River of Smoke - Amitav Ghosh [142]
What was he to do now? This was a place where there were no boats for hire, and no passers-by to ask for help. He was about to turn around, to follow the lantern-bearers back to Punhyqua’s estate, when he heard, to his great relief, a distant tinkling, like the sound of a boat’s bell. It seemed to be coming up the creek, making its way slowly through the fog: the boatman must have wandered off and got lost somewhere; what he needed was a proper dumbcowing, something that would make him forget his mother’s name for a while. As he stood waiting, Bahram began to dredge from his memory every Cantonese obscenity he had ever heard, stringing them together for the tirade that he would unleash when the fellow arrived.
But the boat which presently appeared was not the one that had brought him there: it was brightly illuminated, by a constellation of paper lanterns, and its outlines could be seen, through the fog, as it approached the jetty: its stern was carved to look like a gigantic fishtail, rising out of the water in an elegant curve.
Astounded, Bahram stared at the apparition, wondering whether it might not be part of some sort of wine-induced hallucination. Then he heard a voice calling across the water: ‘Mister Barry! Mister Barry!’
It was Allow again: the bahenchod must have paid off the boatman and sent him away, so that he might have another opportunity to obtain a deal. That was clear enough – what was less plain was how he had known that he, Bahram, would be here, on this out-of-the-way jetty? Why had the lantern-bearers, usually so solicitous, slipped away so quickly? Could it be that Allow had some informer amongst Punhyqua’s people?
Or was it just the wine that was inspiring these visions of plots and conspiracies?
No matter, he was where he was – standing on a jetty in some jungly place – so it was no use getting too prickly. And the truth was that whether out of sheer relief, or because of the warming effects of the wine, he was very glad to see the boat, and Allow too. But of course, it wouldn’t do to betray this, so he cleared his throat and let loose in Cantonese: Diu neih Allow! Diu neih louh mou! Diu neih louh mou laahn faa hai!
‘Sorry, Mister Barry. Very sorry.’
‘Allow, you bloody bahnchoding bahn-chaht, where my boat? You talkee man and send away?’
‘Allow too muchi sorry, Mister Barry. Allow wanchi makee nice surprise – give ride in Allow boat. Just I get little-bit late.’
‘You make too muchi bobbery for Mister Barry. Look-see here: Mister Barry alone in jungle. What if snake did catchi?’
The boat had pulled up to the jetty in the meanwhile, so Allow stepped out and gave Bahram a deep bow. ‘Sorry, Mister Barry, very sorry ah. Come now, Allow takee Mister Barry to Achha Hong.’
There was no option now but to accept this invitation, but Bahram had no intention of pretending to be grateful. Ignoring Allow, he stalked brusquely up the gangplank to the stern of the vessel.
Ahead lay the large, hall-like room that had once housed Chi-mei’s eatery. The entrance had been transformed into an opulent gateway, with dragons and phoenixes writhing upon the door jambs. One of the doors was half-open and Bahram could see the figure of a woman inside, silhouetted against a red lamp. The sight startled him, reminding him suddenly of Chi-mei. He had a vision of her, hurrying through that hallway to greet him, calling out, in her high, tinkling voice: ‘Mister Barry! Mister Barry! Chin-chin.’
He came to a stop but Allow was close behind him and he made as if to usher Bahram towards the entrance. ‘Mister Barry no wanchi come in?’
Bahram turned his eyes away from the shadowed