“Why limit ourselves to silk?” I asked. “Rani Mata has excess food-grains in her warehouse, rice, wheat, and barley, which can very well be exported.”
“We grow or we die,” Francis sahib said to the men. “I’ve heard of beautiful furniture arriving in our port from eastern islands. What if we exported a shipment of grains to those islands in exchange? Bartered with the native fools?”
My body tightened. Stay calm, Maria. Don’t lose your temper. This isn’t about you.
“An opportunity, indeed,”Arthur sahib said. “Let us meet again next week. Perhaps we’ll call this contractor back. Without his dagger, of course!”
As we filed out of the meeting hall, Arthur sahib took me aside. “Splendid!” he said, smiling broadly. “You negotiated well in male company. A woman! A Hindustani woman at that! A two-tongued one!”
“Sir, would you consider promoting me?”
“You’re not ready yet. By the way, I must point out you didn’t pronounce the word cheap right. It’s not pronounced like ship.” He explained the difference, with a laugh. My face hot, I repeated after him until I got it right.
“My only regret is that with you being absent from the kitchen, our meals have fallen in quality. We’re back to watery lentils and under-cooked rice. Can’t you teach your cooking magic to those lazy sods in the kitchen?”
How I wish I could tell him that those ‘lazy sods’—Idris, Jas, and Pratap—toiled twelve hours a day.
Arthur sahib hadn’t agreed on retaining me as an interpreter, but one victory a day was sufficient. I decided to give a helping hand to the kitchen crew but not get caught up in a hundred tasks there.
I would miss their company and bantering in my mother tongue, but the river was widening before me. Maria, the Interpreter. Maria, the Negotiator. Would it be possible, one day, to become Maria, the Factor?
TWENTY-THREE
Standing at the landing, brimming with happiness, I watched Job come down the stairs; my heart quickened at the very sight of him. His high-necked indigo satin tunic and matching vest stood out in startling contrast to the pallor of his face. Although his cheeks were still gaunt, his legs seemed sturdy as he prepared to resume his normal activities for the first time in nearly three months.
“Dearest love,” he whispered tenderly as he reached the landing, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I will devote the rest of the day to a long list of pressing duties. I can hardly wait to get back. But I shall wait for you in my chamber this evening.”
So far, with him being unwell, I hadn’t shared his bed. Each evening, I would feed him, massage his forehead, watch him fall asleep, and slip out of the chamber.
I hesitated. Voices echoed in my head, Teema’s voice of experience. He’ll split your heart open, steal your tenderness, then leave. The voices of my elders: A girl from a good family shouldn’t go to a man’s chamber at night.
“Yes, I’ll be there.” I responded happily.
Job walked toward the meeting hall. Dreamy-eyed, I watched him and then strolled toward the kitchen. Idris stirred the fire in the chulah, wisps of smoke rose in the air. I greeted him enthusiastically.
“I am at a loss,” Idris said in a subdued manner. “I have to quickly come up with dishes to prepare for Anne memsahib’s visit. Any suggestions?”
“She’s still in town?”
“Oh, didn’t you know? She’s been staying in the Dutch quarters farther down the river, a regular at their nightly parties, and from what I hear, a popular figure.”
“But why on earth is she visiting us?” I asked. “Last I heard she was engaged to Charles sahib. He’s been sent to Surat and will be tried there for attempted assassination of his superior. Their engagement is supposed to be over.”
“May Allah help her,” Idris said. “She has had a change of heart; women from England are entitled to that. She’s decided she wants Job sahib. She insists she would have visited him sooner, but Arthur sahib had asked her to wait, given Job sahib’s frail condition. She’ll be here this afternoon to take refreshments with the sahib.”
For an instant the air was still. “I look after Job day and night.”
“I have been informed that the lady wants to reignite the flame of passion in Job sahib. She thinks she can win him back with her beauty and charm, and surely, other tricks she knows.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“My dear Maria, it pains me to say this. A servant is told only what she is required to know to carry on her duties. And, also, the others were advised to keep their mouths shut. Arthur sahib has had a hand in this matter, if you haven’t guessed it already. He’s a crafty man, haven’t you noticed? He needs you as an interpreter and praises you accordingly, but rumor has it that he’d eventually like to dismiss you. He prefers Job sahib to marry an Englishwoman, racial purity and all that. Arthur sahib is playing the match-maker. I overheard him say so during last night’s supper. ‘Anne fits the bill. She’ll make a lovely hostess for this Factory. I’d take her myself, but I think she wants Job.’”
I stood numb, shattered, remembering Job’s kisses, the cocoon of love we’d created in his bedchamber, our shared memories, and how much we both love this land.
“You’ve gone through more than most of us, Maria. I wish you well and I always will, but you’ve chosen the wrong course of action. Your dream will never be fulfilled. It is not the path of a poor Brahmin girl from Kadampur.”
“And Job?” I asked. “What does he have to say?”
“I’m told Job sahib has agreed to spend the afternoon with Anne memsahib.”
I couldn’t utter a word. As I took a step toward the door, Idris called out. “Wait, Maria. Will you be able to do the serving? I’ve been asked to play the flute. The other cooks are busy with various chores.”
I nodded.
“The sky is for the rich,” Idris said, his voice gentle, kind. “We only have the earth to fall down on. Let me warn you that you could ruin Job sahib’s life and your own.”
You’re wrong, I wanted to say, you don’t understand what I feel about Job. Such a discussion would go nowhere.
I walked out of the kitchen, stepped into the courtyard, and headed to my room. The roses lining the outer walls of the main building had lost their blush. The squirrels which ran about freely near the palash tree ahead of me couldn’t bring a smile to my face. The sun did not lighten my heart. I sat on the floor of my room and sobbed soundlessly.
I spent the next several hours in the kitchen, helping Idris prepare a host of delicacies. As the afternoon rolled past, I made up my mind. When our work was over, I returned to my room. I had to dress properly, show myself in the brightest possible light.
I wore a sky-blue cotton sari with an indigo trim, the best from my meager collection of clothing. I was too thin and lacking in the curves that would have made me a beauty, but I didn’t let that thought ruin this moment. I combed my shoulder length hair, tied it into a bun, and wore a necklace of fresh shiuli flowers. I checked myself in the looking-glass and banished the sad look from my eyes in favor of a pleasant smile.
As I reentered the kitchen, Idris looked at me, smiled, and then looked again. “How pretty you look, Maria! I have never seen you dressed so well.”
“Has the lady arrived?”
“Yes, they’re sitting on the verandah. She will pale before you. Be warned, however, not to incur her wrath. A maidservant mustn’t outshine her mistress.”
I picked up a silver tray arrayed with a variety of colorful tidbits placed on white platters. Idris headed out the door first, turning once and saying, “Allah, the Sacred, is the only judge of our hearts.”
If my legs felt a bit wobbly on the way to the verandah, I didn’t show it.
The verandah appeared festive, bedecked with oil lamps, the pillars entwined with chains of marigold. Idris had already positioned himself in the far corner of the courtyard, playing the flute. I stood for a moment, soaking up the music, hearing in my mind what Idris had alw
ays said, “Allah breathes through the flute and creates the sounds that dance in our hearts.”
Job and Anne memsahib sat across from each other on wicker chairs. His posture perfect, the gold ring on his hand sparkling, Job wore an expression of thoughtfulness, as though churning over a grim matter in his mind. As I stepped closer, Anne memsahib, a pearl necklace around her slender neck, straightened her spine. She avoided facing me and I took the opportunity to turn my curious gaze on her. Although she had on a lace-collared, high-waist violet gown worked with floral sprays, her face had lost some of its vibrancy. In the few months she’d spent under Cossimbazar’s merciless sun, her complexion had darkened. A pair of elaborate pearl-drop earrings and a hat trimmed with rosebuds only partially augmented her appearance. With deep shadows under her eyes, surely the result of keeping too many late hours, she seemed weary and desperate. And yet, she had the perfect poise of an Englishwoman.
After taking a deep breath, I set the tray down on the table and bobbed a curtsy. “I am Maria, the cook,” I said easily. It thrilled me to realize how much my English had improved since her last visit. “It is my great honor to serve you again.”
No response came from the lady; Job sahib gave me an admiring look, a smile on his lips. He eyed the platters, saying, “What a lovely meal you’ve prepared, Maria.”
He asked for the names of the dishes and I reeled off the list. Encouraged by the eagerness in his voice, I lingered.
Her eyes flaring, Anne memsahib bit out the words. “You may go.”
“I do beg pardon, memsahib.” Quickly, I turned and slipped out of the verandah.
“Too impertinent, that serving girl.” Her words followed me. “She acts like she’s one of us.”
“She’s indeed one of us,” Job said in a definitive manner.
I cherished Job’s remark. With the instinct of a server, I sat on the ground beside the ever prolific jasmine bush trellised high and lining the entire length of the verandah, a mini-jungle of green and white. I waited, in case they wanted more food or beverage. The afternoon sun caressed me, the vines tangled playfully over my head, and the blossoms teased me with their scent. Even Idris’s somber flute music didn’t dampen my mood. I could observe both Job and Anne memsahib from here. Job sat facing me, but I could only see Anne memsahib’s profile as she sat fanning herself with a hand-fan made of palm leaves.
Her voice took on a dreamy quality. “Ah, Job, what a pleasure. I have missed you all these months.”
“Truly?” Job had a bemused smile on his lips. “I thought Charles …”
“That rogue, that nightmare who would take anyone to bed? Oh, dear, what a time it has been. He actually tried to shoot you? And you, brave soul, fought him off? The story has circulated all over town. I am proud of your valor. Indeed, I am very proud.”
“I must correct you, Anne. It was Maria who thwarted the assassination attempt. It was she who saved my life and possibly prevented other disasters. She’s the one who should be commended, not I.”
“Her skin is dark, her English pitiful, and she’s not our class; you mustn’t dwell on her. Perhaps you were lonely, too lonely for too long a period. From now on, I’ll be happy to fill your free time.”
“Why would you seek my company, with so many handsome Dutch traders around?”
“Oh, Job, please do not put your trust in idle gossip. Lies! Ugly lies! Mean jealous people slandering me. Let us turn back to the evening of the grand feast when we first met.” She leaned closer to him, her voice grew deeper. “What a marvelous occasion that was. We sat together right here, drinking wine, listening to the flute—”
“Please listen to me, Anne. It will not work between us. It couldn’t be any clearer to me and I am trying to make it clear to you.”
Anne memsahib’s long, pearl-drop earrings brushed her neck. “But why, Job? Is it because of Charles? Don’t fret. I have put him out of my mind. I didn’t love him. I simply couldn’t return to England without a husband. You know what people would say? ‘Poor thing, she returned empty-handed.’ They’d look at me pitifully. I’ve received plenty of pity for being a widow.”
She covered her face with a hand and ceased speaking. Job held out a gauzy white handkerchief. She snatched it from him and wiped her eyes. I shifted my position. I had been watching her and listening to her confession with a certain vengeance, but now my jealousy melted into momentary sympathy.
“I am ready to start a new life with you, Job,” the widow from England said.
“You didn’t hear me correctly, Anne.”
His words sounded sweet to my ears and thrilled me. It was doubly thrilling because I wasn’t present in the scene and Job was confiding in my rival.
“Oh, let me break one other piece of good news,” Anne memsahib said. “I have grown used to this town. I never thought I would. The food here is magnificent. And what a great market—all the silk, satin, brocade, and pearls you could possibly want to buy.”
“Anne …”
“I can see myself living in this beautiful mansion. I’m an expert hostess and I’ll help you get important business leads by throwing lavish balls and suppers. By now I know how corrupt the Dutch businessmen are, the tricks they use to gain an upper hand in the trading circles. I’ll share them all with you, which will help you enormously in your trade negotiations. But first, you must get rid of that annoying cook.”
Job made a move to rise. “I need to return to my duties, Anne.”
“You’re thought to be a gentleman, Job. We both come from the same part of England; I’ve met your mother. You owe me an explanation. You couldn’t possibly be in love with …”
“What if I said I was?”
Shiva! Let me sing your glory! Dizzyingly happy with Job’s admission, I wanted to jump out with open arms, hold him tight, and burst into tears. I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from singing out loud.
“For God’s sake, you don’t intend to wed her, do you?” Anne memsahib gasped. “You’re an Englishman, a Christian, the Chief Factor, and she is nothing but a dark-skinned, idol worshipper.”
The mellow, soothing sounds of Idris’s flute soared and dipped.
“The greatest moment of my life was when I saved her from burning,” Job said. “If she was born anew on that day, so was I. I who have always hated myself for being poor, unworthy, and outcast, saw myself differently through her eyes. I, who had thought I could never love again, felt the stirring of …”
“Stop it!” Anne memsahib’s voice was thick with disgust. “She’s not of our race. How could you have descended so low? Not only do you wear native clothes, but you have taken this heathen into your bed! How can a proper Englishwoman like me have anything further to do with you?”
“You’ve never really had any use for me, did you, Anne? What am I to you?”
“Please don’t make such a serious mistake, Job. As Chief of the Factory, in the name of the Crown, for your loyalty to England, please reconsider.”
Job rose from his chair. “I’ll escort you to your carriage now,” he said gently but firmly.
Job had maintained his dignity, choosing his words carefully, keeping his voice well-modulated.
Anne memsahib sat rigidly, her face paling. “Should you change your mind … I plan to stay in this town indefinitely.”
“It would be better for you to return to England.”
“I will not,” she said, her body shaking. “I will stay here and make your life quite difficult. As for your reputation, there are powerful traders who would love to see you disgraced and your whole enterprise turned to ashes. And, hear me well, I’ll tell Arthur you have taken advantage of me on this verandah, with no one in sight, and now refuse to marry me.”
Job chuckled. “Arthur, who has invited you here, has been listening to our conversation and watching us from that room over there.” He pointed to an adjacent parlor with a blue-painted window open to the verandah. “Arthur and I met earlier in the day. He fully understands my position an
d volunteered to monitor our time together.”
So Idris had misunderstood Arthur sahib’s intention! Anne memsahib looked about her, her face contorted. “Arthur?” she cried out. “Are you there?”
Arthur sahib cleared his throat from his hidden nook.
“Arthur will know exactly what to do with you,” Job said. “You’ve managed to give the English residents in this town a bad reputation. We can ill afford that, given the predisposition of our religiously inclined Emperor and local merchants against licentious behavior. We could lose our trading privileges. On top of that, you’ve made threats to me and the Company; this will not be tolerated. I will consult with the Company management in England. Should you ever return, I will let them decide the course of action to be taken against you.”
Abruptly, Anne memsahib stood up. “You can’t mean any of this! You once saw me as a beautiful woman. Have you forgotten?”
“As Indian sages say, a woman’s beauty is an illusion, maya. It fades. What really persists is a woman’s inner nature.”
“So you’ve become Hinduized?” Anne memsahib’s laugh was shrill and sarcastic, her face dense with some kind of madness. “What could possibly be more degrading for an Englishman?” She shoved the tray; it landed on the floor, shattering the fine porcelain dishes and scattering bits of food all over the ground, squandering all that Idris and I had done to prepare the lavish spread. Yet, I smiled.
Job glanced at the mess. “Say what you will, Anne, but I cherish my life here. I have finally found a place to settle down, to do the work I enjoy. And I’ve met a woman who I can truly love, not just for how she can advance my business interests. I’ll accompany you to the gate now. Arthur will escort you home.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Anne memsahib turned. I got a full view of her face, blank as a piece of paper, her eyes motionless. As they stepped away from the verandah, I jumped up and scampered victoriously toward the kitchen, absorbing the happy tune Idris was now playing on his flute.
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