Fields of Gold

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘How?’ Ned frowned.

  ‘Finding a ship isn’t hard. It’s paying for it.’

  ‘I have money.’

  Now Robbie did look surprised.

  ‘Brent gave me some. Guilt money, probably.’

  ‘No, he wanted you gone, Ned. Don’t you see? He was even giving you the means to be gone.’ He gave a sound of despair. ‘He knew. He let you escape. And I think he let me escape too, but in the end sealing our fate – you to the unknown and me, well …’ His words trailed off.

  ‘I don’t care,’ Ned said. ‘We’re here now and we’re rid of him. Pull on this fresh shirt. It will be big but it’s clean. I’ve already changed. Bella, you need to put on this dress. You have to look more respectable.’

  ‘Over there.’ Robbie pointed to a stall where an old woman sat, presiding over her flowers.

  He guided them over and switched into Burmese, explaining that the little English girl needed to change and asking if, for modesty’s sake, she could change within the confines of the stall?

  The woman replied and Robbie interpreted for Ned. ‘She said buy something first. She’s seen you walking around most of the day and doesn’t want any trouble. Give me a few annas.’

  Robbie took the coins and gave them to the woman. She pointed over her shoulder but forbade the boys to go with Bella.

  ‘Bell, change into this frock. It’s your favourite, isn’t it?’

  She went without protest.

  ‘She looks exhausted,’ Ned said. ‘You don’t look so well yourself.’

  ‘Slight bellyache. I’ll be all right.’

  Bella emerged looking much better, and though her appearance wouldn’t have fooled a company of English women, Ned felt sure it would be convincing enough to the ship’s crew to get her aboard. He dipped his old shirt into some flower water and cleaned up her face. Robbie clambered into his fresh shirt.

  ‘Bell, look what I’ve brought,’ Ned said, holding out the book and smiling at her soft squeal of delight.

  Robbie peered at it.

  ‘The Jungle Book,’ she explained, and showed him. ‘What about the others?’

  ‘Oh, we can go back for those later,’ Ned said, diverting her. ‘I just brought this one for now. Ready?’

  His companions nodded. ‘Lead the way,’ he said to Robbie, trying not to notice that Bella was no longer concerned with her treat or the fact that they were headed to a ship. He inwardly begged that she would not fall ill now.

  As they turned, the old woman called out.

  ‘You didn’t take any flowers,’ Robbie explained. ‘Here,’ he said, picking a tiny single bloom of yellow flowers and handing them to Bella. ‘These are the national flower of Burma, called paduak. It is from the rosewood tree.’

  The woman gabbled at him and he thanked her.

  ‘It signifies love and romance, but also strength.’

  Bella blushed as she took the beautiful spray from Robbie. She looked over and found a brief smile for the old woman, who laughed and pointed.

  Bella tugged at Robbie’s arm. ‘What did she say?’ she asked.

  ‘She says she hopes you will always be happy,’ Robbie replied, but Ned suspected the woman had said something far less innocent.

  ‘Come on. To the ships,’ he said, glad that Bella was looking so much brighter, although he couldn’t work out what Robbie was thinking or why he was so pale; he looked even more worried than Ned felt. ‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ Ned pressed.

  ‘Sure,’ Robbie said, too abruptly, then walked away, expecting the Sinclairs to follow without any further question.

  16

  Ned had no choice but to defer to Robbie in the matter of which ships to approach. He needed Robbie’s language but mostly he was relying on their friend’s well-honed street instinct. Ned held Bell back with him beneath the shade of a tree and let Robbie roam for as long as it took up and down the busy docks, his keen eye absorbing all the detail. There was constant activity and it was more than an hour before Robbie’s willowy figure finally reappeared.

  ‘Anything?’ Ned asked, nervous.

  ‘I think so. A passenger ship called Aronda. It should be relatively comfortable. She makes regular trips to Madras, next one late this afternoon.’

  ‘We can get on?’

  Robbie nodded, then looked down. ‘Ned, it’s going to cost the equivalent of about a pound for each of us. I know Brent gave you money but you’re going to need it. You two go. Besides, I have no papers. I’ve already spoken —’

  ‘We’re all going, Robbie.’

  ‘Listen to me —’

  ‘No! I’m the eldest. I have the money. We use it all if we have to in order to get away from Rangoon for good. Money talks and we’ll get around papers. No one’s going to care about a kid. What happens after, we’ll see. We’ll work it out. But right now we’re all getting onto that ship. We move as one.’

  Robbie’s chin trembled a little. ‘All right, if you’re sure.’

  ‘We’re not leaving you behind.’

  The Anglo-Indian boy smiled but Ned saw only sadness there. ‘Then come. She leaves at six. The three pounds is a bribe and should get me on. I’m sorry. I had to promise the man a pound each. I said there’d be two of us but I don’t think one more will make any difference so long as we pay. I can probably travel as crew if he won’t let me bunk down in your cabin. It’s small but it will be private. They don’t normally sell it to passengers. It’s usually kept for staff.’

  Robbie had wangled them an inside berth on the ship. It was small, airless and cramped with twin single iron beds and just a tiny washbasin, but after the orphanage it was a palace and Bella immediately curled beneath the sheets and fell asleep, fully clothed.

  Ned was relieved that she was resting and locked her in the room, having scrawled her a note not to open the door for anyone. He had a key and was going on deck. She was to remain there until he returned, although she seemed to be sleeping so deeply he couldn’t imagine much would wake her. He headed up onto the deck to find Robbie.

  All Ned could focus on was being able to watch the ship pull away from shore. Only then would he begin to relax and accept that they had escaped Brent.

  There had been nearly two days of exhilaration at being back on a ship and out at sea. No rules, no regulations, no threat or fear. And while the pain of their parents’ passing was ever present, the joy of leaving Rangoon behind and all of its sorrows was irresistible.

  Ned didn’t even ask what Robbie had said to secure himself passage onboard without papers, but whatever he’d presented had worked and he was even sharing their cabin, more than happy to sleep on the floor and roundly arguing when Ned said they could take turns with the bed.

  They were eating with the second-class passengers and people hardly noticed the three unaccompanied youngsters, although Ned was beginning to believe that he no longer appeared quite so young. His plan to allow his beard to grow seemed to be working. He liked the beard and being addressed as Mr Sinclair. He was head of this family now and he would get Bell and Robbie to Bangalore or bust. That became their catch phrase those first two days at sea.

  Then the serious cramps began and the first bout of diarrhoea struck Robbie.

  Bella found Ned, as usual, up on deck staring out across the Andaman Sea that would soon become the Indian Ocean. He wasn’t interested in deck quoits or any of the fun onboard. He preferred to find a quiet spot and daydream about the future and how he was going to make a fortune in India and then take Bella and Robbie home to Scotland.

  ‘Hello, pretty girl.’ He wished he had brought her more clothes, although as precious as Bella could be, lack of clothes or toys had curiously not had much impact. He was saddened that his sister was being forced to grow up all too quickly. She was still tired and he wondered about the lasting effects of her heatstroke. But for now, given that the ship was serving ice-cream, he felt glad to have finally kept his promise to her. He noticed that her face was filled with anxie
ty as she came closer.

  ‘Quick, Ned. You have to come. It’s Robbie. He’s sick.’

  Ned ran a hand through his hair and could feel the salt thick in it. It was getting long enough to knot from the constant wind on deck. ‘What sort of sick?’

  She grabbed his hand to pull him along. ‘I don’t know but it’s bad. He’s groaning a lot. He’s been running to the bathroom but he says he won’t be able to make it soon. Now he’s begun to vomit.’

  Ned walked faster. ‘How long has he been like this?’

  ‘Since you left this morning.’

  He checked his mother’s watch that he kept in his pocket. ‘I’ve been here for over three hours,’ he said, realising he too had lost track of time.

  Ned began to jog to the bowels of the craft where their tiny cabin sat amidships and was assaulted by the smell of sickness and waste when he burst through the door.

  He gagged. ‘Wait outside!’ he ordered Bella, a familiar sense of dread returning to his heart. Another cautious look inside confirmed the worst; Robbie wasn’t just feeling sick, he was in trouble.

  ‘Bell, you must go and find one of the crew. I don’t care who, but find someone and bring them here as quickly as you can. No, darling, don’t cry. You have to be strong for Robbie now. He needs help and he needs it quickly. We need a doctor, tell them. Go, Bell. Run!’ And run she did.

  Ned let the door close and was at Robbie’s side, pulling a handkerchief to his face to keep out the smell. ‘Robbie,’ he began.

  Robbie turned his suddenly grey face to Ned. His lips were cracked. ‘Ned, you have to listen,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘It’s too late for me.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Robbie groaned wearily. ‘I know what this is. Don’t tell Bella. Don’t let her see me get worse. It will be over soon, I promise.’

  ‘Robbie, you don’t know what you’re saying.’

  ‘It’s cholera, Ned!’ he shouted, finding some sort of superhuman strength in his voice as he pushed Ned’s hands back.

  It worked. Ned instantly leapt back from Robbie as if burned.

  ‘Cholera?’ The very word felt dangerous to utter. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Just be still. You can’t catch it if you’re careful. But keep Bella away. You too must leave. Tell them to throw me overboard – they’ll insist anyway. I don’t care. Let them burn everything. Ned, stay strong.’

  Ned could feel his world shifting. Helpless tears – the ones he hadn’t even shed for his parents – were now welling and blurring his vision. ‘How did this happen?’

  ‘He wanted water. He was threatening Bella so I did it.’

  ‘What? Robbie, you’re not making sense. Let me get you some water. Is that what you want?’

  Robbie closed his eyes as pain hit him. It passed. He opened his eyes again, but they were bloodshot, rheumy, and his skin was dry and feverish. ‘Ned, I gave Brent unboiled water.’ He retched and began to vomit into a bowl. Ned looked away helplessly. The smell, the sound, they both made him nauseous. He pushed himself away to sit against the wall, his hands holding his head as he tried to make sense of this. He had left both Bella and Robbie sleeping soundly. How could Robbie be this sick in just hours?

  Robbie fell back exhausted. ‘You’d better get out of here.’

  ‘Finish it!’ Ned said. ‘I have to know.’

  Robbie sounded so weak, yet he obediently continued his tale. ‘Brent made me fetch his water, but not before he threatened me and Bella. I couldn’t stand it, Ned. I had to finally do something about him. He’s a monster.’ Robbie laughed but it sounded more like a cackle. ‘Except he was cleverer than I could ever be.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ned urged.

  ‘I had no choice,’ Robbie whispered. ‘It was the only way I could protect our secret … protect your sister.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s cholera, Ned. I’ve watched cholera take people. There’s nothing anyone can do.’ His head turned slowly to face Ned and he already looked shrunken like a corpse. ‘I’ll be dead within hours. Just get yourselves to Bangalore.’ He recited Dr Walker’s address. ‘Write it down somewhere, Ned. Promise me.’

  The door burst open with Bella and two crew members who instantly shrank back at the smell. ‘What the hell…?’

  Ned stood. ‘He says it’s cholera.’

  ‘Cholera! Get out of there. Are you sure?’

  Robbie began to cry. ‘Ned, did you write it down? Promise me.’

  ‘I won’t forget it, Robbie. I’ve committed it to memory, just as you did.’

  The crewman was yanking Ned away, yelling to his burly companion as he pointed at Bella. ‘Get that child out of here. And alert the ship’s doctor. We’ve got to let the captain know.’

  ‘What about Robbie?’ Bella shrieked as she was dragged away.

  Ned looked helplessly at the crewman.

  ‘I’m sorry, lad. We can’t take any chances here. Look at the mess he’s in.’

  Robbie had begun to vomit and soil himself again.

  ‘He’ll be dead before the hour is up. I’ve seen it before,’ the sailor said grimly. ‘Now, that was your sister?’

  Ned was so stunned he could do no more than nod.

  ‘Right, and your name’s Ned?’

  ‘Edward Sinclair. My sister is Arabella. This is Robert James.’

  ‘All right, lad. We need to get you and your sister straight to the doctor. Don’t touch anything as we go. Come on. It’s dangerous here.’ He looked back. ‘Hey, Robbie, lad, the doctor’s coming. You hold on now.’

  Robbie managed to turn his head. His once tawny complexion had turned pale grey and his lips had swollen. ‘Bye, Ned.’

  ‘Robbie …’ Treacherous tears ran down Ned’s cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t go to Scotland together,’ he whispered. ‘No tears, Ned. I’ve never been happier than the last two days with you both.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ned said now, pulling his arm from the crewman who was gently urging him out of the cabin. ‘I’m so sorry, Robbie.’

  ‘Bella’s safe now.’ Robbie fell back, all energy drained, and then twisted onto his side as a convulsion of pain erupted and liquid gushed from his body.

  This time the crewman was successful in getting Ned out of the cabin. ‘Key?’

  ‘What?’ Ned was suddenly disoriented. It was hanging uselessly in his hand.

  The man stared at the key, obviously contemplating taking it, but thought better of it. ‘Lock the door, lad, and say a quiet prayer of farewell for your friend. Like I said, he won’t make the next hour.’

  Robbie was pronounced dead by Grenfell, the ship’s doctor, while most passengers on board were enjoying a midday meal. The Sinclairs had been taken to a new cabin, where a nurse oversaw Bella’s bathing and the Scottish sailor ensured Ned also washed himself from head to toe with liquid disinfectant and bright-red Lifebuoy carbolic soap that made his skin feel raw, burned. Their few garments were thrown overboard immediately, along with their few remaining possessions.

  Every last remnant of the life they had known before Rangoon had now been snatched from them. And now poor, loyal Robbie was gone, the kindly Dr Grenfell explained as Ned sat in the medical room, his hair still wet from his ablutions.

  ‘Cholera takes its victims painfully but mercifully fast,’ the doctor said, his dark-blue eyes filled with sympathy. ‘I gather Robbie was Anglo-Indian?’

  ‘He never knew his father but believed he was English. His mother was Bengali,’ Ned said.

  Grenfell offered a soft smile that gave his eyes a genial quality. Ned couldn’t tell his age, guessed he was older than his father but not by much. Perhaps just past forty. ‘My parents lived there,’ Grenfell said. ‘Both missionaries.’

  Ned could tell the doctor was just trying to keep him talking, to get him past the shock. He had only kindness in his gentle voice and Ned sensed he could trust him. ‘Where’s Bell?’


  ‘Sleeping. I gave her something because she was exhausted and the crying wasn’t helping.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Numb.’

  ‘I understand. No gripes, no upset belly, no thirst?’

  He shook his head. ‘How can it happen that fast?’

  ‘It does. Hours, for most of its sufferers. I’m sure you and Bell will remain untouched by it, unless …’

  ‘We haven’t taken anything other than boiled water.’

  Grenfell gave his shoulder a brief squeeze of sympathy. ‘Tell me why we have three stowaways on board.’

  Ned slumped forward, elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. He began slowly and told the doctor an abridged version of their story. He used the excuse that they didn’t want to remain in an orphanage and preferred to take their chances in India to find a way back to Britain, keeping the whole ugly business of Brent from the tale. It just seemed easier to keep it simple. He didn’t, however, spare the doctor his pain at the loss of his parents.

  When he was finished, Ned sat back, his throat dry from talking. But there were no tears.

  Grenfell held the silence for a short while. Their sad tale certainly took some digesting, Ned realised. Even to his own ears it sounded like it had been contrived for a novel: dramatic deaths, exotic setting, a daring stowaway on a passenger ship. He shook his head. ‘This is all the truth,’ he added. ‘We couldn’t even collect our few belongings. We have nothing but each other.’

  ‘I’m sorry for all your losses, Ned. It doesn’t seem right that you three have suffered so much and are still so young.’

  ‘What will happen to Robbie?’

  Grenfell began undoing the stethoscope from around his neck. ‘Well, the captain is furious to have discovered a stowaway and obviously everyone is concerned about the potential spread of cholera. We don’t know enough about this disease.’ He gestured to the glass flask, urging Ned to finish the clean water. ‘There’ve been two, no three, major outbreaks in Britain from Asiatic cholera. Doctors tried everything in the early days, from brandy to blood letting. But people took to sealing their doors and praying.’