Amitav Ghosh - Flood of Fire

She inclined her head slightly, to give Zachary a perfunctory nod: the gesture was not so much a greeting as a sign of dismissal. Then, turning her shoulder on him, she resumed her conversation.

The snub stunned Zachary: he turned on his heels quickly, to hide his flaming cheeks, and shambled off in the other direction. As he was making his retreat he heard her say, in a piercing whisper: ‘I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him, Augusta dear, but I can’t for the life of me remember his name. Anyway it doesn’t signify — he’s a nobody, just one of Mr Burnham’s mysteries.’

‘A mystery, is he? From the smell of him, I’d have taken him for a druggerman.’

‘Whatever made the Doughties think of asking him?’

‘Really, I must have a word with them — they’ll be inviting the malis and moochies next.’

It was all that Zachary could do not to clap his hands over his ears: if a whip had landed on his back it could not have had a harsher sting.

To remain in that room another minute was more than he could bear. Giving Mr Doughty the slip he headed straight for the door. But as he was picking up his hat he threw a glance over his shoulder — and at exactly that moment Mrs Burnham’s eyes happened to look in his direction. Their eyes met for only an instant but it was enough for her gaze to lodge in his head like an anchor-fluke.

*

For several weeks after Shireen’s visit to Bassein there was no word from Zadig Bey: knowing that he was due to leave for Colombo soon, she began to wonder whether she would see him again before his departure.

As the days went by this question assumed an urgency that confused Shireen: it seemed shameful to her that her mind should dwell so much on this subject. She tried to persuade herself that it was only because of his connection with Bahram that Zadig figured so often in her thoughts; sometimes she told herself that his entry into her life was a sign; that Bahram himself had sent his friend to her, to open a window at the darkest hour of her life, to let a breath of air into the hushed gloom of her existence.

Had she been able to think of a way to contact Zadig directly, Shireen might have done so. But her only means of reaching him was through Vico, and she fought shy of raising the subject with him.

A month went by and when there was still no word from Zadig, Shireen assumed that he had already left. So her surprise was all the greater when Vico came by to say that Zadig Bey had asked to meet with her, to take his leave.

Through Vico it was arranged that they would again meet at the Catholic church at Mazagon. When the day came Shireen set off early and arrived several minutes before the appointed hour. To her surprise Zadig was already there, sitting in the same place where they’d sat before.

He rose as she approached and bowed formally: ‘Good morning,

Bibiji.’

‘Good morning, Zadig Bey.’

She seated herself beside him, on the pew, and slipped off her veil. ‘So you are leaving Bombay are you, Zadig Bey?’

‘Yes, Bibiji,’ he said, a little awkwardly. ‘Christmas is coming so I must go to Colombo to be with my children and grandchildren. But before leaving I wanted to give you some news.’

‘Yes, Zadig Bey — what is it?’

‘I have been told in confidence,’ said Zadig Bey, ‘that the decision to send an expeditionary force to China has been taken in London, by Lord Palmerston, the Foreign Secretary. It is from India that the expedition will be launched: half the troops will be sepoys, and much of the money and support will also come from here. Apparently the preparations are already under way, in Calcutta, in secret. The planning started some months ago, but only when everything is ready will it be announced to the public.’

‘How do you know this?’ said Shireen.

‘Bibiji, I’m sure you know that William Jardine, the big China trader, is the principal partner of Seth Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, the Parsi merchant?’

‘Yes, of course I am aware of that.’

‘Well, William Jardine has been helping Lord Palmerston with the planning of the expedition. I have just learnt that he has written to Seth Jamsetjee, asking for the support of the merchants of Bombay. He has made it clear that one of the expedition’s principal goals is to extract compensation for the opium that was confiscated by Commissioner Lin — those who provide help will naturally be paid first.’

‘Oh?’ said Shireen. ‘So you think compensation will be paid after all?’

‘I am sure of it,’ said Zadig. ‘And as Bahram’s friend, I must tell you, Bibiji, that it is very important that your interests do not go unrepresented in the months ahead. Since you cannot send anyone to China you must go yourself. That is what Bahram-bhai would have wanted, I am sure of it.’

Shireen sighed. ‘Zadig Bey, you must understand that for a woman and a widow it is very difficult to make such a journey.’

‘Bibiji! European women travel in ships all the time. You are educated, you speak English, you are the daughter of Seth Rustamjee Mistrie who built some of the finest ships to sail the ocean. Why should it be difficult for you to go?’

‘And if I did go to China, where would I stay?’

‘I have friends in Macau. I will write to them to find a place for you to rent.’

Shireen shook her head. ‘But there are many other practical problems, Zadig Bey. How will I finance such a journey? How will I buy a passage? All I have is some jewellery that I’d hidden away — Bahram left nothing but debts, you know.’

Zadig wagged a finger to signal his disagreement. ‘That is not true, Bibiji — Bahram-bhai was very generous to his friends and he left behind many things. With me for instance.’

‘What do you mean? What has he left with you?’

‘Over the years he gave me many presents and did me many favours. In the flow of life, these things too are like loans. Since you are his widow, it is only right that I should discharge those debts by paying for your passage.’

A startled blush rose to Shireen’s cheeks. ‘Zadig Bey, that was not what I meant. I couldn’t possibly accept money from you.’

‘Why not?’ said Zadig insistently. ‘It would be merely a repayment of my debts to Bahram-bhai. Not even that — it would be an investment, rather. When you reclaim Bahram-bhai’s dues, you can pay me back. With ten per cent interest if you like.’

Shireen shook her head. ‘That’s all very well, Zadig Bey — but what will I tell my family? They will want to know where the money came from.’

‘Tell them the truth. Tell them you had some jewellery hidden away and you’ve decided to sell it. That’s all they need to know.’

Shireen began to fidget with the hem of her sari. ‘Zadig Bey — you don’t understand. Money is only one small part of the problem. I also have to consider my family’s name and reputation. There will be a huge scandal if people hear that I’m thinking of going to China — a widow, travelling alone! The Parsi Panchayat may even expel me from the community. And I have to think of my daughters too. They’ll worry about my safety.’

Zadig scratched his chin pensively. ‘Bibiji — I too have been thinking about these matters and a solution has occurred to me. As you know, Vico’s cousin Rosa has spent some time in Macau. While she was there she worked in the Misericordía, which is a Catholic charity that runs hospitals and orphanages. The sisters have asked her to return and she is keen to do so but cannot afford the fare. She will gladly travel with you if her passage can be arranged and paid for. I have spoken to her about this. Your family cannot object to your going if you have a companion with you, can they?’

Instead of calming Shireen, this cast her into despair. ‘A passage for Rosa!’ She struck her forehead with her hand. ‘But Zadig Bey, how could I possibly make all these arrangements? It’s too difficult — I can’t do it on my own.’