Arrival in Madras
Margaret, Esperanza, and a jumpy Shirley arrive at Madras train station without incident.
Margaret whispers quickly to Esperanza “remember; we are Uncle Gus and Tante Belle, and you are my niece Maria.”
The train station is very crowded with all kinds of people. There are a few police on duty, but they are mostly just observing, as the crowd, while rowdy, does not appear to be violent–just in a hurry. The noise level is quite high, with people shouting in a dozen languages. Esperanza murmurs that she never imagined so many people could fit in one train station.
There are also several vendors around the perimeter of the station, some of the wares-spread-out-on-a-blanket variety, others selling a wide variety of food. Along with the normal smells that the trio has learnt to associate with rail travel, there are all kinds of utterly unfamiliar, but tantalizing, food smells.
Local transport options include hired carriages, a rickshaw-like contraption, carts and wagons drawn by oxen or donkeys, the occasional bicycle, and the universally popular feet. Porters are also available for hire.
All in all, it appears to be a normal train station, albeit a very busy one.
“Right,” Shirley says, under the shrieking of the brakes. “Our goals are to retrieve our baggage, hop in a couple of carriages, and off to Government House as quietly as possible. We will use porters *only* to take our bags to a carriage, so as to avoid mention of Government House — the extra expense is regrettable but necessary. If we can — I am not familiar with Madras — we should give an initial destination near to Government House, and tell the drivers differently later.”
“I think, if we can fit, we would do best to take one carriage,” says Margaret. “As Englishmen coming to take up new post in Madras, our trunks would be completely unexceptional, but money for two carriages most unusual.”
“I agree, but we are rather encumbered. If we should have to take two, I believe Maria should be odd person out.” Left unsaid — Shirley and Margaret are targets; Esperanza is not.
“I have another idea” Margaret says. She is most uncomfortable with the thought of Esperanza potentially on her own here. “It would not be unusual, either. We can check some of our trunks with the stationmaster if they won’t all fit on the carriage, to be delivered later. That is quite common.” She takes his arm with one hand, and picks up her basket with the other…the picture of the young domestic matron. She grins; in spite of the potential seriousness of the situation, she’s having fun with the act. “Well, my dear? Shall we go report to your new commander?”
Esperanza stops abruptly, with a look of sudden remembrance on her face. She enthusiastically fishes around in the small carrying bag that has rarely been out of her possession since leaving Gibraltar. She pulls out a sheaf of slightly crumpled papers. “Uncle Gus? Before we leave, Papa gave me a few maps, his extra copies–Glasgow, Hong Kong, and Madras.” She plucks the map of Madras out of the roll and hands it to Shirley. It is a British Army map of Madras, dated 1880. It is far more likely that the Colonel, rather than her father, gave her the maps, but she is very conscious of the need for discretion.
“Maria, you are a treasure. Bless you.” “Maria” beams, happy to have gotten Shirley’s praise at last, rather than being dismissed like an annoying chaperone or some sort of child. The main courthouse is across the street from Government House, and the records office is ’round the corner. “Hm,” Shirley says, scrutinizing the map. “The courthouse, I think, unless anyone has any objections. Belle? Maria?”
Margaret shrugs. “Neither is likely for a relocating family… but the Courthouse is likelier than the records office. It will do.”
Esperanza shrugs also, with eloquent indifference; in the course of the trip across the subcontinent, she has developed a deep fascination with all things Indian, and is obviously interested in trying to figure out how to get “Tante Belle” to the bazaar later on. Not to mention that the food smells heavenly, and although polite young ladies aren’t supposed to have much of an appetite — especially for spicy foods — she most certainly does. Margaret notices the wistful look. “Don’t worry” she tells Esperanza aside. “Once we have signed in at Government House, we will try to arrange a trip to the bazaar. It does smell heavenly, doesn’t it? And I want to get some silks, even if I have to ship them home. My family has a man of business here; perhaps we can get him to take us around while Uncle Gus is busy.” And she give the girl a thoroughly conspiratorial wink.
The porters all appear to be very busy, and after much fruitless hand-waving, “Maria” gets impatient and calls out in one of the local languages, in a manner as ladylike as possible, considering the volume. This attracts sufficient porters, with whom she bargains in a very animated fashion. The smaller bags go into the carriage, and the trunks begin their journey. She turns around to her putative aunt and uncle and says, disingenously, “To the courthouse?”
Margaret is doing her best not to look completely stunned. This is her “niece”; she should know what the girl is capable of. “Yes, and thank you, dear! You are full of surprises still, aren’t you?”
Uncle Gus suppresses a shout of laughter. “After you, my dear niece,” he says, motioning toward the carriage-stand. Everyone piles into the carriage, which takes off at a brisk pace in the direction of the courthouse. The sights, sounds, and smells are mesmerizing, and Maria delights in pointing out an elephant making its way down a crowded cross-street.
The courthouse and Government house are impressive sandstone monuments, with classical European lines that seem out of place with the Oriental air of the city. The carriage pulls up to the very steps of the courthouse, and Maria happily bounds down to the hot pavement.
“Slowly, Miss Impetuosity,” says Uncle Gus, with a smile just the least bit brittle. This is, after all, the most dangerous place in Madras for them just now. The street is less crowded than the train station, and there is a larger percentage of Anglos in the crowd. However, nobody seems to take any particular notice of
the new arrivals. The crowd appears to be almost entirely focused on its own business. Nobody is scanning the crowd, except for the guards at Government House and the courthouse, and Margaret does not hear anything amiss.
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