August 1809
By the time Madhav received final confirmation from Thomas Ashford, the prospect of leaving Calcutta had become considerably more definite. The terms of employment had been agreed, and Ashford had confirmed that he would arrange temporary accommodation for Mr and Mrs Basu on their arrival in Penang. There would be work for Madhav, a modest but dependable income, and a reasonable prospect of establishing themselves in a new place.
There remained the question of passage.
Madhav had made enquiries through his commercial connections and had learned that a British merchant brig, the Meridian, was expected to sail from Calcutta for Penang in September. She carried cargo between the ports and occasionally took a small number of passengers when suitable accommodation was available. It was not a regular passenger service, and arrangements had to be made directly through the ship’s agent.
After some correspondence and enquiries, Madhav was able to secure passage for two people, with a private cabin for himself and Jemimah. The passage was booked in the names of Mr and Mrs Basu, and the captain had been informed that they would be travelling together as husband and wife.
The expected sailing date was Friday, 15 September 1809.
When Madhav next saw Jemimah, he told her that the arrangements had been confirmed.
“So it is settled?” she asked.
“The passage is secured, and the captain expects to sail on the fifteenth. Naturally, a ship’s departure is always subject to circumstances, but that is the date we have been given.”
“And we shall have our own cabin?”
“Yes. It is not large, but it will be private, and there will be room for our belongings.”
Jemimah nodded. She had imagined the journey many times, but the knowledge that they now had a particular ship and a particular date made it seem suddenly close.
“Friday the fifteenth,” she repeated. “It is strange to think that we shall leave Calcutta on a day which, to everyone else, will be quite ordinary.”
“Most departures are ordinary to those who are not making them.”
She smiled, though the thought brought a moment of sadness.
They began to consider what Jemimah would take with her. She had already understood that there would be little room for unnecessary possessions, and that she must be sensible. She could not take the contents of her dressing room, nor the books and household things which had accumulated around her over many years. They would be travelling as two passengers, not transporting an entire household.
“I shall need a travelling case,” she said. “Something I can manage without attracting attention.”
“That would be best. We must remember that we shall have to carry only what is necessary for the journey and our first days in Penang.”
“I shall take a few changes of clothes, suitable for travelling and for the climate when we arrive. My shawl, of course, and some writing materials. I cannot imagine beginning a new life without being able to write.”
“And books?”
“Three, I think. I shall have to choose carefully.”
“I should not like to be asked to make such a choice.”
“You would take too many.”
“Almost certainly.”
She laughed, and for a moment the conversation felt like one of their earlier exchanges, when the future had been a subject of curiosity rather than a matter of immediate consequence.
Jemimah thought about the things she would leave behind. There were books she had read since childhood, small objects which had been given to her by her sisters, and possessions which had little value but carried memories. She would have to be selective, choosing only those things which mattered most.
There was also the locket she wore beneath her dress. Inside it were small locks of hair from Georgiana and Frances. She had no intention of leaving it behind.
“I shall take very little jewellery,” she said, “but there are a few things I cannot leave.”
“I would not ask you to.”
“My journal must come too. I think I shall have a great deal to write about.”
“I hope you will write of the good things as well as the difficulties.”
“I expect I shall write of both.”
He smiled. “Then I shall have to remember to give you something worth writing about.”
“I imagine you will provide me with plenty, whether you intend to or not.”
They discussed the practicalities of the journey: the clothing she would need, the things which could be packed into her case, and what might be obtained after they arrived. Madhav reminded her that Ashford would arrange for someone to meet them at the port, and that they would not be obliged to carry every necessity with them.
There was also the question of how they would reach the ship.
It would be unwise for them to arrive separately at the docks with their travelling cases and attract unnecessary attention. They agreed that they should meet at a familiar place, away from the immediate bustle of the riverfront, and travel together from there.
“What about Tank Square?” Jemimah suggested. “We both know it well, and it is far enough from the riverfront that we should not attract attention.”
“The southern side, near Old Court House Street?” Madhav asked.
“Yes. We could meet there and go down to the river together.”
Madhav considered it.
“I think that would be suitable. I can arrange a carriage to meet us nearby. We shall collect our cases and continue to the ship.”
“And what time?”
“Eight o’clock. That should give us sufficient time to reach the Meridian before she is ready to sail.”
“Then eight o’clock on the fifteenth, at Tank Square.”
He looked at her.
“It will be a very early morning for you.”
“I doubt I shall sleep much the night before.”
“Nor shall I, I suspect.”
They were silent for a moment. The date and place had become real between them. There was no longer the comfort of speaking vaguely of a future in Penang. They now had a day, a meeting place and a vessel on which they would leave their familiar lives behind.
Jemimah knew that she would need help with the final arrangements.
“I shall need Georgiana’s help with my case. I cannot take it out of the house myself without attracting attention. She could arrange for it to be taken somewhere near Tank Square, where we can collect it on the morning of our departure.”
“That seems sensible. But it must be somewhere safe.”
“Of course. I would not leave it unattended. I think she might be able to find someone trustworthy, perhaps a shopkeeper or the keeper of a small lodging house nearby, who would agree to hold it for a few hours. They need not know anything of our circumstances. Georgiana could simply explain that a friend would collect it later that morning.”
Madhav nodded.
“That would be much better than leaving it somewhere it might be moved or taken.”
“I shall also need to leave a letter for Mama and Papa. I want them to know that I have gone willingly, and that I have not left because I love them any less. But I cannot allow the letter to be delivered before the Meridian has sailed.”
“Georgiana could take responsibility for that too?”
“I believe she would. But I shall not ask her until the arrangements are certain. I do not want her to carry the burden of a plan which might still come to nothing.”
Madhav understood. Georgiana had already been entrusted with Jemimah’s confidence, but she had not yet been asked to take part in their departure. Jemimah wanted to be certain that there was something definite to offer her before involving her further.
“When the time comes,” he said, “you must tell her everything she needs to know. She should not be asked to take responsibility for something without understanding what is expected of her.”
“I agree. I shall explain the arrangements and let her decide how best to help.”
They said no more about it then. There were still several days before the departure, and Jemimah did not wish to involve her sister prematurely.
Over the next few days, Madhav made certain that the passage had been properly recorded and that the payment had been received. He also confirmed that the captain understood they would be travelling as Mr and Mrs Basu. There was no reason for the ship’s company to concern themselves with their private circumstances.
He continued to attend to his usual business responsibilities, taking care that nothing in his conduct suggested that he intended to leave Calcutta. He discussed ordinary matters with his father and continued with the work expected of him, while quietly ensuring that anything requiring his personal attention would be properly dealt with. Raghunath remained entirely unaware of his son’s intentions, although Madhav knew that, when the time came, he would have to face the consequences of leaving.
Jemimah, meanwhile, began to consider how she might make the necessary preparations without attracting attention. She did not pack her travelling case yet, for there was no need to draw notice to any change in her habits. She had already discussed with Madhav what she could reasonably take, and knew that she must be content with a few necessities and the personal possessions she most valued. For the present, she confined herself to thinking about how she might gather these things together and arrange for the case to be taken from the house without exciting suspicion.
As the days passed, Jemimah found herself looking at familiar streets and buildings with a new attentiveness. She knew that she would soon see them for the last time, perhaps for many years. The city which had once seemed so strange to her had become home. Its river, its busy streets, the sounds of its markets and the changing seasons had entered her life so gradually that she had scarcely noticed how much she had come to depend upon them.
She thought, too, of the people she would leave behind. Her parents, her sisters, Jane, and the friends she had made within the British community. At Basu Bari she would miss Annapurna’s quiet kindness, Kamala’s companionship and Anandamayi’s liveliness. She knew that Madhav would miss his family just as deeply.
They had chosen to leave, but neither had ceased to love the people and places which had shaped their lives.
There was still much to be done. Georgiana would need to be told, the travelling case arranged, and the letter to her parents prepared. The precise arrangements for the carriage and the collection of their belongings would have to be confirmed. Yet the essential matters were now settled. The Meridian was booked, the date fixed, and their meeting place chosen.
Only the final preparations remained.
Jemimah had once imagined that leaving Calcutta would feel like an act of liberation. Now she understood that it would also be an act of separation. She was not leaving because the city had ceased to matter to her, or because the people she loved had become unimportant. She was leaving because she and Madhav had chosen a life together which they could not make here.
She had chosen to leave it, but she did not love it any less.
And now, with the date of departure approaching, she knew that the hardest part was no longer deciding to go. It was preparing to say goodbye.