No Country: A Novel by Kalyan Ray Page A

to our left like a low cloud. There were clouds aplenty above us, great piles of slate, promising a drizzle. They said that this part of England gets sodden for days. We wandered about the deck, munching our bread, and saw a number of large and smaller ships lying at anchor. I wondered impatiently when we would get ashore. Some of the crew had already spied bedraggled creatures along the quayside, brazenly waving to them. I saw thatone of them had an open Oriental fan in her hand, like a full deck of cards—and she fanned herself, while touching her bared breast with the other.
    But first, provisioning boats arrived from the chandlers—more sides of dry beef, sacks of flour, barrels of rum from the sweetish smell, and bales of coloured cloth. Then the new recruits came aboard. There would be little turning room belowdecks. But what did it matter? Soon to be on London ground with a whistle on my lips and gold coins in my shirt, I waited impatiently for Mr. Connolly to give the order, but it was already noon and mealtime. We were given large portions of bread and dried beef. I ate with relish, as I had worked up an appetite. One of the sailors joked, “Eat up, boys—and those that can’t, give me your share—for I will need my strength tonight. I saw pretty Dolly or whatever her name be, waiting for me by the quay.” They clapped his back in companionable mirth.
    At the captain’s call we gathered on deck. A steady wind had set in from the land by late morning, clearing the clouds, and a golden slab of sun fell on the waterway. It had turned into a glorious autumn day.
    Mr. Connolly, on the upper deck, looked at all the men gathered on the deck. Some lascars stayed on the rigging, listening. Suddenly one new recruit, a greenhorn in well-fed euphoria, sang out, “God bless ye, Mr. Connolly, and this ship on this grand day.”
    I waited with bated breath to see what would happen. He would like as not get the whip, for he had dared to speak out of turn from the deck, directly to the captain no less. But Mr. Connolly, smiling broadly, said in his booming voice, “A glorious day to ye all.” The ship broke into cheers.
    “I’ve told our steward, Mr. Philpot, to give ye a full measureof rum,” said Mr. Connolly, “with the evening bread and extra beef.” Mr. Philpot waved from the side of the lower deck, acknowledging the great hurrah that rose all around the ship. The new recruits were looking around with shining faces, expecting this to be a Christmas ship itself.
    “My good men,” continued Mr. Connolly, “do ye see all the good signs? The sun has broken through, the wind is steady—and I know the winds. We’ll cast off now, men. Soon we will be west of France, then to the Africa coast and the Good Cape, and away to India. Let’s drink to that with our good rum!”
    I heard mutters and wary grumbling, but no one dared to raise his voice. The disappointment about the sorry wharfside wenches faded, and the lascars sprang upon the rigging to let out the sails, which shook loose, filling with wind, and the ship slid seaward.
    Staring with a sick heart at the receding land, I thought how I had found myself rich and lucky. Now I wished myself shoeless and penniless on that alien strand; I would surely have found my way back, somehow, to my lost home in Mullaghmore.
    As I looked, the name of this damned place, painted on a faded wharf struck my eyes: Gravesend. I was being taken to India, on the other side of the earth, away from my waiting mother, sweet Brigid, and my friend Brendan. I felt my heart was dying. It was the thirteenth day of October 1843.
    I went down to the hold and wept.

Brendan
Mullaghmore, County Sligo
1845
    A great disquiet descended on us when Padraig did not return by Christmas. Mrs. Aherne took Mr. O’Flaherty with her down to Sligo to consult with Peter O’Connor, the businessman who knew some important people in Dublin. His recommendation was that we conduct an inquiry in Dublin