Read Online Flood of Fire by Amitav Ghosh - Free Book Online

circumstances that his flagship, the Anahita , had perforce been sold off at Hong Kong, to one Benjamin Burnham, an English businessman, for a price far below the vessel’s value. Even the houses Bahram had built for his daughters would need to be sold. Fortunately she, Shireen, was provided for – she still had this apartment, in their family house; at least she would never have to worry about having a roof over her head. And her sons-in-law were both doing well; they had decided to put money into a fund that would provide her with a monthly allowance. She would have to economize of course, but still with a bit of care she would certainly be able to get by.
    At this point an odd thing happened. A butterfly flitted through an open window, hovered over their heads for a bit, and then settled briefly on a framed portrait of Bahram. Shireen gasped and pulled off her veil: the portrait was one that Bahram had brought back from Canton many years before. It showed him in a dark blue choga, sitting with his knees slightly apart, his square face, with its neatly trimmed beard, looking startlingly handsome, a smile curling his lips.
    Shireen had always believed that even the most trivial occurrences could be freighted with meaning; to her it seemed self-evident that when things happened in conjunction – even small things – the connections were never without significance. Now, even after the butterfly had flown away, she could not wrench her gaze from the portrait. Bahram seemed to be looking directly at her, as though he were trying to tell her something.
    Shireen took a deep breath and turned to her brothers: Tell me; is there any chance at all that some part of my husband’s investments may be recovered?
    They glanced at each other and began to murmur in low, regretful voices, as if to apologize for quashing her hopes.
    There was indeed a chance, they said, that some of the money might be recovered. Bahram was not the only foreign merchant to have his goods seized; many others, including several importantBritish businessmen, had surrendered their cargoes to Commissioner Lin. The authorities in London would not allow these confiscations to pass unchallenged: they were not like Indian rulers, who cared nothing for the interests of businessmen – they understood full well the importance of commerce. It was rumoured that they were already planning to send a military expedition to China, to demand reparations. If there was a war and the Chinese lost, as was likely, there was a good chance that some of Bahram’s money would be returned.
    But …
    Yes? said Shireen.
    But when the time arrived for the distribution of the recovered funds, there would be no one at hand to represent Bahram. There was sure to be a scramble for the funds and the other merchants would be there in person, present and ready to claim their share.
    Shireen’s mind cleared as she thought about this. But couldn’t we send someone to represent us? she asked. What about Vico?
    They shook their heads. Vico had already declined, they said. He was after all only Bahram’s purser and had no standing either with the Canton Chamber of Commerce or the British government. The foreign merchants of Canton were a tight little circle, impossible for outsiders to penetrate. Bahram had himself been a member of that group, so they might well be sympathetic to his family’s claims if approached by a blood relative – but unfortunately there was no one to play that part for Bahram.
    Shireen knew exactly what was being implied – that things would have been different if she and Bahram had had a son to represent their interests. She had so long tormented herself with this thought that she had no patience for it now. But what about me? she said, blurting out the first words that came to mind: What if I were to go myself?
    They stared at her, aghast. You?
    Yes.
    You? Go to China? You’ve never even stepped out on the street by