Amitav Ghosh - Flood of Fire

Zachary drained his brandy and poured himself another: ‘I was twelve or thirteen I guess.’

‘And did the symptoms manifest themselves spontaneously? Or was the infection transmitted by another victim?’

Zachary swallowed a mouthful of brandy. ‘My friend Tommy showed me.’

Mrs Burnham’s pencil flew across the notebook. When it came to a stop she cleared her throat. ‘And may I ask, Mr Reid, if you are a stranger to that … that act which Divine Providence has intended to be consecrated to the purposes of procreation?’

Zachary cleared his throat. ‘If you’re asking whether I’ve ever been with a woman, the answer is yes.’

‘And how old were you, may I ask, when you were first intimate with a woman?’

He tossed off his brandy and poured more, for both of them. ‘Maybe sixteen?’

‘And who was she?’

‘A ladybird, if you must know.’

‘You mean … a woman of the streets?’

He gave a derisive snort. ‘More like a woman of the house — a bawdy-house, that is.’

‘And have you visited those often, Mr Reid?’

‘Four or five times — I’m not sure.’

‘I see.’ She paused to take a deep breath. ‘And are those the only women with whom you have … fornicated?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mr Reid.’ She cleared her throat and took a sip of brandy. ‘Mr Reid — it is really important that you be candid with me.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Mrs Burnham. I have been as candid with you as it is possible to be.’

She frowned in reproof. ‘Mr Reid — I know that is not true.’

He answered with an angry glare. ‘How can you possibly say that? You don’t know nothin about me.’

‘Please, Mr Reid,’ she persisted. ‘I urge you to reflect and to be frank with me. Were I to ask if you had ever seduced and compromised a young, innocent girl, would you be able to deny it, in good conscience?’

‘Yes, you’re darn right I would,’ Zachary shot back. ‘I’ve never done nothin of that kind.’

‘But I happen to know otherwise, Mr Reid. I know for a fact that you have ravished at least one unfortunate young woman.’

This incensed him. ‘It is not a fact, Mrs Burnham, because it ain true! I never ravished no one.’

‘But what if I were to inform you, Mr Reid, that it was from the victim herself that I learnt of this? And in this very room at that.’

‘I tell you there is no victim!’ Zachary cried. ‘I don’t know who you could be thinking of.’

Looking steadily into his eyes, Mrs Burnham said: ‘Paulette Lambert. Can you deny that you have seduced and violated that sweet innocent girl?’

Zachary’s mouth fell open and he stared at her in disbelief, temporarily bereft of words. ‘That’s impossible,’ he spluttered. ‘Paulette could not have said anything like that. It’s not possible.’

‘But she did. I heard it from her own lips. In this very room.’

‘And what exactly did she say?’

‘I will tell you, Mr Reid: it happened last year, when Paulette was living with us. I had summoned her here in order to inform her that Mr Justice Kendalbushe was desirous of suing for her hand in marriage. I will not conceal from you that I was eager for her to accept. I had grown exceedingly fond of Paulette in the short time that she spent with us. I knew that if she accepted the judge’s offer she would remain nearby, and the tender companionship that she and I had come to enjoy would be preserved and prolonged. But it was not to be: despite all my dumbcowings Paulette was adamant in her refusal — so much so that my suspicions were aroused. I asked if she had lost her heart to another. She did not deny it, so I asked if the chuckeroo in question was you — and again she did not deny it. My suspicions were further inflamed by this, so I asked if she had compromised herself with you. Again she did not deny it: to the contrary she confirmed to me that she was … with child!’

‘Impossible,’ protested Zachary. ‘Mrs Burhnam, I am not a stranger to the act of procreation, as I have said, and I can assure you that nothing like that transpired between Paulette and me.’

‘I am sorry, Mr Reid,’ she retorted, ‘but I am sure you will admit that it is impossible to give any credence to the word of someone such as yourself, a chokra of acknowledged lewdness, who thinks nothing of “polishing the pin” in full view of the riverfront — a man so lacking in self-control as to be aroused, in a public place, by a woman who is almost twice his age!’

‘Oh come, Mrs Burnham,’ he said weakly. ‘Surely you are not twice my age?’

‘If I were three times your age, I doubt that it would make any difference to a budmash as wayward as yourself!’ Mrs Burnham’s voice rose: ‘Let me tell you, Mr Reid, that from the day Paulette ran away from this house I knew that you were to blame for her disappearance. I did not doubt for a minute that she had run off to give birth to your bastard child. If I have not revealed this to anyone, even my own husband, it is because I did not wish to add to her shame — but you may be sure that I did not intend for it to pass without retribution either. From the day you arrived here I have been determined to make you see the error of your ways, and to make restitution for what you have done to Paulette.’

Mrs Burnham’s manner had grown increasingly heated as she was speaking and two bright spots of colour had appeared on her cheeks. The fraying of her composure had a strangely calming effect on Zachary, and when she fell silent he took a moment or two to think of how best to persuade her of the absolute groundlessness of her conjectures.

‘You are certainly right about one thing, Mrs Burnham,’ he said at length, in a level tone. ‘It is true that I felt very powerfully drawn to Paulette, from the moment of our first meeting, on the Ibis , last year. But we were alone together only a couple of times and all our meetings ended badly, with quarrels and arguments. And yes, once there was a kiss, but that was all. I even asked her to marry me one time, but she wouldn’t hear of it. As for being seduced or compromised by me, that would be laughable if it were not offensive. She was never in the least danger of that. If she was with child, it certainly wasn’t because of me …’

Here, suddenly, a thought occurred to him that made the words wither on his lips.

He sat back and looked up at the ceiling, fingering his chin, as ideas and possibilities raced through his mind.

‘What is it, Mr Reid?’

Lowering his gaze, he saw that she had put her notebook aside and was leaning forward in her chair, watching him with an expression of the most intense curiosity. This sent a thrill of satisfaction through him; it was as if there had been a sudden shift in the balance between them, as happens on a ship at the change of watch, when the powers of command are transferred from one officer to another.

‘Oh it’s nothing, Mrs Burnham,’ he said, making a pretence of off-handedness. ‘Just a thought that came into my mind.’

‘What is it? Please tell me.’

He paused to savour the note of supplication in her voice. ‘I don’t know if I should, Mrs Burnham,’ he said.

‘But why not?’

‘That’s the thing, Mrs Burnham: this isn’t about me and Paulette. It concerns you too and may cause you great distress.’

Mrs Burnham’s eyes dropped. ‘Mr Reid,’ she said, in a dry, taut voice, ‘tell me …’ — it was she who now had to pause to mop her face — ‘tell me, is it something to do with … with my husband?’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

She clasped her hands and pressed them to her chest. ‘Mr Reid, you must speak. I need to know.’

Her tone was one of entreaty, all trace of her former imperious-ness having now disappeared. It seemed hardly possible that this was the same woman who a short while before had been issuing veiled threats, in a voice of steely command.