The Travels of Anadrasata Nearabhigan: Day 16
So, Day 16 of her travels and Anadrasata is a little wrung out at the end of it.
This piece runs to 2,448 words, and I hope that you enjoy it.
Index Page.
Hakkarsday, 26 Ochd, 1893 C.E.
Dear Journal,
Shortly after I went to bed last night we rose to avoid a storm. There were a few flashes of lightning and thunder at a distance, but it was of little effect on us. Later on, in the early hours of the morning as we were descending again, I was woken by banging on my cabin door. When I lit my cabin's lights, I realised that whoever it was outside wasn't just knocking, they were hitting the door hard enough to shake it and the chair propped under the handle. I pulled the bellpull twice (once for a service such as fresh drinking water, twice for a real problem like illness, three times for a dire emergency like fire) and put on my dressing gown and slippers. Outside someone started shouting through the door - when the shouting became loud enough for me to distinguish words I heard something about "know what you're doing in there" and "you can't take him." The there were other, quieter voices, what may have been a struggle, and then after a few minutes, a quiet knock on my door and a man's voice asking for me.
I removed the chair, unlocked the door, and cautiously opened the door enough to look through the gap. One of the stewards was there, and he asked me if I was alright and assured me that it was safe to come out. I did emerge and found the hallway full of two stewards, Lord Retneseri and his man servant, Colonel Dhaiharai, Half Colonel dh'Zhangain, Major Mhainghair, and Mrs Gritteye's maid who was hurrying towards her mistress' room dressed in her own dressing gown and slippers with her hair tied up in rags. The ladies in the corridor were peering out of their doors.
I asked what had happened, and thanked the stewards for coming so promptly. After some awkward shuffling, glances towards Mrs Gritteye's cabin, and the arrival of the ship's doctor (who went straight into Mrs Gritteye's cabin), Colonel Dhaiharai ssaid that Mrs Gritteye had had some sort of episode and had not been herself. From what he had heard she had some sort of delusion about someone stealing her son away. There was some more awkward shuffling from the other men when he said that so I suspect that whatever Mrs Gritteye had said had been rather more specific, and unkind.
Mr Gritteye emerged from his mother's cabin, closing the door behind him, and came over to us. He was very apologetic, particularly to me. Apparently his mother had taken far too much of a potent sleeping medicine she used and the doctor felt that this was the source of her...agitation. He added, very apologetically, that she was fixated on me because I was unaccompanied and maidless, a state that in her mind rendered me desperate for a respectable alliance.
After a moment I thanked him for his explanation of a confusing event, and said that I thought his mother gave me far too much credit for cunning and wiles.
At this pint the stewards urged us all back to our cabins, assured themselves that I did not require any more assistance, and went to wait outside Mrs Gritteye's cabin in case the doctor required them.
I slept in a little later than usual this morning.
There was no need for me to say anything at breakfast about the early morning episode - everyone had received an early morning update with their hot water. According to my stewardess, Mrs Gritteye had managed to consume most of a bottle of Dr Portain's Remedy for Sleeplessness and Disturbed Nerves. Something like five or six times the recommended dose. The ship's doctor, I was told, had said things that the stewards would not repeat to the stewardesses.
Mr Gritteye sat with the Baron, his brother, and his secretary, discussing something over their food. I suspect that Mr Gritteye will be having a lot of serious discussions in the next few days. Lady Rhainail and Captain dh'Saidaign together with their children joined me after I sat down to eat. Their cabin is on the other corridor and when the Captain commented that they'd heard I'd had a disturbed night, I agreed that had been so, and hoped that they had not been disturbed too. Lady Rhainail commented that I was being very discrete, and I replied that I didn't feel it was my place to say anything - particularly as I didn't know anything, just what people had told me. I did say that I appreciated the stoutness of the Pearlish Queen's cabin construction. The I asked if they knew what wood the doors were made of? The Captain said he thought it was ironheart , and Lady Rhainail gave an opinion on its use in household interiors (she prefers bloodwood or blackbutt). The we moved on to other topics, including, but not limited to how much jam is reasonable to have on a five year old girl's toast and the relative merits of jellies, jams, and conserves.
I went twice around the promenade deck this morning and passed Lady Saidhelait and Major Vhenghair twice, walking in the opposite direction to myself. After that I went back to my cabin and worked on my Coatl - this morning's chapter introduced me to simple adverbs and I found the process soothing.
Because the Mhainghains are leaving us today, I made to leave my cabin in time to say goodbye to them in the lounge before they left the ship. That meant that I stepped out of my cabin in time to see Mrs Gritteye being carried out of hers on a stretcher carried by two large crewmen, attended by the ship's doctor, her son, and her lady's maid. I was about to go back into my cabin, Mrs Gritteye looked so pale, still and unwell under her blanket I was sure that she did not want to be gaped at, but Mr Gritteye saw me and walked over to me. He bowed and apologised for his mother's behaviour, I curtsied and wished her well for her recovery. [I fear this will be a difficult time for them all.] It was awkward, for both of us, and I do feel for him.
I went back into my cabin for a few minutes, to give them time to move on without feeling unnecessarily hurried, and then I made my way to the lounge. The Mhainghairs and the other officers disembarking today were already there [another major and a captain were leaving us in Neyeetteyeri too]. Mrs Gritteye, I am sorry to say, looked even more unwell in the better light of the lounge.
The Gritteyes left the ship in company with the ship's doctor and Mr Rhaimghairn - I gathered that the Baron had lent Mr Gritteye the services of Mr Rhaimghairn to facilitate suitable care being obtained for his mother. I hope she makes a full recovery - I know she was unkind to me, and that her current misfortunes are by her own hand, but I don't want her to be ill forever or die because of this.
Mr Rhaimghairn returned to the ship before we sailed. I know this because he was at lunch. We gained five new passengers today - three businessmen from the Kerajaa returning home and a textiles expert (Dr Paraikhas Ghairn) and his secretary/assistant whom the Doctor introduces as Rhaimais and constantly talks over. Because the Doctor decided that he and Rhaimais would sit with me at lunch, I ended the meal knowing more than I had thought I needed to on the subject of monumental tapestries. The Doctor is a personable man, but perhaps too fixated on the subject of tapestries.
After lunch I took a turn around the promenade deck and then took my embroidery to the balcony parlor. Mrs dh'Zhangain, her daughter, Lady Saidhelait, and Miss Ghaighan were there too. Lady Saidhelait continued with her novel, while the rest of use embroidered. I think Miss Aidelaist was missing the Mhainghair girls. The Dowager Countess joined us just before the tea tray arrived, and she sat on the chair adjacent to mine while Miss Ghaighan poured. While we were drinking our first cup of tea, she asked me if I knew why Mrs Gritteye had chosen my cabin door to hammer on last night. I told her that I'd given the matter some thought and her...fixation on the three unattached ladies who were of age in first class seemed to be an important factor. I pointed out that of these three, Lady Saidhelait outranked Mrs Gritteye, Miss Ghaighan and her ladyship were both under the Dowager Countess' protection, and, thirdly, my cabin was the closest of the three to Mrs Gritteye's.
The Dowager Countess gave a small chuckle and agreed that the simplest answer was probably right. Then she asked me why my family had let me leave home on this journey without a chaperone or even a maid. I took a moment to organise my thoughts, and explained that I lived with my widowed mother who supported us both with her jointure, so my contribution to the household was overseeing the servants and the day to day running of the house. A request for assistance from my mother's widowed aunt, who lives in Tlemutsiko, had arrived, and the family had decided that I should be the one to go. My mother's household budget didn't stretch to my having a personal maid, she had felt unable to spare one of the housemaids for the undetermined length of time I would be away, and she had assured my brother when he arranged my tickets that it would not be untoward for me to be travelling alone in first class. I added, by way of commentary, that I doubt that my mother has ever done so. The Dowager Countess, after we each got a second cup of tea, commented that she wasn't sure what Mrs Nearabhigan had been thinking. I politely corrected her as to my mother's name, and added that I was an offshoot.
The Dowager Countess and Mrs dh'Zhangain, who was on her other side, both got peculiar looks on their faces and I was suddenly the centre of adult attention in the room. Mrs dh'Zhangain said something about, "But you said you have no portion." I replied that I didn't - Father left me nothing in his will. The Dowager Countess replied, "But what about your trust fund? There had to have been one when you were made an offshoot - it's a requirement." I replied that no-one had ever said anything to me about a trust fund, and Mother had made a point of it that me support was coming out of her jointure.
The consensus of the adult ladies was that if I hadn't been lied to then a great deal of effort had gone into keeping me ignorant of my true situation, one way or another. Apparently if I am an offshoot, then there should be deposits in consols of an amount bringing at least twelve hundred a year (none of them were certain of the precise requirement.) The trust fund should also have been set up when I was declared an offshoot - which explains Father not leaving me anything in his will if he had already settled that much money on me.
And now I have so many questions. Some of Lord Elnaith's questions begin to make sense. If this trust fund exists, do I gain access to it when I cease to be Tallaig's ward? And why didn't anyone, including Father when he was alive, tell me any of this?
I sat quietly and drank my third cup of tea, and then asked all of the ladies not to mention this to the gentlemen. I pointed out that I knew now that there ought to be a trust, but I didn't want to go presenting myself as anything other than I thought myself at lunchtime until I knew the particulars.
But my whole family has been involved in this. Either there is a trust fund and no-one told me. No-one. Ever. Or there is another reason my name is different to everyone else's.
I went back to my cabin and cried for almost half an hour and then had to dress for dinner in a hurry.
At dinner I was seated between Mr Rhaimghairn and Mr Rhaimais at the Chief Engineer's table. Mr Rhaimais is much more understated than Dr Ghairn and, despite his excellent manners, readily admits to not being born a gentleman. Apparently he was a weaving journeyman when he met and joined forces with the Doctor, and now he advises on the care and repair of tapestries while the Doctor talks about provenance, history, and value. He has some very interesting stories about the things he has seen in their line of work - I suspect he may be the more stable member of their partnership. Mr Rhaimghairn was able to assure me that Mrs Gritteye is receiving the best available care - given that her doctor and apothecary don't know exactly what's in the mixture she took and can only be certain that she took too much in too short a time.
I went through to the balcony parlor with the other ladies because although I was feeling dislocated in myself, and not keen on being social, I also didn't want to be alone. I poured the tea when the tray came in because it didn't require me to make conversation -0 just check how people liked their tea. After tea, the Dowager Countess pulled me into her maistoto game, saying that I was a reasonable player. That put me on my merit to pay attention to my cards. There was another table playing koh, Major Vhenghahair and Lady Saidhelait had a rematch (perhaps they’re playing for best of five?), and I think the Kerajaan gentlemen were playing the card matching game that Lord Retneseri had showed us. The Lieutenants and Mr Naigheargain had gone to play billiards straight after they'd had their tea, and the Doctor had cornered a few people on a settee to talk about tapestries.
I excused myself after the sixth hand of maistoto and as the airship began to ascend, I was not the only one who wanted to avoid the possibility of stumbling around in a storm, and about half th4e company made their way to their cabins at the same time.
I can hear thunder outside as I finish these notes, and I think it is well and truly time to put myself to bed.
Anadrasata Nearabhigan