Chapter Text
The Queen Victoria II docked at the London harbour with all the subtlety of a bull in a bullring. It was an unconventional way to put the thought, but it was true. It was a quiet night for the seas, so it must be a testament to the captain’s skills that he decided to channel all his rage at the passengers into a less… direct way. Even though it may kill us all, I think, as Edwina clutches onto me for dear life. I, in turn was holding on to my worn, heavy beige trunk like a lifeline.
Don’t kill the books, I pray as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Hai Ram” an exclamation was uttered from behind Edwina “How are both my sisters so dramatic?”
I turned around and narrowed my eyes at Kathani. 26 and head of the household, my eldest sister was poise, grace and strength personified- when she was not trying to hold back her laughter at us that is. As she approached the bed and sat beside us, her lips were curled at one end.
“Didi, we are not being dramatic, simply practical.” Edwina replied in a sweet tone. The middle sister, Edwina was a year older than me- 18 and ready to face the London season.
“And do not laugh at us”, I say, “Captain Westbrook is furious at us – “
“-Rightfully so, considering your actions last Sunday- “
“-it is not my fault he has so fragile an ego, but that matters not for he is surely leading this boat so on purpose!” I speak, glaring at Kathani the entire time.
“Behena, docking can be difficult” Edwina speaks, loosening her grip on me.
“Oh, and with how many years of experience do have to know so, Ina di?” Sarcasm seeps in my tone despite my best intentions, and both the Sharmas look at me with an eyebrow raised.
I continue to glare, now at both of them. “Do not. That is my signature look.”
Kathani sighs, amused, “You are simply being paranoid, bon. As always.”
“I am being cautious.” I huff, even as I try to comport myself into a dignified position, subtly pushing Edwina off me and sitting up straight. The bunk bed sways and creaks under the weight of us three and the strain of the ship’s passage, the large lantern in the far corner of the room casting long shadows across the room. It did little to warm the late February chill that had cast over London; it had forced me to dress in my warmest sweater considering my body’s tendency to catch a cold. The small port window looked out towards the sea, black waves with pinpricks of lights from incoming vessels that gave the impression of yellow stars.
“..Ra? Saira?” A warm hand settled on my shoulder. Blinking, I turned my head towards the girls. Edwina and Kathani were looking at me worriedly. I supposed I had given my sisters enough reason to worry over the last few months. Clad in contrasting shades of pink and teal respectively, the light and the shadow, Edwina and Kathani were the picture of sisterly affection. Well, cousinly, really, considering I was their father’s niece, but years of co-habiting had ensured we had a specific brand of distaste for each other that only sisters had.
“Saira!” I was thrown out of my reverie as surely as I was thrown out of the bed. Barely catching myself from touching the floor, I grabbed Edwina’s arm with both of mine.
“Why are both of you so intent on getting my glares tonight, huh?” I say, crouching and barely maintaining my balance. Glaring. Of course.
“Because you were not”, Edwina yanked me back onto the bed, "listening. To either of us.” Her own glare was matching mine.
“Well, as someone said, I am paranoid and honestly, it is disorienting being on this bloody ship!” I huff again, refusing to meet Edwina’s eyes and glaring at the door behind her.
“Saira, do not swear! We will meet Lady Danbury in less than a day, how will she view us? As much as this bothers you- “
“Edwina, I believe, she is as nervous about this as you are,” Kathani interrupts, meeting my eyes over Edwina’s shoulders. She gives me a reassuring nod before addressing Edwina again, “She has a different way of expressing it. Why don’t you go and see if Mama is faring well up on deck.”
Edwina has her eyes narrowed still but she lets out a resigned sigh. Takes a deep breath. Smiles. “I understand how difficult it must be, Saira. Remember, you have nothing to fear.” She stands up and curtsies a small curtsy in jest, leaving the room with purpose in her step.
Purpose I fear may be misplaced. But I cannot let my fear bring Edwina down. I have accompanied her here to make things more manageable, not make a worse mess of them.
Kathani and I sit in the room, silent, side by side. She has lotus eyes and dark even skin that is the envy of all the ladies back home, something she does not know because all she hears of is the judgement for her and the praise for her sisters. Her thick, dark hair is wound tight in a bun, casting her angular face into sharp focus. As I gaze at her while she gazes at the fingers entangled in her skirts, I think of how, despite this being a trip made for Edwina’s future, the heaviest weight is on her. The ship lulls us into a rocky welcome as the dim roar of London’s port breaches the walls of the ship, and I ask her, sister in all but name, but most obviously guardian in all but relation, something which none of us had asked yet.
“Are you feeling alright?”
She straightens “Of course, nothing to worry about-“
“No,” I interrupt, folding a leg onto the mattress such that I am facing her, arms folded while I lean against the heavy book bag.
“No.” I say with more emphasis, eyebrows raised while Kathani looks confused.
“I want the truth and the truth only, Miss Sharma.” I speak in a posh voice, and Kathani looks to be horrified, amused and trapped, all three at once.
“Do not say it like that!”
“Why? We have been speaking English for the last month to ease ourselves in, we cannot let a … refined accent be our undoing. Also no you cannot divert the topic.” I say the last line without punctuation.
“Who said anything about diversion?”
“Didi. Speak.”
“I am fine!” Kathani exaggerates, laughing with panic in her eyes unseen to anyone else, “As Edwina said, we have nothing to worry about!”
I continue staring at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Saira.” Her voice is stern and unyielding.
“Kathani.” I am impetuous and determined. The fire in my sister’s eyes is soothed by the fact she can longer ground me for my defiance.
“I,” She looks to the side, and then glances at me, “am worried. Just slightly.” Her shoulders are tense with unease, and she speaks of the words as if they are foreign on her tongue. I nod in encouragement.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I ask, a tentative smile slipping on my face. Kathani’s shoulders loosen, and her sigh is of equal parts defeat and relief.
“This is going to be Edwina’s debut season, and she has tried so hard. Your sister has grown up to be the perfect lady, and I have no doubt she will have a barrage of suitors I will have to fend off.” She pauses.
“Go on.” I nod again. Finish the chapter.
Kathani gathers herself. “She will have a barrage of suitors, and we will be in a foreign country where we have no information about anyone, have no allies in, and holds ghosts for Mary in every corner.” I wince at the mention of her step-mother – Edwina’s mother, remembering what pieces I had heard of her story. Lady Mary Sheffield and Mehul Sharma were a love match, an Incomparable of her season who had run away with a widowed clerk from India.
No one had bothered with the fact that he was actually a royal secretary of the Thanjavur Royals – those who ruled over Southern India, succeded in power by only the High Royals of Delhi (for it was under their direct control that all the other kingdoms were run, forming the vast Indian Empire)- and therefore was by all means eligible in high society.
So Aunt Mary had been disowned and become a distant tale, yesteryear’s gossip and remembered only in passing distaste.
“You should not worry about it, bon”, Kathani stated, placing a hand on my shoulder. I place my hand on top of it.
“Everything,” I said, “will turn out fine, di. I’m here to help you in any way I am able.”
Kathani nodded, and I shook my head because she was giving her classic “head of management” nod which I admired only on the best days.
“No, didi, listen. You do not need to do this alone. Let me help.” I am pleading now, hoping she will for once get this idea in her head and keep it there permanently. Experience dictates she will not.
“And I will interfere if you do not let me,” I add, and Kathani’s eyes widen in response.
“Yes. I will. And you already know what I am capable of.” My lips are curled into a tight smile, not unlike a mischievous child.
Didi, instead, grabs my ankle on the bed. My expressions change from mischief to confusion to the horror of being caught red handed in two seconds.
“I can explain- “
“Saira.” Kathani orders.
“Yes didi.” My eyes dart across the room as she pulls the knife out of its sheath, tied above my ankle.
It’s a simple silver knife the length of my palm; its handle painted a dull black. There lamplight flickers across the blade, gleaming sharp and deadly.
Kathani looks at me over the knife. I find myself suddenly interested by the moth in the corner of the ceiling.
“Please do not.” I say, my eyes still averted towards to pretty moth. “I’m paranoid, as you know.”
“In England, Saira? Surely this island miles away from Bharat is safe for you.” Didi’s tone is beseeching, commandeering, saccharine. I know her expression from years of the same conversation in different locations; upturned lips, concerned eyes, the creases on her forehead as she asks me whether it is necessary. I steadfastly look past her every time before asking her to stop worrying and soothing her fears with a laugh and a hug. This time it gripes me like sandpaper on smooth skin, and I feel irritation bubbling inside me.
“That’s stupid” I snap, meeting her eyes. “Nowhere is safe, you know that.” My face is stone and I stare at her dead on.
“Bon, please, you can’t use this in England. It’s of no use.” Didi’s face is a canvas of emotions, and I can almost hear her questions.
I sigh. “I know, di. Old habits die hard, I guess.” I smile cheekily. Kathani is used to this by now. She puts the knife back in the sheath and pats it, sighing.
“Alright. But just until we reach Lady Danbury’s house. Understood?” I nod. She could have been a General in another life. With that in mind, I give her a two fingered-salute, and am rewarded by a light laugh.
“I’m going up to the deck for the docking. Do you wish to come?” Kathani asks, and her smile is a summer sun on a winter day, small and doting and reaching her whole face.
“I think I will stay down here didi.” I spread myself across the bed and stretch with ease. “My last night to sleep like a crab, isn’t it?” I smirk up at Kathani, and she huffs.
“Close the door on your way out!” I shout after her, and she does exactly that as she leaves.
I lay on the thin mattress in a small room with thin walls as London comes nearer. Murmurs slip through the cracks and shouts stumble through the black ceiling, dripping on me like candle wax in muted tones. It is a quiet dampened by shadows; the low light a comfort as I stare upwards unseeing.
The cabin shifts and skews, throwing me sideways, and I sit up straight. The window in front of me frames the scene: the London docks, teeming with lamps and crowds. I draw my legs up to my chest as I continue to watch the city come within reach: a London filled with balls and soirees, of gentlemen with sideburns and ladies with corseted gowns, and a monarchy which does not engage in colourism; Edwina’s city of dreams.
We enter the dock and the claps of joy permeate the air, even as the ship rocks sideways. The large lamp now holds a small flame, its fuel nearly run out. The city comes closer and I can see the carriages and the dock workers and the overdressed posh wonders. I slip my hand into my side pocket and take a delicately embellished shaft out, all while staring out at a city with no skyscrapers or prime minister, or train stations or airports, lit up with flames but dark compared to the city I once knew of. The city it will be.
But there is a kind of peace in the darkness, I think.
I flip the red-and-gold switchblade open, and the cheers start up-deck. As the ship docks, the little flame in the big lamp goes out, plunging the cabin into darkness.