that Kipling wrote of, and it cannot be denied.
He hates that Alice loves it here. This is not her home. She was born here, but she has spent more time in England than in India. She is an Englishwoman and her heart belongs in England; once they get back on English soil, she will realise that.
He hates that he gave in and came to India for the summer. Alice deserted him, took his child, absconded to this wretched place with its earthquakes and explosions and rumours of rebellion. She came home only when he threatened to apply to the courts and take custody of Percy. Yet here they are, fulfilling her wishes.
He hates that Alice forsook him, and ran to this, of all places. Had it been Brighton she chose, he could have had her back within a week. Nonetheless, he has, since her return, tried to be a decent man, even if he cannot forgive her actions. He has taken a job he didn't truly want in order to please Alice, a room under the roof of a man who has never liked him, and has been supporting Ralph's paltry finances. It is a man's obligation to provide for his family but Charlie is the only one doing so.
He is in this country only for his family's sake. To attempt to give Alice the happiness she claims he denies her, the sole reason she gave for leaving him.
He hates that no matter what he does it doesn't seem to be enough. He hates that he increasingly has to berate her, watch her, suspect her, because ever since they got to India she's been more sullen and disrespectful to him. He hates that she flaunts herself, like that incident at the fashion show, and he hates most of all that she spends far too long talking with Aafrin Dalal.
He hates how Alice drives him to lose control. She is his wife, Percy is his child, and he does not deserve to be treated so poorly. It is a man's responsibility to prevent his wife from humiliating her family. It is a husband's duty to stop her from straying. It would be easier, was easier, back home, away from Ralph's smug encouragement of Alice's rebellious nature, and the sense of revolution in the air.
The longing for England is almost painful some days, a dull ache that no amount of whisky can soothe.
England is where they were happy. Where he met and married Alice. Where their child was born and where he will be raised.
He takes comfort in the thought that the summer days are drawing to a close, his contract will finish, and he and Alice and Percy will go home. Together, as she promised when he agreed to take the job at the bank. Though he's spent every day since Alice's return three years ago making sure to paint her as an unfit parent, lest she try to run again. The courts would have no hesitation in ensuring he is the sole parent of their child. She surely will not dare to abandon him again.
He strums his fingers across the strings of his banjolele. They will return to England in mere weeks. Summer is almost at its end, and it cannot come soon enough.
Fandom: Indian Summers
Pairing/Characters: Charlie Havistock (mentions others)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 809
Prompt: For the
hc_bingo May Anmnesty Challenge, small fandom, prompt "homesickness"Summary: "The longing for England is almost painful some days, a dull ache that no amount of whisky can soothe." Charlie hates India and how it continues to drive a wedge between himself and his wife. (Sometime before the end scenes of S2e08)
Content Notes: No standard warnings apply.
Also @ AO3
He hates this country. He hates almost everything about it.
He hates the climate, warm even in the summer retreat, away from the heat of the plains. It would be damp and cool back home. It isn't a proper English summer until a Bank Holiday picnic gets rained off.
He hates the food, the smell of it, the way the scent lingers permanently in the air. Even the occasional downpour that dares to dampen the Indian heat can't wash away the stink of the place.
He hates the people, the way his brother-in-law Ralph lets the natives walk all over him, tolerates the sort of behaviour from Bhupinder that Charlie would fire a bank clerk over without a moment's thought. The way the servants are always watching and silently condemning – how dare they judge him! The way they interrupt practically every conversation he has with his family.
Cynthia; well, she took against him over his little nickname for her, and while he has nothing but contempt for the woman, with her false airs and graces, acting like the Queen of Simla, it is at least fun to spar with her. So very British, to trades insults in an irreproachably polite manner. It only makes the homesickness worse.
He hates that the scenery isn't so appalling that he can truly despise it. He was born and raised in the city and too much greenery, even good English countryside, makes him unsettled after a while. Yet there is a kind of beauty in the mountains, the kind that Kipling wrote of, and it cannot be denied.
He hates that Alice loves it here. This is not her home. She was born here, but she has spent more time in England than in India. She is an Englishwoman and her heart belongs in England; once they get back on English soil, she will realise that.
He hates that he gave in and came to India for the summer. Alice deserted him, took his child, absconded to this wretched place with its earthquakes and explosions and rumours of rebellion. She came home only when he threatened to apply to the courts and take custody of Percy. Yet here they are, fulfilling her wishes.
He hates that Alice forsook him, and ran to this, of all places. Had it been Brighton she chose, he could have had her back within a week. Nonetheless, he has, since her return, tried to be a decent man, even if he cannot forgive her actions. He has taken a job he didn't truly want in order to please Alice, a room under the roof of a man who has never liked him, and has been supporting Ralph's paltry finances. It is a man's obligation to provide for his family but Charlie is the only one doing so.
He is in this country only for his family's sake. To attempt to give Alice the happiness she claims he denies her, the sole reason she gave for leaving him.
He hates that no matter what he does it doesn't seem to be enough. He hates that he increasingly has to berate her, watch her, suspect her, because ever since they got to India she's been more sullen and disrespectful to him. He hates that she flaunts herself, like that incident at the fashion show, and he hates most of all that she spends far too long talking with Aafrin Dalal.
He hates how Alice drives him to lose control. She is his wife, Percy is his child, and he does not deserve to be treated so poorly. It is a man's responsibility to prevent his wife from humiliating her family. It is a husband's duty to stop her from straying. It would be easier, was easier, back home, away from Ralph's smug encouragement of Alice's rebellious nature, and the sense of revolution in the air.
The longing for England is almost painful some days, a dull ache that no amount of whisky can soothe.
England is where they were happy. Where he met and married Alice. Where their child was born and where he will be raised.
He takes comfort in the thought that the summer days are drawing to a close, his contract will finish, and he and Alice and Percy will go home. Together, as she promised when he agreed to take the job at the bank. Though he's spent every day since Alice's return three years ago making sure to paint her as an unfit parent, lest she try to run again. The courts would have no hesitation in ensuring he is the sole parent of their child. She surely will not dare to abandon him again.
He strums his fingers across the strings of his banjolele. They will return to England in mere weeks. Summer is almost at its end, and it cannot come soon enough.