‘It’s not Iris, Jack,’ Rupert answered.
Mack arrived, looking apologetic.
‘There’s been an accident at Top Reef,’ Jack explained, not wanting Mack to elaborate for him. ‘I have to leave KGF tonight, it seems. Have you been called to the mine yet, Dr Walker?’
Harold Walker shook his head. ‘There’s scant need for doctors up there, but the morgue will be busy.’ His voice was gritty.
Jack felt his throat close so tight he could barely swallow. ‘Seventeen dead,’ he said, baldly. ‘I am being held responsible, although —’
‘Frankly, Jack, I don’t care,’ Walker said. ‘I’ve got rather more on my mind tonight.’
Jack felt Mack’s hand on his arm. He shook it free, frowning. ‘Rupert, what’s going on?’
Rupert looked to Mack. ‘Why hasn’t anyone told him?’
‘Told me what?’ Jack roared, barging into the house. ‘Iris!’
They tried to restrain him but it was like trying to hold back a Cornish storm on a winter’s night. ‘Iris!’ he yelled again.
Flora came running. ‘You stay away from her, Jack Bryant!’
Mack had his burly arms around Jack but it was Flora who stopped him in his tracks. She was so small, but fierce in defence of her daughter.
‘I just want to talk to her.’ She blocked his path.
‘You can’t. She is sedated, unconscious,’ Walker explained, taking charge at last. He sighed. ‘Jack, I’m sorry you have to learn this now, on top of everything, but there was another accident today involving Ned.’
Jack tried to say something but nothing came out other than a soft moan.
‘He’s dead, Jack,’ Rupert said, glancing at his father.
Jack heard the word, understood its meaning, but somehow couldn’t grasp how it applied to Ned. He looked around at Mack, but Mack’s expression was as haunted as everyone else’s.
‘He was electrocuted,’ Walker continued. ‘His body’s in the morgue too.’
Jack’s head was spinning. Too much death. ‘Iris …’
‘She knows. That’s why we’ve sedated her,’ Rupert added unnecessarily.
‘I want to see her,’ Jack began.
‘No!’ both Flora and Harold said together.
Rupert stepped closer, put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘We’ve only just got her calm, old chap. You can’t imagine the state she’s in and we’re all thinking of the baby. Please, Jack.’
‘But —’
‘We have to leave now, Jack,’ Mack said, pulling his arm.
‘No! I won’t leave her this way.’
Flora’s mouth thinned, her eyes flaring with anger. ‘If you can leave your wife, Jack, you can leave our daughter. She’s with her family. We’ll get her through this.’
Mack pulled again on his arm. ‘Johns won’t wait much longer. We don’t want a scene with security. There’s been enough tragedy for one day.’
‘Jack, just go. I promise I’ll tell Iris you came.’ Rupert eyed him intently.
Jack nodded helplessly, control swirling helplessly away from him as he allowed himself to be led back to the car. As they drove away from the Walker property, Jack looked around, craning his head for one last glimpse, but the family had already closed their door and their ranks.
In the back of the car, silent, helpless tears rolled down Jack’s cheeks … he was no longer sure who he was grieving for.
They were already approaching Five Lights. Oorgaum and the people he cared about were behind him. He absently recognised the hockey pitch moving past as a dark smudge. Johns finally turned on the lights and instantly hit the accelerator, the car gathering speed until Jack could see the tall tower of lights and the five-road intersection coming towards them. In a moment they would be past even the outskirts of Kolar Gold Fields. The life he’d known would be behind him … for good.
The journey into Bangalore was mostly silent. Mack had warned him not to remain in the south.
‘Heed the warning, lad. The company wants you out of India. If you come back under your own steam, just remember you’ll be alone with no protection from Taylor & Sons. Have a spell back at home and give yourself some time to think.’
‘What about clearing my name? I don’t want people thinking I ran away during the night because I accepted guilt.’
‘It’s irrelevant. Negligent or not, you were at the controls of the engine. You’d obviously consumed liquor tonight. You’re damned either way,’ said Johns.
Jack had to stop himself from reaching around Johns’ throat and choking him.
‘My wife is having a child,’ Jack said in a monotone.
Mack sighed. ‘Ah, lad, I’m sorry about that. Once the dust settles, the mine can file its report, Taylor & Sons can exonerate you and then you can hold your head high. You can probably be back in a year.’ He was being generous. They both knew in their hearts there was unlikely to be any exoneration.
Over the journey Jack had run the scenario through his mind repeatedly and no matter which way he looked at it, he was the operator in charge of lowering the men. Unless the dial could be shown to be faulty – a notion he was clinging to – then he would be roundly blamed for drowning the Indian workers. Unforgivable for any winder, especially an experienced one who knew the dangers. Burrell was checking the pumps – there was maintenance to be done. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He had been distracted by the events of the day.
Jack felt glad that his father was dead and would not have to see Jack return to Cornwall with this burden hanging over him.
‘From hero to villain, eh, Bryant?’ Johns said, pulling into the driveway of the Bangalore Club. ‘Let’s hope your friend is still awake.’
Kanakammal stood alone on the back stoop. From her high vantage she had a great view of dawn breaking over KGF. Any moment now and Jack’s cockerel would start his crowing to herald the sunrise. The sky was still smudgy with dark clouds, although there was now a golden-pink luminous quality to the east. A new day was almost upon KGF but few would welcome it this morning.
Here he comes, she thought, as the cockerel sprang onto the fence post to tune up. He arched his back, raised his beak and began his first call of the morning to proclaim his territory. He was young and handsome and brash; his harem adored him. He was like Jack!
Jack would be in Bangalore by now. And then he would need to find a ship with a spare berth. She suspected he would be on a train to Bombay and on the sea back to his own country perhaps even before Christmas.
As dawn stole boldly across the sky, Kanakammal reached up and undid the magnificent gold chain of sovereigns Jack had given her and laid it in the veil of her sari on the ground. One by one she pulled off the dozens of gold bracelets he had also presented – for he knew that Indians showed their wealth by the gold they wore and he wanted her people to know that she had married a prosperous man. She removed her earrings and they landed on the veil alongside the other jewellery. Finally she took off the watch Jack had given her, but this did not join the gold. She placed this aside.
She left her wedding ring on – though Jack was lost to her, he was still her husband and she would never take another. Her anklets that amused him so much she had already removed and surreptitiously packed with his clothes. She hoped when he found them he would know she had sent something special of herself to be with him.
Finally, with the jewellery bundled and tied, never to be worn again, Kanakammal stared at the sunrise – at new beginnings – and permitted herself the indulgence of tears. She wept for her lost love and for the child who would never know his father.
46
Henry Berry stared at the broken man in front of him. He’d heard the full and terrible story, taken charge of Jack and booked him into the club.
They sat in Jack’s room, a decanter of brandy between them, with glasses of the deep golden liquid still untouched at their sides. Jack’s face was covered by his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked so distraught, Henry was at a loss. H
ow could so much trauma and hurt and despair surround one man?
He plumped for practicality. ‘Taylors will cover all costs for getting you home, old chap. I’ve got the club making some calls now. It’s late but under the circumstances I think we can raise someone in Bombay to check all sailings. I think the Naldera might be open. Nice and familiar for you.’ He paused, watched his friend, and knew what he was thinking. ‘You have to go, Jack. You can’t stay.’
‘How can anyone find me in Bangalore, Henry? They’re villagers!’
‘It’s not the point. You signed the contract. They’re not singling you out. The company wants you gone as per the rules. Don’t raise its ire by disobeying, especially if you want to come back to India some time.’
Now Jack raised his head and regarded him.
‘You and I both know I’m not coming back, if I leave now.’
‘Don’t say that. You don’t know that.’
‘The dials must have given a false reading. I … I don’t understand how else …’
‘Jack, they have to establish that.’
‘I can’t defend myself!’
Henry spoke in a freshly soothing tone. ‘The machinery will tell its own tale.’
‘The dials were compromised. I’ll stake my life on it.’
‘You don’t have to. Taylors will look to prove it.’
Jack gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You trust the company, Henry? The company only cares about its name, its reputation. It’s hardly going to admit to faulty machinery. Far easier to blame human error and let one man take the whole rap.’
‘Well, Jack, right now you are the company and so in protecting you, they do protect the name. Please heed sound advice. You’re not seeing things clearly right now and who can blame you. Truly, Jack, what you’re enduring is more than any man should have to bear. Give yourself permission to grieve, and to take some time to recover. Sailing back to Britain is the right decision, the only decision.’ He sighed. ‘Look, I was going to Madras but I’ll travel back to Bombay with you. I’ll get us on the first train tomorrow morning.’
Jack growled like a wounded animal.
‘Don’t fight it.’
‘I received word today that my father has died. Perhaps it’s right I go back and pay my respects, take care of my mother.’
Henry’s tic twitched. On top of everything! ‘Jack, I’m so sorry.’
‘I know. Before you turn in, Henry, I need you to ask you to take care of some things for me.’
‘Of course. What sort of things?’
‘Property, mainly.’
‘Are you sure you can think clearly?’
‘There’s not really that much to think about but it has to be done. My father taught me long ago that emotion must never get in the way of business. It’s one way I can honour him, I suppose.’
Henry thought it was a rather twisted logic but who was he to judge? ‘Consider it done,’ he said kindly. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to leave this until you get home, have a chance to think everything through? After all, you might come back, you might –’
‘I’m not coming back, Henry. I saw it in my wife’s eyes. She knew it too. I think India’s been trying to get rid of me since I arrived.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, old chap.’
Jack shook his head. ‘Too much has happened.’
‘But what about your family in KGF?’
‘I don’t know. I must provide for them. Elizabeth is strong. Stronger than me, than all of us put together. She has family too. I’ll make sure she is well looked after, just in case.’
‘In case of what?’
‘I don’t know what the future holds. All I know is that I want to make sure my business here is neatly tied up.’
‘Just a moment. I’ll get my notebook. We’d better do this properly.’
The next morning Jack Bryant climbed aboard a train bound for Bombay with his good friend, Henry Berry. Three days after his arrival, the Naldera did indeed call into Bombay on her way back to London and Henry was able to secure Jack a stateroom.
It took Jack just under four lonely weeks on board, where he kept himself to himself, attended none of the social events, and spent his evenings after a quiet dinner on the most isolated spot of the top deck that he could find, coming to terms with his new life.
Before long, the other passengers stopped trying to find out more about the tall, good-looking gentleman with the west-country accent and respected his obvious need to be left alone. Jack was glad he’d greased the palm of the purser and a few of the bearers on board to surreptitiously pass the word around that he was grieving over two close deaths.
He lost himself in regret for a while. Now, looking back on the last few tumultuous months, he could blame only himself. His desire for Iris had led both her and Ned towards his friend’s death. If Jack had only kept his distance from Iris, he was now convinced Ned would still be alive. Perhaps he might not have married Elizabeth … and now he had shattered her life too. She had never asked anything of him. Now she carried his child. He wondered whether it would be a son. He hoped so. He intended to make sure that the boy would be able to hold his head high, despite his father’s abandonment.
Did he hate himself? Yes.
Would he come back for his wife and boy? He doubted it. There was no future for him in KGF and there was definitely no life for a black woman and her half-caste son in Cornwall. They could have perhaps lived together in Bangalore but the temptation of Iris so near and widowed would be too strong. He knew he would be helpless where she was concerned and he could only imagine her family’s reaction if he reappeared in her life. No, Iris had always belonged to Ned and it had taken Ned’s death to make Jack realise that he and Iris would never be together.
They could live elsewhere in India – perhaps Madras or Bombay – but tearing Elizabeth away from the family she adored was more cruel than deserting her. Indian families stuck close. Elizabeth felt a strong calling to help raise her siblings and to take care of her parents. It was her role as eldest. Besides, in all honesty he had no desire to live again in India. Now that he was on a ship, back on the seas that he loved so much, he was vaguely excited to be going home.
Jack missed Cornwall.
It seemed Cornwall had missed Jack, too. His welcome to Pendeen was akin to the Prodigal Son. His mother and a small entourage awaited him on the platform when his train from London finally drew into Penzance.
He’d been inhaling the salty air for hours, having hugged the coast on the long journey west. The sight of Cornwall’s aquamarine water, her rugged cliffs and green hills filled him with unexpected joy. He didn’t mean to allow himself this sense of elation but the countryside alone had begun to lift his spirits.
To see his mother, her lips trembling with emotion to have her precious boy returned just when she most needed his presence and comfort, was the real catalyst to his recovery, though.
‘Look at you, my darling. So tanned and strong!’
Jack smiled. ‘When did you get frail enough to be in a wheelchair?’ he replied, frowning at the nurse standing nearby in the group of well-wishers.
‘Just a precaution, darling. I haven’t been too well …’
He hugged her again. ‘Well, you have nothing to worry about now. I’m home and I’m not going anywhere.’
And he’d held her hand in the back seat of his father’s new motor car as they were driven back to the house, which had been renovated and extended to include a whole new wing with its own suite of rooms.
When she had given Jack the tour, walking comfortably arm in arm with her son, Elizabeth Bryant had smiled, her eyebrow arched slightly. ‘Do you approve?’
‘It’s magnificent, but why all the renovations?’
‘It’s for you.’
‘Me?’
‘Your father hoped that when you came home you would feel comfortable enough to remain with us. He said we had some ground to make up as a family.’
‘He said that?’ Jack as
ked, almost breathless.
She nodded, smiling. ‘He loved you. He just didn’t know how to say it. This is his way of showing you. I’m so sad he never got to see you again, see your pleasure.’
‘Well, I’m here now.’
‘Did you come home for us, Jack?’
He tensed beside her.
‘No, darling, don’t answer that. I’m just grateful the seas brought my son back to me. And I’m sure it’s playing on your mind but as I told you in a letter, you were exonerated with regard to the mine disaster.’ She raised a hand as if to say enough, even though Jack hadn’t opened his mouth to speak, and continued as though he had objected. ‘It was categorically proved not only that you observed all the right protocols, acting swiftly and decisively, but that you were something of a hero on the rescue mission.’ She blinked at him as though he should make no attempt to deny her firmly spoken words.
‘I didn’t feel like one,’ he grumbled in token defiance.
She shook her head. ‘Your father was always such a complex fellow. He considered himself a modest man – of course this house and his possessions shouted the opposite,’ she sighed, ‘but he decided not to make a big thing of the letter from the mine or the visits we had from the people of the whole region who apologised for even privately thinking you may have been to blame.’
Jack looked at her askance. ‘They apologised?’ he repeated, his expression incredulous.
‘Unreservedly. Billy’s family was first to queue up,’ she said, only a hint of sarcasm permitted to escape. ‘Actually, I tell a lie. The first person to offer her deepest regret for how you were treated was Mrs Shand, who much as I adore her seems to hold every living young man responsible for the death of her son. Forgive me, I know that sounds cruel. Darling Jack, you look a picture of shock. Your father was wrong not to tell you. He said it wouldn’t have made any difference to you.’
Jack had to agree. ‘It wouldn’t have while I was in India but now I’m home I think it means everything to me.’
‘Hold your head high, son. That was your father’s dying wish. He made me promise I would tell you that.’
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