An Absent Wife Read Online Free

had just been completed and extended in London. It felt like the whole city was under construction, transitioning into the new world. He felt pride in his own people and the achievements they had made. Their influence had extended all over the world, as had the enthusiasm for improvement and progress. He knew that while the things he was experiencing were overwhelming, he would be glad he had seen them, in hindsight.
    A man came and told him that his travel had been organised and he would be collected when the time was near. He appreciated the clear efficiency of the organisation in the midst of the chaos outside this little tranquil haven.
    He was escorted to his compartment when it was time to leave. There was chaos even on the platform, but as soon as he stepped into the first carriage of the train and sat down in his allocated compartment, he was encased in a little bubble of serene calm and luxury. The heat was still pervasive and he hoped that the movement of the train would generate a bit of a draft, or he would swelter before he ever reached Calcutta.
    Sitting patiently, he watched the madness outside his window until he heard the whistle and felt the steam engine strain as it slowly pulled them away, providing him with a view of the madness of the city. The perception of utter chaos didn’t desist until they left the city and they were traveling through the open countryside. It was beautiful and exotic—nothing like the English countryside. Buffalos were used to plow fields. He even saw the odd camel along the way as they passed small mud-brick villages. The color and the light were completely different as well, softer and more golden.
    The food was excellent, which pleased him. He gave into his exhaustion as soon as dusk set in and had the train butler prepare his compartment for the night as soon as his supper was cleared away. The only unfortunate thing was the lack of a dining cart, which meant that this service had limited options for socializing or even moving about the train.
    He grew used to the constant movement of the train, but the stops woke him. The noise of people loading mail and goods on and off the train throughout the night interrupted his sleep, but those same stops gave him a few moments to walk around and smoke during the daytime. It was a good chance to meet and talk to the other passengers in the first-class carriage. The stations away from the cities weren’t as crowded and it was pleasant to take a turn around the platform.
    Lysander wasn’t surprised by the madness of Calcutta when he arrived , being no different from Bombay, maybe even warmer, but he wasn’t sure. He had himself transported to the offices of the Colonial Office to meet the man, a Mr Parsons, who had initially sent him the telegraph informing him of his wife’s death.
    They greeted each other and Mr Parsons informed him that sadly her remains had been incinerated and Lysander confirmed that he had expected it.
    “Her effects are still being held at the hotel she was staying at, awaiting instructions from her family.”
    “I have come to collect them.”
    “Of course, ” Mr Parsons said somberly. “I will run you over there.”
    T hey were met outside by a horse-drawn carriage carrying the British Royal seal. It was a more stable ride than the rickshaws, but also more cumbersome on the narrow streets.
    It was clear that Mr Parsons was uncomfortable with the task of assisting him in retrieving his wife’s effects from the place where she had been living with her lover. The whole concept made him feel uncomfortable as well, if more for the unspoken things.
    They arrived at the hotel and it was a large structure with a sizeable stairway leading up to the main lobby. The floor was tiled black and white in the open and cool space of the lobby, where a large dark wood desk was manned by a British man who Mr Parsons seemed to be familiar with. They spoke quietly amongst themselves before the man smiled at Lysander.
    “Yo