Waiting for the Monsoon (4 page)

On the other end of the line someone began to talk very fast.

“Yes, the big house on the hill,” Charlotte said. “Come by when you have time.”

ON THE QUAY
Mathilda waves to her daughter, Charlotte, who is standing at the railing far above her. The little girl does not wave back.

“I'll write to you every week!” her mother calls.

Charlotte keeps her lips pressed tightly together.

“And don't open your birthday present until the day itself, promise?”

The box, which her mother handed to her just before she boarded, is on the bed in her cabin. She threw the doll — which has real hair and a white dress — into the corner so hard that the head broke off. The ship's horn sounds and a thick cloud of black smoke rises from the smokestack.

Charlotte feels the ship start to move. She clutches the railing with both hands and looks at her mother, who is waving vigorously. She can't hear her voice because of the horn blaring out its farewell.

“Oh, there you are!” An older lady with a shawl in her hand comes over to her. “Where were you? I couldn't find you anywhere. I don't want you to leave the cabin without my permission.” The lady puts her hand on the girl's shoulder. She is still staring at her mother in the distance, still silent. “Go ahead and cry if you want to. Everyone cries the first time. I've seen children try to climb over the railing, but the captain stopped them by shutting them up in a cabin at the bottom of the ship. He didn't let them go until Bombay was out of sight.” The woman starts to wave her shawl. Charlotte sees her mother take out a handkerchief and start to wave even more vigorously. “You can call me Auntie Ilse. Come on now, wave to your mother. You see? She's waving, too. When you say goodbye, you're supposed to wave. Come on now, wave!”

Charlotte grasps the railing even more tightly; the horn is bawling its farewells and the ship is starting to move. The passengers around her call out, “See you soon,” “Goodbye,” and “Until next year.”

The woman she's supposed to call Auntie Ilse drops her arm. “Well, if you're not going to wave, then neither am I. I don't even know your mother. Come along, we're going to get something to eat.” She walks in the direction of the dining room, but Charlotte remains at the railing. “If you're going to act this way the whole time, I'll have to ask the captain to lock you up somewhere in the bottom of the ship.” Charlotte lets go of the railing and follows Auntie Ilse.

Down on the quay, Mathilda is crying.

~~~

IT'S DARK OUTSIDE
.
Charlotte opens the door and looks into the corridor. There's no one there. Quickly she slips out of the cabin. She's holding a bundle in her hand. She runs up the stairs and pushes open the heavy door. It's quiet on the promenade deck. Everyone's in the huge auditorium, where they're showing a movie that Auntie Ilse doesn't want her to see. She walks along the railing in the direction of the stern, where she sees the English flag waving. Today is her birthday. At breakfast the people at her table sang “Happy Birthday.” The chef brought out a cake with six candles on it, and she had to blow them out all at once, which she did, and then Auntie Ilse gave her a scarf she had in her suitcase and after dinner she was allowed to see the wheelhouse but she didn't enjoy that because the captain was there too and she was afraid he'd lock her up in the bottom of the ship if she did anything wrong. She walks toward the stern, clutching the bundle to her chest. Two sailors are standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs, smoking a cigarette, but they don't notice her. There's no one on the afterdeck. She walks over to the railing and looks down. Far beneath her, the sea is foaming. The water is white, and by the light of the moon she can make out the trail they leave behind.

“Shouldn't you be in bed?”

She gives a start and turns around. There's a man standing behind her, his black hair waving in the wind.

“Or did you think the film was scary, too?”

Charlotte shakes her head.

“What's your name? I'm Ganesh, named after the god with the head of an elephant. I'm lucky I didn't get such a long nose.” He laughs.

“My name is Charlotte Elizabeth, just like my grandmother who's dead.”

“Oh, that's too bad! Do you miss her?”

“No. I never met her.”

Ganesh squats down and looks out to sea with her. A gull dives into the water and comes up with something in its beak.

“She walked over a mountain with my grandfather and our big clock, then she got an infection on her foot because it was so cold that they couldn't stop to rest. They had to keep walking and her whole foot went black and had to be cut off, otherwise she'd die. But then she died anyway, but my father didn't cry.”

“You come from an adventurous family. Too bad I can't say the same about mine. For centuries they've lived in the same little town at the foot of the Himalayas. I'm the first person in my family to travel.”

“Why?”

“I got a scholarship to study in England, so I can become an engineer.”

“I have to go to school, too. A boarding school, because I'm six.”

“Are you really that old?”

Charlotte nods her head fiercely. “I'm travelling alone,” she says firmly. “And I didn't cry.”

“That's brave of you. I did.”

“Did your father let you cry?”

“No, but I did it in secret.”

“All alone?”

Ganesh nods.

“I sometimes cry when I'm alone, but nobody knows,” Charlotte says softly.

“I won't tell anybody,” Ganesh whispers and locks his lips with an imaginary key.

Charlotte smiles.

“Why are you up this late?”

The smile disappears from her face. Again she presses the bundle to her body and looks out to sea.

Ganesh waits.

“I have to bury her.”

“Who?”

Charlotte opens up the cloth that holds the doll with the broken neck.

“Are you going to throw her into the ocean?”

Charlotte nods. “Auntie Ilse says that if I die at sea, they'll put me on a plank and throw me into the sea, because otherwise I'll start to smell and the other people will get sick.”

“She could be repaired.”

“No.”

“Do you want me to try?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Charlotte shakes her head but gives the doll to Ganesh, who gingerly takes it from her.

“What a lovely doll.”

“It's a stupid doll.”

“She has real hair.”

“She's stupid.”

Ganesh examines the broken doll. “Shall I try to fix her?”

Charlotte doesn't reply.

“If it doesn't work, then tomorrow we can drop her into the sea, together, with a real wooden plank. But if we manage to fix her, then you can give her a name. A really pretty name.”

“What's a pretty name?”

“Maybe something like Khushi. That means ‘happiness.'”

HE IS FRIGHTENED
Very, very frightened. William Bridgwater, a young and ambitious road builder who comes from a family of teachers in Ipswich, has made the mistake of his life. He has fallen in love with Elizabeth Charlotte Elphinstone, daughter of the wealthy director of the New Indian Railway, and she with him. They are not just in love, they are head-over-heels in love. For more than six months they have taken advantage of each and every opportunity to meet in secret. The garden of her house is walled, but among the bushes at the back there is a small opening, which William has enlarged. Elizabeth is not allowed to leave the house on her own, since her father is afraid of assaults by members of the Afridi tribe, who continue to oppose British plans to build a railroad through the mountains. Last night, as the first snow of the season was falling on the tents of the railway workers, Elizabeth Elphinstone stood in front of the opening in the wall, showed him her belly, and announced that she was pregnant.

William doesn't get a wink of sleep. The tent that he shares with another engineer stands on the edge of their encampment. After breakfast he writes a letter to his parents telling them that he is going on a long journey. After pushing the letter through the opening in the red box that serves as a mail pickup, he makes it known that he will be away on business for several days. He then leaves the camp, carrying a suitcase. Once outside, he makes his way through the bushes to the path leading to the garden behind Elizabeth Elphinstone's house. He doesn't want to be seen with a suitcase.

Near the opening in the wall he sees a boy with a standing clock. William gives a start. All those months he had managed to avoid her overprotective father and today, of all days, he's been discovered. The boy sees William and raises his hand. Only then does he see that it's Elizabeth.“Are you ready?”

She nods.

“Are you sure you're not going to regret this?”

She shakes her head; a wayward curl escapes from under her heavy cap.

William pushes the curl back under the cap and strokes her cheek with his finger. “Come, shall we be off?”

Elizabeth points to the clock.

William looks at her in astonishment.

“It's the only object of value I have.”

“A clock! We can't take a standing clock with us.”

“Well, you told me to take my valuables with me. This clock was a present from my grandfather.”

“Don't you have a necklace, or a ring or something?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “All I have is this clock. And my belly.”

William looks at the clock in desperation. It's taller than Elizabeth herself.

“If I can't take my clock along, then I'm not going,” she says firmly.

“But how?”

She points to the hole in the wall. Following her gaze, William sees a bicycle among the bushes.

“It's stuck,” Elizabeth says.

“But a bicycle isn't big enough to carry a grandfather clock.”

“It's a tandem.”

William starts to pull. There's a sharp crack, a large chunk of stone breaks away from the wall, and he falls flat on his back in the snow, tandem and all.

~~~

He pulls the
blanket over her. It's cold and dark. The icy wind blows more and more snow onto the mountain.

“Are you hungry?”

Elizabeth nods. William pulls a piece of chocolate out of his coat pocket and gives it to her. They don't speak. They're too tired and too cold. William kisses her softly on the mouth. She kisses him back. He can taste the chocolate on her cold lips. They huddle close together.

“If only we could make a fire,” Elizabeth whispers.

William points to the clock, which is firmly tied to the side of the bicycle with two ropes.

“No, not the clock. It's for Victor.”

“Victor?”

“That's his name,” she says, and puts both hands on her stomach.

IT IS STILL DARK.
William pushes the handlebars of the bicycle while Elizabeth pushes on the back. The clock is on the left and the suitcase on the right. William wants to get past Fort Maude before it gets light. It's been calm there ever since Afridi tribesmen set it on fire and the British army left, but his mind is still not entirely at rest. The highest point of the pass is now in front of them. Elizabeth sings lullabies softly and William gives thanks to the Lord for this woman. Tonight, when they get to Jamrud, he'll see to it that she has a warm bath and a warm bed. He'll make sure that the mother-to-be wants for nothing. He knows a hotel where they can have a good meal.

It starts to snow again. The wind is stronger and fiercer now, blowing the swirling flakes through the opening between the mountain walls. They trudge on, without speaking, the clock and the suitcase between them.

THE STORM RAGES
through the pass. Slowly, they plow their way forward. Again and again the tandem comes to a dead stop in the snow. Together they manage to push it forward. They pause, and while Elizabeth beats her arms against her sides, trying to create a bit of warmth, William tightens the ropes around the suitcase and the clock.

“The clock is the future,” she whispers in his ear.

It's firewood
, thinks William.

From the top of the pass, where the icy wind has blown the snow from the road, it is all downhill. They attempt to get on the bicycle, but it proves impossible with the clock and the suitcase already on it.

ELIZABETH ELPHINSTONE IS
running a high fever. She's lying in a small attic room in the house of an old coppersmith, who doesn't speak a word of English. They spent three days in a hotel, but the owner became more and more curious about Elizabeth's condition. William had to find someone who was willing to help them. The new room is small and has no windows, but it is warm and dry.

Elizabeth has not eaten in days. Nothing but a little tea and the soup that William feeds her. The clock stands in the corner of the room. William hates the clock. If it weren't for the clock, they could have navigated the pass more quickly, and Elizabeth wouldn't have fallen ill. The clock strikes twice. William brings a spoonful of lukewarm soup to her mouth. Suddenly her face is contorted.

“Don't you want any more soup?”

She shakes her head and tries to speak.

William puts his ear close to her mouth.

“It's starting.”

“What's starting?”

“The baby.”

William looks at her in disbelief. Elizabeth nods weakly. He jumps up and calls out that he's going to get help, but before he reaches the door he runs back to the bed.

“What do you need?”

“You.”

“But I don't know anything about how babies are born. I'll ask the owner if he has a sister, a mother, someone who knows about babies.”