Fifteen
With the rains over, the sunlight turned crisp and golden. The dry weather speeded Paulette's recovery and she decided to leave for Calcutta, to put in motion the plan that had been gestating in her mind through her illness.
The first step required a private meeting with Nob Kissin Baboo and she gave the matter much thought before setting off. Burnham Bros.'s main offices were on Calcutta's fashionable Strand Road, but the firm's dockside premises were in a dingy corner of Kidderpore, a half-hour's boat ride away: this distance Baboo Nob Kissin Pander was required to traverse almost daily, in the discharge of his duties, and being of a thrifty turn of mind, he chose usually to travel on the crowded kheya-boats that transported people up and down the waterfront.
The Burnham compound in Kidderpore was a large one, consisting of several godowns and bankshalls. The shed that served as the gomusta's private daftar lay in one corner of the compound, adjoining a lane. When prospective clients wished to avail themselves privately of Baboo Nob Kissin's services as a bespoke moneylender, it was there, Paulette knew, that they went to meet with him. This, for instance, was what her father had done – but for herself, in her current situation, the risks attendant upon venturing into a property owned by her former benefactor were too great to make this a comfortable option; she decided instead to waylay the gomusta as he stepped off his ferry, at the nearby ghat.
The ghat in question – known as Bhutghat – proved to be ideal for her purposes: it was narrow enough to be kept easily under watch, and sufficiently busy for a lone woman to loiter without attracting attention. Better still, it was overlooked by an ancient tree, growing on a knolclass="underline" the tree was a banyan and its hanging roots formed a beard so dense as to offer easy concealment. Slipping inside this tangled thicket Paulette came upon a root that had looped down in such a way as to form a swinging bench. Here she seated herself, rocking gently, and watched the ghat through a gap in the carefully draped folds of cloth that covered her face.
Her vigil almost came to naught, for the gomusta was so changed, with his long, shoulder-length hair, that he was nearly gone before she recognized him: even the way he walked seemed different, with smaller steps and swaying hips, so she took the precaution of following for a minute or two before she accosted him with a sibilant whisper: Gomusta-babu… shunun… listen…
He spun around in alarm, looking from the river's edge to the nearby lane. Although Paulette was well within the ambit of his gaze, his eyes, which were lined with a thin touch of kajal, passed without check over her sari-shrouded face.
Paulette hissed again, but in English this time: 'Baboo Nob Kissin… it's me…'
This surprised him even more but brought him no closer to recognizing her; on the contrary he began to mutter prayers, as if to ward off a ghost: Hé Radhé, hé Shyam…
'Nob Kissin Baboo! It is me, Paulette Lambert,' she whispered. 'I am here, look!' When his bulging eyes had turned in her direction, she whisked her sari momentarily off her face. 'You see? It is me!'
The sight of her made him leap backwards in shock, so that he landed heavily on the toes of several passers-by – but the drizzle of abuse that rained down on him went unheeded for his attention was transfixed on Paulette's sari-shrouded face. 'Miss Lambert? Why, I cannot believe! You have turned up in my backside? And wearing native garbs also. So nicely you have hidden your face I could not tell…'
'Shh!' Paulette pleaded. 'I pray you, Baboo Nob Kissin, please abase your voice.'
The gomusta switched to a piercing whisper. 'But Miss, what you are doing in this nook-and-cranny, kindly can you inform? We all are searching you left and right, to no avail. But never mind – Master will rejoice like anything. Let us return back right now-itself.'
'No, Baboo Nob Kissin,' said Paulette. 'It is not my intention to go to Bethel. I searched you out for it is with you I must most press-ingly speak. May I pray you to spare a little time to sit with me? If it will not too much derange you?'
'Sit?' The gomusta directed a disapproving frown at the mudsplattered, refuse-strewn steps of the ghat. 'But this locality is sorely lacking in furnitures. How to sit? Our saris – I mean, our clothings may become soiled.'
'Do not fear, Baboo Nob Kissin,' said Paulette, pointing to the knoll. 'Up on that monticule we can put ourselves in the shelter of the tree. Personne will see us, I assure you.'
The gomusta eyed the tree with some concern: of late he had developed a housewifely aversion to all creatures that crept and crawled and was at pains to stay away from anything that might harbour these forms of life. But today his curiosity prevailed over his distrust of greenery: 'Very well,' he said reluctantly. 'I shall comply your demands. Let us put our foot in it.'
With Paulette in the lead, they climbed up the slope and made their way into the thicket of tangled roots; although Baboo Nob Kissin's pace was slow, he made no complaint until Paulette ushered him towards the swinging root that had served as her seat. Having inspected this gnarled offshoot, he made a dismissive gesture. 'This place is not apt for sitting,' he announced. 'Insects are indulging in all type of activities. Ferocious caterpillars may also be there.'
'But caterpillars do not habitate on the roots of such trees,' said Paulette. 'It is safe to sit, I assure you.'
'Kindly do not persist,' said Baboo Nob Kissin. 'I prefer to opt out for foot-standing.' Thus having spoken, he crossed his arms over his bosom and positioned himself so that no part of his clothing or person was in contact with any kind of foliage.
'As you please, Baboo Nob Kissin,' said Paulette. 'I do not wish to impose…'
She was interrupted by the gomusta, who could no longer restrain his curiosity. 'But so tell, no? Where you have been putting up all this time? Which side you went?'
'It is not important, Baboo Nob Kissin.'
'I see,' said the gomusta, narrowing his eyes. 'So then must be true what everyone is telling.'
'And what is that?'
'I do not like to wash dirty linens, Miss Lambert,' said the gomusta, 'but actually, all are saying that you have indulged in unproper behaviours and are now expecting. That is why you have absconded.'
'Expecting?' said Paulette. 'Expecting what?'
'Infructuous issue. You only told to Mrs Burnham, no, that native-bread is cooking in the coal-oven?'
Paulette went bright red and clapped her hands to her cheeks. 'Baboo Nob Kissin!' she said. 'I have indulged in nothing and am expecting nothing. You must believe me: I left Bethel of my own will; it was my decision to escape.'
The gomusta leant closer. 'You can freely admit – with me, formalities need not be there. Chastity is highly depleted, no? Maiden's-head has also been punctured, isn't it?'
'Not at all, Nob Kissin Baboo,' said Paulette indignantly. 'I do not know how you can imagine such things.'
The gomusta mulled this over for a moment and then leant furtively forward, as if to give voice to a thought that he could scarcely bring himself to articulate: 'So tell then: is it because of Master you are absconding?'
Paulette slipped her ghungta down so as to bare her eyes, and looked him full in the face. 'Maybe.'
'Oh my, my!' said the gomusta, passing his tongue over his lips. 'Must be then hanky-pankies were taking place?'
It was clear to Paulette that a desire to learn of his employer's private compulsions was smouldering brightly in the gomusta's head: what use he would make of this knowledge she could not tell, but she understood that his curiosity might well be turned to her advantage. 'I cannot say any more, Nob Kissin Baboo. Not unless…'