Book 8 : 762-763

10 May 670 / 762

I am no longer Laanoha’s Railway Office Manager. I resigned and my deputy, Imbaal, is taking over. This is a great relief. Aari says I am too gentle to be in charge; I say I’m too soft. The pay has been good, and we have bought our little house, all paid for. And we paid for our firewood to be delivered, so last winter I did not try to carry two hefts of firewood, not even one.

But the work has been very stressful. I have had the committee on my back all the time, telling me that I don’t push my staff hard enough. And I know my staff, and how hard they work, and how hard their lives are, and I won’t push them so hard they break. I think Imbaal will understand his staff too, but he will be stronger than I was in dealing with the committee.

Aari has work in Behmi’s kitchen. The pay is not a lot, but we don’t need a lot now we own our house. I can earn money collecting seaweed and shellfish in season, and we will manage. But I will visit the port office again and see if they need a clerk now.

I am looking forward to spending more time with my little girl, and not being too tired and stressed to pay her any attention. She is three years old and talks non-stop.

16 May

While Maama was at work this morning, Riini and I walked all the way to the point, and looked back at the other side of Laanoha. We could see the bridge piers and the beginnings of the latticework growing out sideways from four of them. We couldn’t see anyone working, or anything moving at all – too far. Should we go over to that side of town tomorrow, Riini, and take a closer look?

Vigorous nodding.

On the way back we collected two whole bags of mussels and the very best seaweed – we were there at the very bottom of the tide. Riini got a bit wet so once the bags were full I picked her up and put her on my shoulders to get her home and dry and warm as quickly as possible, and now she’s gone to sleep. I think she’s had a good morning though.

Maama will be home soon, and then I’ll take the mussels and seaweed to Behmi. If Riini hadn’t got wet we’d have taken them already.

17 May

Riini and I went to look at the bridge from close by today. We watched the workmen clambering about on the latticework attaching new spars, carefully matching the way the lattice is growing on each side of the pier, to keep it properly balanced. The first two piers on this side will be joined together soon, but the middle six piers have a lot of stonework to do before they can start on the latticework. The middle two are only just above the waterline so far.

Behmi was very pleased with the mussels and seaweed yesterday. It’s quite like old times, she said.

While I was in town without Riini, I popped into the port office. They’d heard I’d resigned, and wanted to know why; they said they don’t need another clerk just at the moment, but they’ll keep me in mind. They say they’ve heard only good words about me, which is nice to hear.

They wondered if I knew Bhoemari. They have a ship from Bhoemar anchored just outside the harbour, and the captain has only a poor grasp of Laana. He speaks Perruhia, and they have someone who knows Perruhia, but it’s a second language for both parties, so not ideal. I didn’t draw their attention to the fact that Laana is a second language for me. Truth to tell it scarcely is by now.

If they ever need English… They say they very rarely have English speaking captains here. It has happened, but not for about fifteen years. You never know, they say. They’ve never even heard of Manafai, and I don’t bother to mention French or German.

24 May

Imbaal called round yesterday evening to ask how I was, and how we would cope. He said the staff have been asking after us, and one of them had organized a collection for a present for me. He said it’ll be delivered as soon as it’s ready, but wouldn’t say what it was. I am touched.

If I can keep collecting seaweed and shellfish at this rate until mid-autumn and Behmi can keep making use of it, we’ll have saved enough to survive the winter comfortably, with a good bit to spare.

Riini loves our walks, which makes me very happy.

19 June 670 / 762

I have work at the port office. It may be temporary, but it’s for at least a season. Work has begun on new breakwaters beyond the old ones, to allow bigger ships inside again. They have a lot more workmen, so there’s more paperwork in the office too. Behmi says they’ll see how they cope with a three-year-old in the kitchen, but if they can’t Priila next door will look after her for a coin a day. She gets on quite well with Priila’s children, but it can be a bit of a madhouse, and she is a lot younger than them.

29 June

Greyr! It’s good to see an old friend, and he is an old friend, even if we were only together for, what, two weeks two years ago. He came into the port office yesterday, then came home with me to see Aari and Riini. He stayed with us for the night, but has gone to his family in Zhaam now.

Aibram is well, which is good to hear. Vinhaassa is back in service after major repairs – she was holed on an ancient wreck a year ago, and they had quite a scare. They think the wreck must have shifted for some reason, because they didn’t have a record of it before, and it wasn’t even low tide when they hit it.

They stuck fast, and the hole got bigger as they sank and the tide went down. At least the ship remained structurally sound, and sat firmly and almost upright. The tidal range there is only three feet and the water came up inside and she didn’t float off and go and sink somewhere else, she just sat there.

They were there three days, then a local fisherman in a canoe responded to their signalling for help. He was very happy to take two coins to take a message to Bhoemar, with a promise of another two when he came back with the boat builder.

The boat builder managed to make a temporary repair from the inside at low tide, and got them floated off with the rising tide. Then they went back to Bhoemar for proper repairs.

It could have been much worse.

We have sent our greetings to Aibram and Kazhiir, and Kazhiir’s fihihi, with our hopes that he’ll be able to play it now it’s fixed. We will get a new one for Aari, Laanoha being the home of the fihihi, but she insisted Kazhiir should get his one back.

Greyr says Kazhiir will probably visit next year.

Aari says I have to write that he brought five hundred coins if we’d like to exchange them for fifty thousand nrega, which we did. It’s a better rate than we got last time, but the value of money changes, and whether either of them is a good rate or a bad rate we’ll never know.

He said Kazhiir will probably bring more next year, but how many he has no idea. And it’s only probably, we mustn’t rely on it.

With the five hundred coins we’re really quite comfortably off now anyway.

We had a good sing-song last night, and the neighbours all came round to see what was going on, and joined in. They said they had no idea we were musicians, and we said we’re not really, we just enjoy a bit of singing and playing, and they said we were good. Which just goes to show they like us but don’t know a lot about music.

It was a bit crowded in our little room!

23 July 670 / 762

Greyr called in at the port office today. He sends his regards to Aari and Riini and our neighbours, but he’s got a place on a ship leaving for Tonki on the early tide tomorrow, so he can’t come and visit again.

24 July

I’d almost forgotten that Imbaal had told us about a present. What a present! We have a little sailing boat, delivered today. Touched? I was before, but now I am overwhelmed. So is Aari. Just big enough for the three of us, when Riini gets big. Beamy enough to use for fishing or gathering kelp. Kelp is even better than what I called the best seaweed before.

I’ve been continuing to supply seaweed and shellfish to Behmi, going out with Riini in the early morning before going to work. Exactly how we’ll organize ourselves now I’m not sure yet, but – I don’t know what to say.

The chap from the boatyard delivered her and dragged her up to the back of the house for us. Aari says I’m not to drag her up on my own, but she and I dragged her a few feet together just to check that we can, and it was easy. Riini helped too. I’m not sure how much difference she made, but it won’t be long before she can make a big difference, I’m sure.

She doesn’t have a name yet. The chap from the boatyard said we’re to take her into the yard when we’ve chosen a name, and their sign painter will paint it on for us.

I suggest Vinhaassa, and Aari laughs. Not a bad name, she says, but better a thousand miles from where anyone knows Zhaama or Maara. You want to sail the Laughing Pirate?

Maybe not. Some folk might not think it was funny.

31 July

She’s called Senghori, after the captain I sailed with all those years before we were shipwrecked. We’ve been out in her a few times, but we’ve not been as far as the boatyard yet, which is on the estuary side of town. We’ve not been right around the point yet – you have to give the point a wide berth, there’s a line of rocks well out to sea. So her name isn’t painted on yet.

I can’t safely pull kelp aboard on my own – in fact it’s better if Aari pulls it in than if I do, because I’m a better counter balance to Aari plus kelp than she and Riini are to me plus kelp.

And because it’s me that gets all wet not you, she says, and sticks her tongue out at me. Which reminds Riini about sticking tongues out. Oh well.

I get wet cutting it in the first place, but it’s true I don’t get as wet doing that as Aari does pulling it aboard.

At least kelp pays well, which is more than can be said for line fishing. It’s nice to have a bit of fresh fish ourselves every now and then, but you can’t catch enough in any reasonable length of time to be worth catching it to sell. Not from a little boat like this. Unless I’m doing something terribly wrong.

9 August 670 / 762

We took Senghori round to the boatyard today, after I’d finished work. We’ve just walked back across town, and now we’re sitting on the hill behind the house watching the sunset. Riini has fallen asleep with her head on her Maama’s lap. It feels funny not to have Senghori there behind the house. We’ll go and pick her up in a couple of days when the paint’s thoroughly hardened.

We’re getting a lantern bracket fitted to the masthead so we can anchor offshore and sleep on board with a wrist line to wake me if I catch anything. Only if the weather looks set fair! Riini is very excited about sleeping on board.

14 August

I’ve got another season’s work in the port office, and it may become permanent. It’s a comfortable position. Not very well paid, but enough.

We catch two or three good size fish every night we’re out in Senghori, but it breaks my sleep randomly and I end up too tired, so we’re only going to do it the nights before my days off in future. And only when the weather looks okay, so not all that often. But it gives us a good meal, and Behmi gets a couple of fish to cook, which gives us a few coins.

We don’t really need the odd few coins that much, says Aari. But it seems a waste of Senghori not to use her.

Just enjoy her.

Okay. No more night fishing.

22 August

Imbaal called to ask whether I could use a few hours work a week helping in the railway offices. Not being in charge, he laughed, helping with the accounts. One of the accountants has decided to go back to Barioha where his family are, now that there’s more work there because of the increased traffic between Meyroha and Barioha.

Aari wanted to know if she could do it, since I’ve got a full-time job in the port office. Imbaal didn’t know Aari could read and write and do arithmetic, and was a little unsure about having a lady working in the office. He thought about it for a while, then decided it would be okay, since Aari and I are both well known and respected by the staff there.

Riini says she’ll be perfectly fine staying with Priila for four hours two days a week. We’ll see. I’m not sure she really understands exactly what it means.

Yes I do! She says. Riini has sharp ears. I can’t translate the diary for Aari without her hearing, it seems. No, you can’t, Riini says – even though I’m practically whispering in Aari’s ear.

Aari laughs, and so does Riini.

STOP IT!

29 October 670 / 762

Riini is four years old today.

I have taken a day’s leave, and Aari isn’t working either. We’re going sailing for Riini’s birthday, because it’s something she really loves, and it’s a lovely day with sunshine and a good wind.

30 October

What a lovely day that was. Riini is asking when we can go sailing again, and can we go further, and sleep in Senghori, and then go further, and further.

And when will we come back? Aari asks.

I don’t know, says Riini. When we run out of money?

I wonder where she gets that sort of thinking from. At four years old.

Shhh! says Riini. You’re not supposed to ask that kind of question.

Blimey. What have we raised, Aari?

Good question, says Riini.

4 January 671 / 762

There’s been very little snow so far and it’s gone very quickly. But the wind has been fierce and the sea has been very rough.

We’ve taken the mast down in Senghori. Priila’s son Hemrom helped us to turn her upside-down. The wind had taken her cover off, and she was filling with water – at least half of it salt spray. She looks sad lying upside-down on the hillside, but what can we do?

Half the workers on the breakwater have been laid off because the weather’s too bad for some of the work, so my hours have been reduced. I’m now working seven hours a day four days a week.

Behmi has no work for Aari at this time of year, but she is now working four hours a day three days a week in the railway office.

The bridge is nearing completion. All the stonework is finished, and the latticework connects all the way across the river – fortunately. With this wind there’d be a serious risk of it all collapsing if it wasn’t connected. The latticework isn’t complete and it couldn’t carry a train, but at least there are no gaps now. Despite the wind, they’re still working on it, but the work is slow because they’re having to take extra precautions to minimize the risks to both the bridge and the workers.

Riini wants to know when we’ll be able to sail again. She says there’s a good wind, isn’t there? Aari says it’s too good, which is one way to describe it.

16 May 671 / 763

The bridge is complete¹, and the first two trains arrived this afternoon – one from Meyroha, and one from Briggi. Aari has been very busy in the railway office, working seven hours a day five days a week. The coach to Meyroha is full for weeks ahead, and there’s a waiting list. Lots of people are enquiring about tickets for Belgaam and Briggi as well.

And parcels! Everyone seems to want to send a parcel to someone, and they think the trains stop at every little village. Well they don’t.

Aari wants to know why I’ve bothered with this, when I’ve written nothing for ages. It’s not personal to us, she says. It seems to be a significant event though, and anyway – it is personal. It’s why you’re so busy in the office.

Behmi is missing Aari’s help. She’s taken on another young woman, but Aari is much more capable. Which is why she’s in demand in the railway office as well.

My work at the port office is more patchy, so I still sometimes collect seaweed and shellfish for Behmi, and occasionally go fishing. But on the rare occasions Aari and I are both free on a nice day, we take Senghori out for pleasure, not to cut kelp. Much as we’d like to help Behmi, we don’t need the money, we don’t like getting soaked, and it’s hard work. Riini loves just sailing – and to be honest, so do we.

A couple of weeks ago – I should have written this at the time, but didn’t – we sailed along the coast to Griishi. Aari and I were thinking about how we’d stopped the night there on the way from Oushi, but of course Riini didn’t remember it at all.

The old man on the quay remembered us well enough, remarked how Riini has grown, and admired Senghori. A real nice little boat, he said, tiny, but lovely. How’s she handle?

I told him she handles well. She’s beamy, so she’s not fast and can’t sail very close to the wind, but she’s nice and stable and good for fishing from.

He nodded.

Good for gentleman’s fishing with a rod, he said. You wouldn’t want to put out much of a net from her. And you’ve chosen a good day to come over here, beating upwind so you can run home, you’re a wise man.

That’s as much Aari as me.

We didn’t walk up the hill to the inn where we’d stayed the night nearly three years ago. We had lunch in the other inn, on the quayside, and it was good food and plenty of it. And cheaper.

Riini made friends with the landlord and wants to know when we’re going there again. Next time there’s an easterly wind on a fine day and your Maama and I are both free, little one. And sadly that’s not often.

A northerly or a southerly would be okay, says Riini, then you could reach both ways. Maama, this girl is four.

Of course I am. Doesn’t mean I’m stupid. You’ve just written what I said, haven’t you, Baaba?

Yes, and your logic is okay. What you’re not allowing for is that the wind often changes. If it’s a northerly or a southerly in the morning, it might be a westerly by late afternoon.

It might be a westerly in the late afternoon even if it’s an easterly in the morning, Baaba. Yes, possible, but not so likely.

Riini needs a cuddle now.

Aari says I didn’t even write anything for our birthday. And the fact is it went by without either of us noticing. But I’m thirty-seven now and Aari’s twenty-six. Roughly.

And I’m four, Riini says, and sticks her tongue out.

10 July 671 / 763

The breakwaters are finished and the port office is quite quiet, with just normal shipping coming and going. I’m working there just one four-hour day a week. I think that’s just to keep me around in case they need me again.

The railway just gets busier and busier. There are two coaches on the Briggi trains and four on the Meyroha ones, and they’re doubling the track all the way from Meyroha to Barioha to handle more trains on that part of the line. Aari is full-time in the railway office, and I’m working there too now, seven hours a day three days a week.

Everyone in the railway office seems to treat me as some kind of elder statesman. Now I’m not the boss I seem to be able to negotiate with the committee on behalf of the employees in a way I never could before.

On my days off I’ve started teaching the local children near our house – reading, writing and arithmetic. I’m not charging any fees, but Priila looks after Riini when Aari and I are both working, and the other parents keep giving us fish and sometimes vegetables.

Riini and I still go for walks along the headland at low tide and collect shellfish and seaweed – often just ekraahi and wrack, because we mistime the tides a bit, but it’s still good food and Behmi appreciates it. But she says she misses the old days when we kept her supplied with mussels and kelp.

28 July

Aari and I both had the day off yesterday. There was no wind, so we couldn’t go sailing. We took Riini for a walk onto the top of the headland. We don’t often go up there, we usually go out to the point and collect seaweed and shellfish for Behmi, but we thought we’d show Riini the view of the town, and see if we could see a train on the bridge, or any ships or fishing boats.

At the very top there are good rocks to sit on if the weather’s warm and dry, and we were just sitting there. A lady came and sat near us and was looking at the view just like we were.

We got chatting, as one does. Then she said, your little girl reminds me of my niece. She was about her age, and your daughter is the spitting image of her. And she started crying.

Aari got up and went and put her arm around her shoulder and asked, what’s the matter?

Just remembering my niece, and my sister, that’s all.

I saw Aari going pale. What happened to them, I asked.

My niece went fishing with my brother-in-law and his friend, and they never came back. Lost at sea. My sister died of a broken heart.

Aari was rigid. I could see she didn’t know what to say. Riini was looking at them both with wide eyes. It took me a few moments to know how to begin.

You’re originally from Mezham?

Yes...how do you know?

The whole story came tumbling out.

No one in Mezham knew your married name, nor your address, so we thought we’d never find you. We’ve been living in Laanoha for three years.

Roemi is a widow. Her husband died in an accident doing building work at the Castle, and she now lives on a meagre pension from the Castle. She’s about the same age as me, maybe a year or two older, she doesn’t know her age exactly. She has a room in a tenement house in the middle of town, close to the railway line.

29 October 671 / 763

And now Riini is five. How time flies!

She took the tiller on Senghori for a little while this morning. We’ve been promising her for a while that she could when she was five, and the wind wasn’t too strong today. But she couldn’t hold the mainsheet on her own, which made her a bit sad.

When will I be strong enough, Baaba?

I don’t know the answer to that question.

30 October

Roemi came round yesterday evening for Riini’s birthday. Nobody does birthdays here, and Priila and her family wondered what was going on – again – and again we had a sing-song late into the night, and I played the mizma and Aari played her new fihihi.

Roemi stayed the night. She slept upstairs with Aari and Riini, so I slept on the floor downstairs. I had to be up at the usual time to go to work.

6 November 671 / 763

I arrived home from work today to find Riini giving the other children an arithmetic lesson. I heard as I came down the street, and stopped to listen for a while before they noticed me. She really was giving them exercises, just like the ones I give them. And they, all years older than her, were lapping it up.

She’s still out there as I write this, still teaching. I shall translate this to Aari out of Riini’s earshot if I can.

{At this point there are several lines in what I think must be Manafai. Looks like Birgom’s handwriting, not Aari’s. Probably a note for Aari to read silently, I guess.}

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