A Painter in Penang: A Gripping Story of the Malayan Emergency

by Clare Flynn

  Evie was starting to weaken.

  He pressed home his advantage. ‘And, of course, Mary would be thrilled to have Jazz staying for a while. Wasn’t she her teacher?’

  Evie nodded.

  ‘And Mary would do anything for you, my love. It’s a perfect solution.’

  Evie leaned forward and kissed her husband. ‘You are a clever old thing, aren’t you, Arthur Leighton?’

  He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again. ‘Right. That’s settled then.’ Smiling, he added, ‘Now, how about we have an early night?’

  4

  Three weeks later, Evie and Jasmine boarded a ship from Mombasa to Colombo in Ceylon, where, after a short layover, they were to transfer to another vessel coming from Bombay and finish the passage to Penang.

  Over breakfast on the first morning, Jasmine asked Evie how many times she’d been to sea before.

  Evie did a quick mental calculation. ‘Nine, I think.’

  ‘Not much more than me then.’

  ‘That’s because you were with me most of the time. Not the first time though. When I came out to Penang before the war in ’39 to marry your father.’

  Jasmine tilted her head to one side. ‘Did you even know Daddy before you came to George Town? I don’t ever remember hearing about you.’

  Evie felt herself blushing. ‘We’d met only once, so no, I barely knew him.’

  ‘That was either brave or bonkers then.’ Jasmine spread marmalade thickly on her toast. ‘I mean, … what made you do it? Marry Daddy when you barely knew him?’

  Evie gave a tight-lipped smile. What had caused Jasmine’s sudden interest in her past life?

  Jasmine winced. ‘Sorry, Mummy. I know it’s none of my business but I’ve always wondered and never liked to ask you before.’

  Evie drew in a breath. ‘I suppose I wanted something to happen in my life. I was stuck in a bit of a rut. Living in a small English village in a job I didn’t like and with no prospects.’ She smiled again, still blushing. ‘And I’d met your father and remembered how handsome he was. When he wrote to ask me if I’d marry him I came to the conclusion I’d nothing to lose and everything to gain.’

  ‘That’s incredibly brave then.’ Jasmine looked at her with wide eyes.

  ‘No. Not really brave. You were right to suggest it was bonkers, as you put it. I doubt I’d have the guts to do it now. I’m so pleased I did as otherwise I’d never have had you and Hugh. Besides, you’re equally brave, heading off on this adventure on your own.’

  ‘Not really. I’m going somewhere I know. Penang’s the only place that’s ever felt like home to me. And I know Miss Helston – I mean Mrs Hyde-Underwood. It’s you who’ll be having to travel back on your own.’ Jasmine’s lip trembled. ‘I want you to know how grateful I am, Mummy, that you’re doing all this for me. I’d have felt overwhelmed if I’d been alone on this ship. When you came out before the war to marry Daddy, you were entirely alone.’

  ‘I was nearly ten years older than you. And anyway, I wasn’t entirely alone. I travelled with Arthur and Veronica.’

  Jasmine pulled a face. ‘Ghastly Veronica. She was always horrid to me when I was small. I heard her telling you and Daddy once that you should pack me off to boarding school “as it must be such a bore having a kid in the house”.’ Jasmine mimicked the drawl of Arthur’s first wife. ‘And I know she used to call me a brat.’

  ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, darling.’

  Jasmine rolled her eyes, shrugged, then turned her attention back to her breakfast.

  * * *

  Evie stood at the starboard side of the promenade deck, gazing out at the expanse of ocean. The conversation with Jasmine over breakfast had caused her mind to return to that fateful first passage to Penang from England, with Arthur and Veronica. It had been a journey into the unknown. She had been within a hair’s breadth of declining Douglas Barrington’s marriage proposal and now was so grateful she had not. Otherwise she might still be in the claustrophobic Hampshire village at the beck and call of her employer, Mrs Shipley-Thomas, instead of standing here on the deck of a ship crossing the Indian Ocean, with her daughter close by.

  Glancing behind her to where Jasmine was sitting on a deck lounger, under a parasol, immersed in her sketch book, Evie acknowledged that her daughter, at sixteen, was no longer a child. Where had the time gone? That first voyage to Penang seemed simultaneously a lifetime ago and like yesterday.

  Evie leaned against the metal guard rail and turned her attention to the flying fish leaping out of the water. They rose into the air, gliding gracefully above the surface of the sea, before skimming and diving below it again.

  The sun was hot on the back of her neck, so Evie adjusted the tilt of her straw hat and moved into the shade, to sit on a deck chair. Beside her, Jasmine looked up and smiled. Her sketchbook was open on her lap and Evie realised she had been drawing her as she was watching the fish. She leaned in to look closer.

  ‘That’s awfully good, darling.’

  ‘It’s not finished yet.’

  ‘Do you want me to go back there?’ Evie jerked her head towards the rails that encircled the deck.

  ‘No need. The drawing’s done, but I’m going to put a wash on it. When it’s finished you can have it. Give it to Arthur as a present from me.’ Jasmine’s eyes were bright, all the stress of the past weeks gone.

  ‘You need to do a self-portrait – so we’ll have something to remind us of you every day.’

  Jasmine gave her a playful smile. ‘You think you’ll forget what I look like?’

  Evie put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘Never in a million years. But we’re all going to miss having you around.’

  The girl had bloomed as soon as Evie and Arthur had mooted the idea of her going to stay with Mary Hyde-Underwood. The old happy Jasmine had emerged from under the dark cloud that had enveloped her. Colour returned to her skin. Her eyes shone and she had been bubbling over with barely contained excitement as the day of their departure had come closer. Now, on the ship, she was a picture of peace and serenity, attentive to her mother, polite and engaging to the passengers on their table at dinner, and spending her afternoons reading – or more often – painting and sketching. How could Evie begrudge her the idea of leaving Kenya when the prospect of being in Penang had so evidently made her happy again?

  ‘Remember, you must make sure you don’t outstay your welcome. Mary and Reggie are incredibly kind in agreeing to let you stay, but it’s only until you’ve sat the school certificate. After that, we need you to come home to us so we can talk about the future. Art school maybe? Who knows how you’ll feel by then? And besides, Hugh, Arthur and I are going to be lost without you.’ She bit her lip. ‘By then you may be sick to death anyway of being in Malaya. And remember – any time you want to come home all you need to do is tell me.’

  ‘Never!’ Jasmine’s eyes were fierce. ‘I can promise you that, Mummy. I will never be sick of being there.’

  Evie felt a lump in her throat and her mouth trembled. Was she losing her daughter forever? While Jasmine was not her biological child, she couldn’t imagine loving her more if she were.

  Jasmine put the sketchpad down and wrapped her arms around Evie. ‘I promise once I’ve done the exams, I will come back to Nairobi to talk about what happens next.’

  But the hollow space in Evie’s stomach remained. Tears threatened and she didn’t want Jasmine to see them, so she jumped up. ‘I’m going to go back to the cabin to lie down for a while. I think I’ve caught too much sun.’ As she hurried back along the deck, Evie knew in her heart this voyage marked a permanent end.

  * * *

  Their layover in Ceylon was for four days and, since this trip was to be the start of a long separation, Evie decided to treat them to a stay at the Galle Face Hotel.

  When they disembarked from the ship, Jasmine’s face lit up in a broad smile. ‘It’s so like Penang and Singapore!’ she cried. ‘It smells the
same! It feels the same.’

  As the taxi conveyed them from the port to the hotel, they passed white, colonnaded, colonial-style buildings and drove along tree-lined avenues, thronged with rickshaws and bicycles, as well as ox carts carrying wooden chests full of tea to the docks. The city of Colombo was built along the coast and waves crashed against the shore as the sun blazed down, intensifying the whiteness of the buildings and the vibrant splashes of colour of the saris worn by passing women.

  The hotel was a grand Victorian building, a colonial palace looking out over the sea and over Galle Face Green, an open park area. With its terracotta-tiled roof, white stucco and broad colonnaded terrace, it reminded Evie of the Eastern & Oriental in Penang. Unlike the E&O, which had been used by the Japanese military during the occupation, the Galle Face had come through the war relatively unscathed, the island of Ceylon remaining under British control.

  To Jasmine’s delight, they were shown to a room with an ocean view and she flung her arms around Evie. ‘Thank you, Mummy. This is such a treat.’

  ‘Well it could be months before we see each other again.’ She stroked her daughter’s long hair, praying that it would be months and not as she feared, years. ‘I want us to have some special time together.’

  Jasmine plonked herself down on the end of the bed. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a disappointment to you.’

  Evie sat beside her and drew her daughter close to her. ‘A disappointment? Never! Don’t ever think that, my darling.’

  ‘But getting expelled. Causing so much trouble. Hating being in Africa.’

  ‘All I want is for you to be happy, Jasmine.’ She held her gently above the elbows and looked into her eyes. ‘Seeing you so happy now shows me how miserable you’ve been in Nairobi. I should have paid more attention. I was so wrapped up in getting us all settled in, I didn’t notice that you were struggling so much. I was more worried about Hugh as he’s so small – but I should have known little boys adapt to anything as long as they’ve plenty to do.’

  ‘I simply didn’t fit in.’

  ‘I know. I do understand. But it’s all behind you now. You’ll have a wonderful experience in Penang. And then afterwards, we’ll see. You may feel completely differently by then. You may want to go to teacher training college or university. Who knows? Let’s take each day as it comes.’

  Evie felt a sudden rush of sadness. She was losing something precious – the remains of her daughter’s childhood and the last stages of Jasmine’s transition to womanhood. That would be for Mary to witness. Evie bit her lip. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I’m going to miss you so much.’

  ‘Me too. I’ll miss Hugh and Arthur too – but mostly you. And I promise I’ll write.’

  Evie kissed the top of her head, breathing in the fresh scent of her daughter’s recently washed hair. ‘You’d better!’ she said.

  * * *

  The next few days passed rapidly. They took rickshaw rides around the city, did a little shopping – and sat on the terrace of the hotel drinking tea as the waves lapped the shore in front of them. Evie read while Jasmine sketched or painted, and they took long early morning walks along the beach, fascinated by the fishermen in their wooden oruwa catamarans. Jasmine relished painting these long narrow boats with their outriggers attached with coir ropes to the main hull.

  They sat for hours watching the toddy tappers: barefoot, loin-clothed men who shinned up the trunks of tall palm trees, a bag of tools strapped to their waists, to collect the sap of the coconut palm for fermenting into a spirit known as arrack. At the invitation of a smiling toothless tapper, they both tasted the freshly collected sap. Sweet and slightly fizzy, it was refreshing and tasty.

  All too soon for Evie it was their last evening in Colombo. Seeing the impatient excitement in Jasmine’s eyes that they would soon be in Malaya, Evie vowed to be happy for her daughter. Most of the British in Penang before the war had sent their children away to boarding schools, as did the majority of Arthur’s administrative colleagues in Nairobi. She needed to think of this separation in the same way. As a small child, Jasmine herself had been a boarder until Evie married Doug and convinced him she should be at home with them. Perhaps that early separation and the death of her mother had caused the girl to develop an independent streak?

  During dinner, Kuttan, their young Indian waiter, regaled them with stories of Colombo during the war, when the city was awash with allied service personnel, intelligence officers and wartime administrators. He recounted with relish how he had witnessed a Japanese aircraft crashing in front of the hotel. As they were about to leave the table, he said, ‘Very sorry you are leaving us tomorrow, ladies. I hope you will return to The Galle Face so I might have the privilege of serving you again.’

  The smiling waiter indicated a table across the room where a middle-aged couple and a younger man, were dining. ‘One of those gentlemen is also going to Penang tomorrow. You must be on the same ship.’

  Evie looked across the dining room, curious, but turned away again when the woman glanced up and saw her watching them.

  Rather than go straight up to bed, Evie suggested they sit out on the terrace for a while. She ordered a brandy and Jasmine a mango juice. It was a beautiful evening, the sky cloudless, inky-black and star-studded. A soft cooling breeze wafted in from the ocean. A perfect end to a magical few days.

  ‘Do you mind awfully if I butt in for a moment? Only, Kuttan, our charming waiter, mentioned you’re heading to Penang. Are you joining the Rosebery tomorrow?’

  Evie looked up in surprise. ‘Oh, yes we are,’ she answered. But the man wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Jasmine.

  ‘I say, would you mind awfully if I joined you both for a nightcap?’ he asked. ‘Only it’s such a beautiful evening and the Parentals have already turned in.’ The question was intended for Evie but his eyes hadn’t left Jasmine, who appeared to be studiously ignoring him by staring out to sea.

  Glancing quickly at her daughter, Evie told him that by all means he was welcome to join them although they would soon be going to bed.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We have an early start tomorrow, don’t we?’ He asked for a whisky and soda from the barman and insisted on ordering another brandy for Evie. Jasmine refused a second fruit juice.

  As the drinks were being served, Evie studied the young man. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with a shock of thick light brown hair and an engaging smile. He was tanned by the sun and had a healthy outdoor look about him, despite his formal dinner suit. To Evie’s surprise, Jasmine looked bored or possibly irritated by his intrusion.

  Once the drinks were served, he said, ‘Do forgive me. You must think me awfully rude. I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Howard Baxter.’ He stretched out a hand to shake Evie’s as she introduced herself and Jasmine.

  ‘What a beautiful name. It’s perfect for you,’ he said to Jasmine, who blushed and mumbled something before turning away to gaze at the sea again.

  Embarrassed by Jasmine’s behaviour, Evie asked the young man, ‘Do you and your parents intend to stay long in Malaya?’

  ‘Oh gosh! The Parentals aren’t coming.’ His voice telegraphed his feelings. ‘They live up in the hills here in Ceylon, at Nuwara-Eliya. Pa’s a tea planter. They’re only in Colombo to wave me off – or as it’s turned out – to stage a last-ditch attempt to get me to stay on here.’

  There was an almost undetectable flicker of interest from Jasmine, before she turned her eyes back to watch the crashing waves. But Evie knew her daughter was listening.

  ‘The old boy wants me to work here in the tea business. Thinks I’m mad to be going into rubber. But I want to make my own way, not always be in his shadow. And Ma’s a sweetheart but she suffocates me. Just between us, I can’t wait to have the Indian Ocean separating us.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Sorry, I’m blurting again. I always end up telling people too much too soon. How about you?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘I hope you don’t min
d me saying this, but you don’t look very alike.’ He smiled at Evie. The breadth and warmth of his smile cancelled out his tactlessness and disarmed her.

  Jasmine spoke for the first time. ‘That’s because Mrs Leighton is my step-mother. Not that it’s any of your business.’

  Evie gasped, mortified. Before she could respond, Jasmine got to her feet. ‘I’m going to bed, Mummy. Goodnight.’ She bent down and dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek and moved rapidly back inside the hotel.

  ‘Me and my big mouth. I’m sorry, Mrs Leighton.’

  Evie turned to the young man. ‘I think my daughter’s feeling rather tired, Mr Baxter. My apologies for her abruptness. It’s completely out of character.’

  Howard Baxter looked relieved. ‘I haven’t offended you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Mum’s always telling me I have no tact. I open my mouth and put my foot in it.’ He smiled at Evie. ‘As for Jasmine, I like a bit of spirit. I look forward to getting to know her on the way to Penang.’ He looked towards the doorway as though hoping Jasmine might return. ‘Have you been to Penang before?’

  ‘We used to live there. Jasmine was born on the island and is desperately keen to go back. We’re in Nairobi now and an opportunity arose for her to spend some time in Penang, staying with friends. I decided to make the trip with her but I’ll be returning to Kenya in a couple of a weeks. It’s going to be hard saying goodbye.’

  ‘I can well believe that.’ His expression was wistful. ‘Will she be staying on the island or travelling elsewhere in the Straits?’

  There was something about Howard, maybe his smiling eyes, that made Evie feel relaxed in his company and comfortable telling him about their circumstances, despite the short acquaintance. ‘On the island. My late first husband, Jasmine’s father, was a rubber planter and had two estates, one on Penang and the other an hour from Butterworth. I sold them both after the war, Bella Vista on Penang to the manager and the other one to Guthrie’s.’