Chapter 3

Jake White in India

Jake was relaxing in the sitting area of his room in Lady Harmsworth’s parents’ mansion in Bombay gently stroking the neatly trimmed beard he had cultivated on the ship. At least he would have been relaxing, and possibly the stroking was some sort of worry relief, if it had not been for the letter sitting in front of him on the low table. Sooner or later he was going to have to read it, but having got as far as the name of the sender it was something he was not keen on doing.

He had arrived in Bombay just the day before after a passage of 79 days, not a record but a very creditable time. Their trip down channel after the tug had left them had not been particularly fast under topsails and t’gallants, but once they were clear of Land’s End the Captain had set the royals and courses and Aurora showed that she was a fast ship. Not, Mr Johnson the Mate had told him, as fast as the new clippers, but he felt they were ‘too fine up forrard’, alright in good weather, but not in heavy seas. The Mate had been a big help to Jake, treating him like a son, and even teaching him how to navigate and take the noon sight to calculate the ships position. The Captain was fine with this, commenting that it could never do any harm to have another navigator on board. As in most things Jake had proved an apt pupil.

His relationship with Brigitte, Lady Harmsworth’s companion and sometime maid, had developed, they had kissed, but she always managed to evade his clutches before anything more could develop. She was, she told him, ‘seving somzing for ‘er wedding night’. Jake was fairly certain that she would be happy if that event involved himself, how he felt about that he wasn’t sure. One thing he was sure of, although he didn’t fully understand why, was that he was missing the two girls. Brigitte had eventually, as she said she would, drawn most of the story regarding his rapid departure out of him, and had hooted with laughter particularly at the wicked thing done by the girls, particularly Victoria, to their governess.

Lady Harmsworth, however, had not seemed surprised to find Jake on board, only that he was a member of the crew. She was, it turned out, a widow, he guessed about thirty or thirty five years old. She was visiting her parents in Bombay where her father was in charge of the local government, Jake wasn’t exactly sure what. She had taken an interest in Jake’s future, hence his present situation. Jake, of course, had no illusions regarding the possibility of any relationship with the lady, and, though truth to tell she was extremely attractive, she treated him as if he were a younger brother.

The letter had arrived aboard the mail steamer from Suez, and had arrived three weeks earlier, the mails now coming through the Mediterranean by steamship and overland from Alexandria to Suez. Some passengers now came by this route, but Lady Harmsworth’s father had recommended that she come by sea, the ‘overland route’ was, he felt, still fraught with danger. His letter to his daughter had arrived more than a year earlier, but the route was now getting better, and soon there would be a railway for the ninety overland miles.

Aurora would be unloading for several days before continuing her voyage onwards to Calcutta, where she would pick up the majority of her cargo for the homeward journey. Jake had only signed for the leg to Bombay, and Captain Pook thought he would find a replacement for him there without difficulty. Both the Captain and the Mate Mr Johnson had thanked him for his service and wished him well. There were several things that struck Jake about India, the first being that before they could even see the coast they there was some sort of smell in the air, a smell of India which became stronger as they approached. Second was the heat. It made a hot summer day even in the sheltered confines of Bristol’s dock area seem no more than pleasantly warm. Beyond that the colour and the teeming mass of people simply took his breath away.

He picked up the letter again and looked at it. How the devil had she found him? And so soon? With all the strange things that had happened Jake could only suppose that some sort of witchcraft was involved. Was this something common to all ladies he wondered. He was of course wrong, as usual there was a simple explanation, he just didn’t know what it was. Like the third glass in the picnic hamper on the train from Bristol, when it was explained he would be amazed that he hadn’t worked it out. Such is the inexperience of youth.

At the instant Jake picked up the paper knife to slit the seal the dinner gong sounded. He put the letter down and went downstairs to the dining room, not sure whether he was glad of the reprieve or not. It was not too long before he decided that reading the letter would have been the lesser of the two evils.

There were only seven of them around the table this evening, Lady Harmsworth’s parents Lord and Lady Clevedon, Colonel Cadogan, an officer who had used the ‘overland’ route, but had been off somewhere and had only arrived back today, her father’s secretary, a cheerful young man by the name of Harcourt Fenton-Mudd, Jake couldn’t recall where he had heard the name before, and then there were Brigitte and Jake. The soup was, as Jake found over the next week or two, it usually seemed to be, flavoursome but unidentifiable, and the fish was something which Jake could not identify, but was nevertheless very good. The main course was a bird of some sort, it might have been pheasant Jake thought. But it might not, and then there was fruit, none of which he had encountered before. The conversation was light and consisted mainly of shopping and the difficulties of obtaining suitable food supplies. Lady Bridget waited until Jake had a forkful of food approaching his mouth before she asked:

“Was there anything in your letter to cause concern Jake? It seems so unusual for a letter to be waiting for you on your arrival, and I couldn’t help but notice it was from Lydia Underwood one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

Jake was paralysed.

“You have read it haven’t you Jake?” Lady Bridget had a raised eyebrow and what could only be described as a smirk on her face.

Brigitte was holding her napkin to her mouth in an obvious attempt to stifle giggles.

“Should you be asking that Bridget. It is private you know,” Lady Clevedon intervened.

“Nnnn ... No!” Jake stuttered. “No, I ... I haven’t had time.” his forkful of food still hovering just short of his mouth.

“You appear to be causing Mr White some discomfort,” admonished Lady Clevedon.

“But Mama, I was only enquiring out of interest in case Lydia had health problems,” replied Lady Bridget, innocently.

“Then I suggest, Bridget that she would have told you in your own letter from her.” replied Lady Clevedon drily.

Lady Bridget blushed.

Jake recovered. “I’ll let you know if there is any change between the letters,” he observed, to a smile from Lady Clevedon.

Brigitte had some difficulty in not bursting out laughing.

After the ladies withdrew, Fenton-Mudd excused himself, he had, he explained, some work to catch up on. Lord Clevedon and the Colonel lit a cigars, which Jake declined because he didn’t smoke, he did however partake of a glass of port.

“Mmm.” Jake placed the glass back on the table after taking a sip. He contemplated the colour.

“You appear to appreciate a fine port Jake,” said Lord Clevedon.

“Yes,” Milord replied Jake. “Much of our trade was with the Iberian peninsular, and often one was invited to partake of a glass with the ships captain to conclude business. I learnt a lot about it. On the other hand I preferred to avoid the rum from the West Indies. Good for sailors, I believe.” he laughed.

“I thought you were a sailor,” Lord Clevedon’s eye’s twinkled.

“So did I,” said Colonel Cadogan

“Not entirely by choice, although I have a good grounding in seamanship and navigation now. I’d not describe myself as a sailor though.”

“Well my daughter seems to think highly of you whether a sailor or not, and you come highly recommended.”

“That is very kind of Lady Harmsworth Milord.”

“No, it isn’t young man. If my daughter thinks highly of you then believe me you have passed a very high test. She takes no prisoners,” replied Lord Clevedon.

“Had you considered the army as a career, there are plenty of opportunities here in India, plenty of excitement too.” suggested the Colonel.

“I had at one time considered it Colonel,” said Jake, thinking of the recruiting sergeant when he had first arrived in Bristol, “but to be quite honest there is a great deal of opportunity and excitement in trading, you are on the spot and your decisions mean profit or loss. Though I appreciate that sometimes it is less than respectable.”

The Colonel laughed, “And not respected by many, although I do understand it is the taxes paid on the profits you chaps make that pay for people like me. Do you think that?”

“Indeed Colonel, we need each other, merchants depend on you to keep the peace and you need us to pay your salaries.”

“Well it’s good to see you chaps respecting each other,” Lord Clevedon joined in. “You say there’s excitement, Mr White? Not the same as being shot at though!”

“No, Milord, there’s no doubt of that. But shouldn’t fighting be the last resort? It isn’t good for any of us if the situation degenerates to that.”

“Well said,” rejoined the colonel, “but sometimes there isn’t any option.”

Jake acknowledged that this was the case, and decided it was time to retire.

Jake was taking a bath before he went to bed when he heard his door open and a voice call out ‘Jake’. A moment later Brigitte put her head around the bathroom door. She was ready for bed in nightdress and gown.

“Ah! Zere you are.”

“Brigitte! What are you doing here?” squeaked Jake dropping a wash cloth over his private parts.

“‘Ave you read zat letter yet?”

“And hello to you too. No! I haven’t”

Brigitte let out a sigh of frustration, stepped back into the bedroom, picked up the letter and knife from the table and came back into the bathroom. She slit the seal open and unfolded page and handed it to him.

She sat on the edge of the bath.

“Read!”

“But, but, a lady shouldn’t be in a gentleman’s bathroom.”

“You ‘ave nozzing I ‘ave not seen before.”

“But you said...”

“Yes, but ‘aving seen zings does not mean I ‘ave used zem. Read.”

Jake looked at the unfolded the letter.

Jake read the letter a second time, and looked up at Brigitte.

“I take it that Lady Bridget’s letter said much the same.”

“Yes, but zere was zome personal stuff too.”

“Poor Evie, she must be feeling ... well I’m not sure what.”

“Evie? Why Evie?” asked Brigitte, surprised.

“She was the one who told me about the sickness meaning they were all pregnant and that I’d better run for it. She was wrong and it is obviously upsetting her.”

“Hmm ... and you forgive ‘er?”

“Of course, she thought she was helping and I was fool enough to believe her. I’m so glad the girls are better though, I really am fond of them.” he thought for a moment and then went on, “So I must have mentioned Aunt Lydia to Lady B, and she put two and two together. And I remember the tug coming alongside and taking the last mail before we left.”