Amitav Ghosh - The Glass Palace

‘I’m glad to see you’

‘I’m glad to see you too, sir.’

‘You’re wounded — what happened?’

‘Bullet through the hamstring, sir. It’ll be all right. And how’s your arm?’

‘Been acting up a bit.’

‘Do you think you’re well enough to walk, sir?’

Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’ He glanced sharply at the cloth bundle and the water bottle that Arjun was carrying in his hands. ‘What have you got there, Roy?’

‘Some food and water, sir. The Japanese are advancing down the north — south highway. If you head in the other direction you should be able to get across the lines.’

‘Get across the lines?’ Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland repeated this slowly to himself. ‘Am I going alone then? What about you? And the others?’

‘We’re staying here, sir. For the moment.’

‘I see.’ Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland rose to his feet, holding his right arm stiffly across his chest. He took the water bottle from Arjun and examined it, turning it over in his hands. ‘So you’re going over, are you — to the Japs?’

‘That’s not how I would put it, sir.’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t.’ Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland looked at Arjun closely, frowning.

‘You know Roy,’ he said at last. ‘You, I never took for a turncoat. Some of the others, yes — you could see where the possibility might lie. But you: you don’t have the look of a traitor.’

‘Some would say that I’ve been a traitor all along, sir.’ ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’ Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland shook his head. ‘In fact you don’t believe any of it.’

‘Sir?’

‘You don’t. Or else you wouldn’t be here, bringing me food and water. Only an incompetent soldier would help an enemy escape. Or a fool.’

‘I felt I had to, sir.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ said Arjun, ‘it’s not your fault, sir. You’ve always been fair to us. You were the best CO we could have hoped for — under the circumstances.’

‘I suppose you expect me to thank you for saying that?’ ‘I don’t expect anything, sir.’ Arjun held the door open. ‘But if you don’t mind, sir, there’s not much time. I’ll show you the way.’

Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland stepped out and Arjun followed him. They went down the steps and into the trees. When they were a little distance away, Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland cleared his throat. ‘Look, Roy,’ he said. ‘It’s not too late. You can still change your mind. Come away with me. We can give them the slip. We’ll forget about this. . this incident.’

A moment passed before Arjun answered. ‘Sir, may I say something?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Sir, do you remember when you were teaching at the academy — you once quoted someone in one of your lectures. An English general — Munro, I think his name was. You quoted something he’d said over a hundred years ago about the Indian army: The spirit of independence will spring up in this army long before it is even thought of among the people . .’

Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland nodded: ‘Yes. I remember that. Very well.’

‘All of us in the class were Indians and we were a little shocked that you’d chosen to quote something like this to us. We insisted that Munro had been talking nonsense. But you disagreed. .’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes. At the time I thought you were playing devil’s advocate; that you were just trying to provoke us. But that wasn’t true, was it, sir? The truth is you knew all along: you knew what we’d do — you knew it before we did. You knew because you made us. If I were to come away with you now no one would be more surprised than you. I think, in your heart, you would despise me a little.’

‘That’s rubbish, Roy. Don’t be a fool, man. There’s still time.’

‘No, sir.’ Arjun brought himself to a halt and held out his hand. ‘I think this is it, sir. This is where I’m going to turn round.’

Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland looked at his hand and then at him. ‘I’m not going to shake your hand, Roy,’ he said quietly, in an even, emotionless voice. ‘You can justify what you’re doing to yourself in a thousand different ways, but you should make no mistake about the truth, Roy. You’re a traitor. You’re a disgrace to the regiment and to your country. You’re scum. When the time comes you’ll be hunted down, Roy. When you’re sitting in front of a court-martial I’ll be there. I’ll see you hang, Roy. I will. You should have not a moment’s doubt of that.’

Arjun dropped his hand. For the first time in many days he felt completely certain of his mind. He smiled.

‘There’s one thing you can be sure of, sir,’ he said. ‘On that day, if it comes, you’ll have done your duty, sir, and I’ll have done mine. We’ll look at each other as honest men — for the first time. For that alone this will have been worthwhile.’

He saluted, balancing on his crutch. For an instant, Lieutenant-Colonel Buckland hesitated and then, involuntarily, his hand rose to acknowledge the salute. He turned on his heel and walked into the trees.

Arjun watched him leave and then he swung himself round on his crutch and went hobbling back to the coolie lines.

Alison had been driving for about an hour when she noticed that the Daytona’s pedals were growing hot under her feet. She began to watch the bonnet and caught sight of leaking wisps of steam. She pulled off the road, and when her grandfather turned to look at her, she flashed him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s all right, Baba,’ she said, ‘don’t worry. It’ll just take a minute.’ She left him sitting inside and climbed out.

With the car at a standstill, she could see steam leaking through the grille. The bonnet was too hot to touch. She wrapped her scarf around her hand and felt under the hood for the catch. A geyser of steam gushed into her face and she sprang back, coughing.

It was very dark. She reached through the window on the driver’s side and turned the headlights on. She spotted a branch, lying on the ground, near her feet. She used it to lever up the hood and a cloud of steam welled out. She propped the bonnet open and went back to the driver’s window to turn the headlights off.

‘It won’t be long, Baba,’ she said. ‘We’ll just wait a while.’ To the north, she could see flashes of light. On the highway the flow of traffic had dwindled to an occasional speeding car. She had the feeling that she was among the last on the road; those who’d planned to leave were long gone and everyone else was waiting to see what would happen next.

The night was cool and it wasn’t long before the steam from the radiator dissipated. She wrapped her hand in the scarf again and unscrewed the cap. Then she fetched a bottle and poured in some water: it boiled up almost immediately, frothing over the top. She splashed some water over the radiator and waited a while longer before pouring the rest in. Slamming the hood shut, she went back to the driver’s seat.

She gave her grandfather a smile. ‘It’s all right now,’ she said. ‘We’ll be fine.’

She turned the key and was hugely relieved when the engine responded. Switching on the headlamps she pulled on to the road again. No other cars had passed them in a while. With the road to herself, she was tempted to drive at high speed. She had to remind herself that she had to go slowly if the car was not to overheat.

They’d gone only a few miles when the engine started to knock. She knew now that there was no point trying to go any further. At the next turn she pulled off the main road. She was on a dusty side road, little more than a gravelled track. On both sides, there were stands of rubber: she felt obscurely grateful for this, glad to be in a familiar environment.