The Linnet Bird: A Novel

by Linda Holeman

  I can finally wear the pendant with pride, and I wear no other jewelry but this.

  When the time is right I will take David to visit his grandmother’s grave. He will never know of the other grave I visited. The pink-streaked stone is barely visible, sunken into the soft grass, and yet the holly bush still stands, its spiny foliage glossy.

  He listens to my stories about Liverpool with interest. He has learned to write and sends simple letters to Malti. Sometimes he draws pictures of his life in England and encloses those as well. He says he will go back to visit her someday. Malti lives with Trupti and her nieces and nephews in Delhi. They no longer have to work for others, and want for nothing.

  David thrives, a healthy, strong-limbed, dark-eyed child, a child of seven who plays with his friends and complains about his daily school lessons. In this way he is an ordinary boy. But he has the love of horses in his blood. Shaker and I discovered this when I decided it was time he had his own horse. We took him to a stable, and he immediately chose a tall gleaming roan.

  I thought the horse too big for him, but he was adamant. And when he was in the saddle I saw his father in him so clearly, in the way he held the short crop but was loath to use it, in his small, capable hands as they smoothed the horse’s mane, as he leaned forward and instinctively whispered into the horse’s ear. On that first mount, he pressed his knees into the roan’s sides and was off across the field, leaving me with my mouth open in surprise and worry, and yet also with such an overpowering joy that I could not speak.

  Shaker immediately took chase on a quick dappled mare, and within minutes they rode back to me, the look of pleasure on David’s face unmistakable, while Shaker simply smiled with the proud, indulgent smile of a father.

  He and Celina have not had the fortune to have children, and they treat David with the love and compassion they would have given freely to their own. Shaker and Celina are our family; I am like a beloved sister to them, while David is the cosseted child of us all.

  And so, unlike me, who too early lost a mother, my son blossoms in the love of two women. David has his memories of the man he believes to be his father, although they are thin and rapidly fading, and soon will be reduced to the small likeness painted on a cameo. Shaker, who stands in for his father, is kind and loving. And the one who truly fathered him will remain—at least until David is no longer an impressionable child—unknown.

  When he is fully grown, will I give him the missive I wrote at the end of that terrible time in Calcutta, in the days following Somers’s death? Who can say? At times I take out the shakily written, ink-blotched pages and read them, seeing myself—who I was then—as if through someone else’s eyes. I keep it safe, for I believe it may be important for David one day. I have come to realize that there are no certainties in this life, no promises—to others, or to oneself—that can always be kept.

  There are days when the longing for the poppy is so strong I endure physical pain. I know now that it is most likely I will never lose the longing, but I also know that there is nothing that can ever drive me to once more be its slave. At odd times, unexpected times, perhaps when I am waking, I feel a sense of the old ebb and flow of the sweet smoke in my head. At these times I am confused momentarily, saddened, when I think over my life and see it as a disaster, a litany of errors small and huge, of lies and deception. But then I hear the sound of my son murmuring to his pup from the other room, and I know that the long journey I took has brought me to this place, with David, in the way it was meant to be. I can again bear to look at my own reflection: although my eyes are deeper, the skin around them finely lined, they are clear now. I look like a mother, an ordinary woman.

  Celina has suggested that perhaps I shall soon find someone—an ordinary man—to share my life. Perhaps. I have learned that I am capable of passion, of giving and accepting love. I am twenty-eight. There is time.

  For now I have my dream—the dream that has nothing to do with the poppy. This real dream, the one I can bring at will, is the memory of the copper sun, of the Kashmir valley, its carpet of flowers. Of passion and of completeness. This dream has replaced the nightmare. I am free of all that kept me prisoner for so long. And who could wish for more than this?

  MY BOOK ON the medicinal plants of India, the book I began compiling when I first arrived back in England, using the case of notes I had collected over my years in India, is complete. It shall be published within a few months by Carruthers of London. Although I am known as Linny Ingram here, I put the name Linnet Gow on the book. The publisher strongly suggested that I use as the author name “A Lady”—which they prefer, or secondly, Mrs. Somers Ingram. Of course I think of myself as neither.

  I wrote back that I would like it published under the name I originally indicated—Linnet Gow. They politely resisted, suggesting L. Gow.

  I replied in my finest hand, stating that I insist on my choice; with all respect, I do insist.

  They will come around to my bidding, of course, for I have never been one to back down. And no matter what names have been appointed, I will forever continue to think of myself as Linny Gow, the name my mother gave me, and the only name of which I am proud.

  Acknowledgments

  I AM GREATLY INDEBTED to my agent, Sarah Heller, for all her help with this project. I would like to thank Harriet Evans, for her instinct and her insight and her questions, and for pushing me to go further and dig deeper. She truly was instrumental in helping me make this book as close as possible to the one I envisioned. Heartfelt thanks to Catherine Cobain and Hazel Orme, and, of course, I owe much gratitude to Rachel Kahan. I must also thank Shannon Kernaghan, Donna Freeman, Irene Williams, Anita Jewell, and Kathy Lowinger, who read the manuscript in its original form and encouraged me. Last, I thank my children, Zalie, Brenna, and Kitt, for their understanding and constant support. No matter how difficult the journey, they are always willing companions.

  About the Author

  LINDA HOLEMAN is the author of two collections of short stories, Flying to Yellow and Devil’s Darning Needle, as well as several books for young adults, including Search for the Moon King’s Daughter and Mercy’s Birds. She lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

  a novel

  LINDA HOLEMAN

  A Reader’s Guide

  About the Book

  Not since The Far Pavilions has an historical novel captured the imagination of its readers on such a showstopping scale. The Linnet Bird is the tale of Linny Gow: orphan, widow, mother, adventurer. Shackled by a reprehensible past, yet determined to rediscover her own dignity in the anonymity of a foreign nation, Linny braves a deadly ocean voyage—only to discover that her dark history cannot be outrun.

  Gritty, provocative, and lushly imagined, Linny’s heartrending story carries her from the gruesome poverty of working-class Liverpool in the thick of the Industrial Revolution to the multi-hued pageantry of India under British rule. As she quests for the elusive means to healing and freedom, Linny must lie, cheat, beg, fight—even murder—in order to survive. Yet it is a chance encounter with a dangerous stranger that unclenches Linny’s pockmarked heart and fuels her ultimate transformation.

  This unforgettable saga explores the back-alley depravity of child prostitution and the sociopolitical hypocrisy of colonial India with equal panache—while sensitively evoking the inner thought processes of its unforgettable heroine. The following guide is designed to help direct your group’s discussion of Linda Holeman’s masterpiece, The Linnet Bird.

  Questions for Discussion

  1. When Ram coerces Linny into working with the excuse, “Many a lass does help out her family when they’ve fallen on hard times,” Linny reflects that her bloodline elevates her above this: “Of course I knew a number of the older girls . . . who worked a few hours now and then . . . when money was short at home. But I had always known I was different. I wasn’t like them . . . It was in my blood, this difference” . Where does Linny get this notion of inherited superiority? What later event marks her first dou
bt about the legitimacy of her noble blood?

  2. After a fruitless visit from the Ladies of Righteous Conduct, Linny reflects “I turned thirteen and knew I had grown hard. And I knew my mother would not be pleased—not because I was a whore, for that was not my fault—but because of my evil ways and my even more evil thoughts”. What is this evil she is talking about? What attempt does she make to rectify her ways?

  3. What subversive act offers Linny a sense of “small potency” while she is subject to Ram’s pimping? Why doesn’t she try to hoard money instead?

  4. Linny’s position at the library is a dream come true: a first opportunity for legitimate employment and access to unlimited books. Why is there no description of her momentous first day at work?

  5. Linny is disgusted with the pretensions and prejudices of the British in India, frustrated by the limitations placed on her exploration of her surroundings, uninterested in the rampant matchmaking culture, and unable to find compatible women with whom to make friends. Why, then, does she insist that “Faced with the thought of leaving India, of returning to Liverpool, I knew then that I would do whatever I had to. Marry someone. Anyone”?

  6. Why does Shaker refer to Linny as “his sign”? What is her reaction to this label?

  7. Linny is perceptive enough to notice that opium has reduced Meg from an ambitious, flamboyant character to a shadow of her former self, “worn and listless as all the other women . . . ”. She is also aware that laudanum, Meg’s favorite antidote to all her child’s complaints, is potentially fatal. Why does she ignore her misgivings and indulge in opium at Meg’s urging? Is this a suicidal tendency, or mere stupidity?

  8. After escaping prostitution, Linny is shocked when she sees her own reflection: “I didn’t know the hollow-eyed woman in the mirror”. Ten years later, at the peak of her opium addiction, she is again unable to recognize her reflection: “I looked at myself in the mirror again . . . I had lost sight of the woman who called herself Linny Gow”. At the end of the novel, Linny claims, “I can again bear to look at my own reflection . . . I look like a mother, an ordinary woman”. Discuss the use of mirrors and reflections elsewhere in the novel. Does Linny succeed in finding her true self, and, if so, where does she find this image reflected?

  9. Linny makes one attempt at escaping the tedium of India. As she stands at the dock with her luggage, poised to leave, a sadhu, or holy man, speaks unintelligibly to her. Linny claims, “I understood the portent of the sadhu” and reverses her decision. Why does she choose to interpret the event this way?

  10. Linny finds herself egging on Somers’s violence: “for some inexplicable reason I sometimes found myself goading him purposely . . . I wanted to see how far I could push him before he would react . . . I think now . . . that it was a way of drawing Somers’s attention—even if the attention was filled with nothing more than trepidation and fear of physical pain. I wanted to reach him in some way, in the confusing push and pull of our relationship” . In what ways is Linny’s tale a timeless look at childhood and/or marital abuse and their psychological effects on a woman? What stereotypical behaviors does she fall into? What lesson does her story provide for healing and renewal?

  11. Frances Gow, Linny’s “soft and dreamy” dead mother, plays a recurring role in Linny’s imagination. Frances’s voice soothes Linny through her first rape at the age of eleven. Her face appears, albeit drowned, as Linny struggles against chloral poisoning during her ordeal on Rodney Street. Where else does she appear? What traits does Linny assign to Frances, and what strengths does she imagine she gleans from her upbringing at her mother’s hands?

  12. What “strange and troubling sensation of loss” does Linny experience when she leaves her life of prostitution behind?

  Copyright © 2004 by Linda Holeman

  Reader’s Guide copyright © 2005 by Crown Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Crown Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  www.crownpublishing.com

  Originally published in Great Britain by Headline, London, in 2004.

  CROWN is a trademark and the Crown colophon is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Holeman, Linda, 1949–

  The linnet bird : a novel / Linda Holeman.

  1. India—History—British occupation, 1765–1947—Fiction. 2. British—

  India—Fiction. 3. Women—India—Fiction. 4. Ex-prostitutes—Fiction.

  5. Married women—Fiction. I. Title.

  PR9199.3.H5485L56 2005

  813'.54—dc22 2004025392

  eISBN 0-307-23848-2

  v1.0