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I now was ready to begin work under Mac.who would drive down from Downside which was only about 3 miles away in his Land Rover  in a cloud of dust, screech his brakes to a halt,  and then  give me quick fire orders of what duties he  would want carried out. When Mac was around everyone was at the double, breathlessly responding to his energy. He would come into the office where our young Head Clerk Mr Albert Thomas a  South Indian Christian, would have a pile of papers, or a sheaf of cheques that required signing. A cigarette was once again in his lips as he worked his way through the pile of correspondence  to George Steuarts, other companies etc. etc. When the cigarette was over he would once again search through the piles of bumf for his cigarette case and then tap his chest and pockets to find his lighter. As he went through briefly glancing at each letter he would scrawl a signature that was indecipherable in its mass of loops and squiggles. One day he smiled at me and told me a story of a planter who received a letter from his company starting “ Dear Sir, We are most surprised and extremely sorry to receive your letter today tendering your resignation. We always had the impression that you really enjoyed your billet and your departure comes as a shock etc etc”. The man was furious and made inquiries as he had never thought of  leaving his good job. It turned out that recently he had had words with   his Head  Clerk who had typed out his letter of resignation to the company, and stuck it in the middle of a huge  pile of letters awaiting signature and which he never read. Now he had to write and apologise to his company for his gross oversight. Luckily he still managed to keep his job. 
In the months of March and April  and early May, were what was called the “intermonsoon” period. At the end of March the sun was now directly overhead at mid day with a burning searing heat. I would rise early at about 5.30 am to the sight of the most gloriously vivid fiery sunrises with the Namunakula mountain silhouetted black against the red and orange glows. Then I would walk  down in the cool of the dew to  the sound of the mynah birds singing in the warm dawn sunshine  amid the orange dadap flowers to have “ muster” with the men under a mango tree below the bungalow. There I would meet Taylor the Eurasian “conductor” who was like a senior NCO in charge of all the field works. Gangs of ten or twenty men would be detailed  by him  for pruning, forking, logging or whatever . I would then have to go with them to start them off, and return periodically to check on the progress of the work. The men liked to start the hard work early and end off about 1 or 2 pm. as by then they were really suffering under the bright sun. The women pluckers in contrast would start a bit later and have a midday break and then continue till 4 pm.  I would normally go out with the men, and then return for breakfast when I would then take the car to the other division and then walk. By midday in those months the sky would start to billow with small  cumulo-nimbus clouds, and then about 2 pm  a storm would break. Great black clouds would rise up the Uma Oya valley  and the factory and the blue jacaranda tree would be silhouetted against a black curtain  of rain  with forked lightning and violent thunderclaps adding to the drama. The rain would pelt down in huge droplets and in the space of half an hour a half to one inch of rain would fall. Then just as suddenly it would all clear, the sun would return and the tea fields would take on a golden look in the evening light with the pale yellow shoots or “flush” standing up above the bushes.

I wield the flail of lashing hail.                                                           And whiten the green plains under,                                                    And then again I dissolve it in rain,                                        And laugh as I pass in thunder…...                                                                                         
I am the daughter of earth and  water,
And the nursling of the sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and the sunbeams with their convex    gleams
Build up the dome of the air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I rise and build it again.                       (Shelley)
Needless to say with weather like that  the growth was phenominal. Vast amounts of artificial fertiliser would be spread before this period to encourage the bushes to perform to their maximum efficiency. The pluckers loved this period as they were paid a basic wage plus “overpoundage” and as there was quick growth, an adept and nimble teaplucker could easily double their wages. The quality of the leaf though was poor due to the overfast growth, and prices for these teas were low in comparison with normal periods, and only a tenth of the price a couple of months  later when the dry weather winds would start and slow growth right down.

Mac treated me very much like his son. Under his impetuous exterior he was an exceedingly kind but a sad and lonely  man. He had been reared in the small village of Port Soy in Banffshire from very poor parents who struggled like so many at the turn of the century to make ends meet. His childhood love was Zina the daughter of the local shopkeeper, who was from a well to do family  in comparison with his. Although she was fond of him, his poverty kept them apart and so like so many Scots before him he seized the opportunity at the end of the First World War to seek an opening in the colonies. He had joined a ship in the merchant navy as an engineering apprentice and during the 4 years that he was at sea he had often stopped at Colombo and was intrigued at the openings being offered in the plantation industry, particularly in the rapidly expanding planting of rubber, a business that was dominated by Scottish companies operating in the Low Country of Ceylon. Soon he had proved himself  as a hard resolute worker, in the  steamy  places such as the Kelani Valley, Ratnapura, and Rakwana  a harsh testing ground if ever there was one. His work  came to the notice of Jack Mitchell a professional Visiting Agent who was also visiting Downside on behalf of the owner the French  Comte de Luppe, and for Father who had been over looking the property. Mac was installed in the late twenties as assistant to Father and quickly set about expanding the business, planting more land and getting the new Downside factory built. At last in 1930 he was able to return on  leave to Scotland , now well off in a good position in a lovely part of the island, and finally propose and marry Zina. He was able to offer her a fine and prosperous home that he had achieved through hard work but tragically when she came out, she never took to the life in Ceylon. First she had a seriously bad child birth resulting in its loss, with all the resulting traumas. But a few years later she was successful  and gave birth  to two lovely red haired daughters in fairly quick succession. After the war with the children

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