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

by Clare Flynn

  The waiter consulted the maitre d’ who shook his head.

  ‘Sorry, Miss Appleton.’

  Barbara rolled her eyes again. ‘I’m going to have to work on Daddy. How annoying.’

  ‘Surely it’s better to keep a clear head. Otherwise you might fall asleep over the paper.’

  Barbara feigned a yawn. ‘I’ll do that anyway. Unless there’s a question on the rude bits in Lady Chatterly I’m doomed, as I haven’t read any of the set texts. Can’t even remember what they are. I shall have to make it up. Use my imagination. More fun anyway. Now, tell me about you and why you’re sitting the exams externally. Did you get booted out of school too?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t fit in. I hated it.’ Jasmine gave her a brief explanation of her time in Africa and how she had wanted to come back to Penang.

  ‘Africa, eh? How thrilling. Will you be doing the season too? Oh, do say you will! It would be frightfully good to have a kindred spirit when I get to London.’

  Jasmine was tempted to ask how she had decided they must be kindred spirits. She herself felt they were anything but. ‘Actually, I’m hoping to go to Paris to study art.’

  ‘You really are exotic, aren’t you?’ Barbara clasped her hands together. ‘I can picture you, in a garret overlooking the rooftops, with the dome of Montmartre in the distance, lying naked on a bed while your artist lover paints your portrait. How wonderfully Bohemian!’

  Jasmine laughed. ‘I have no intention of being anyone’s lover, let alone posing naked. I’m going there to improve my own painting technique, not to be someone else’s model.’

  ‘You’re quite right. You are a modern woman.’ Barbara pointed a finger at her. ‘Even better. Your handsome lover will be lying naked on the sheets as you paint him. I can see it now. You’ve been making mad, passionate love and he’s lying among tangled sheets. Oh, if only I could paint. I’d be tempted to join you. It would be far more interesting than going to lots of balls. Paris is full of such fascinating people. Artists, jazz musicians, writers, poets.’ She smiled. ‘Once I’ve bagged my duke, I shall tell him to buy a house in the Bois de Boulogne and we can come and visit you and your handsome lover and pay lots of money for your paintings.’

  ‘You might not like them.’

  ‘Oh, darling, I’m sure I won’t. But what does that matter?’

  Jasmine looked up at the large wall clock. ‘We need to get back. It’s nearly one.’

  Barbara flung her napkin on the table and got to her feet. ‘You old bossy boots, you! Very well. Back into the jaws of the giant whale.’

  As they hurried back to the Town Hall, Barbara linked arms again. ‘I am so glad we met, Jasmine. I know we’re going to be such great friends. Mummy and Daddy have told me I’m not allowed out at night until the exams are finished, but once they are, I shall throw a fabulous party and you will be my guest of honour.’

  24

  Four days later, after the final exam finished, Barbara Appleton took Jasmine’s arm as they left the Town Hall and steered her along the street towards the padang and the waterfront.

  ‘My driver’s waiting for me,’ Jasmine protested, seeing Bintang leaning against the car, smoking.

  ‘Then tell him to wait. I told our syce that the exam didn’t finish until four, so we have an hour to walk by the sea and talk.’ Barbara Appleton was clearly unused to being gainsaid.

  Jasmine apologised to Bintang and told him the plan. He nodded and followed them at a distance.

  ‘Why is your man following us?’

  ‘Ever since the Emergency began, he’s been under instructions to stay close to me. The Hyde-Underwoods whom I’m staying with are extra protective because of my parents not being here.’

  Barbara rolled her eyes. ‘How tedious to have him trailing around everywhere with you.’

  ‘Not at all. I like him. He’s more of a friend really.’

  Barbara’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Good Lord! He’s a native. And a servant. How can he be a friend?’

  ‘I went to school with his sister. And I’m painting his portrait.’ As she spoke she wondered why she was trying to justify herself.

  ‘Gosh. It gets worse!’ Barbara gaped at her. ‘It’s not the done thing to be friends with natives. Really! I’m going to have to take you in hand.’ She looked over her shoulder to where Bintang was following them at a distance. ‘And it must be awful to be followed everywhere.’

  ‘He’s giving us privacy.’ Suddenly defiant she added, ‘And if you weren’t here he’d be walking with me. I like talking with him actually. He’s very interesting.’ Annoyed, she wondered why she was having to defend Bintang again. Howard had been the same. Not about her talking to a native but rather more about mistrusting Bintang. Why did they have to take against him? It made her all the more determined to like him. ‘I don’t want to discuss this anymore. I can choose who I like to be friends with. I don’t need help with that.’

  Barbara put her hands up in front of her, palms out. ‘All right. Message read and understood.’

  Attempting to smooth things over, Jasmine asked, ‘How did you get on with the paper? I thought the questions were hard. I did the one on The East India Company and the one about Thomas Cromwell’s statesmanship. What about you?’

  ‘I wrote a short paragraph on each of the three questions and then used the rest of the time to write to my best friend at school. But that old witch collected the letter up with the answer papers so it was a complete waste of time. Here, let’s sit under that tree in the shade and I’ll tell you what I’m planning for my party. Two weeks from tomorrow. I’ll be sending out the invitations next week.’

  They settled down on the sand, backs against the wall and Jasmine felt drowsy in the late afternoon sun. After all that concentration she could feel the threat of a headache coming on. At least she didn’t have to worry about finding something to say to Barbara, as her new friend needed no prompting and was happy to sustain a monologue that was akin to a stream of consciousness.

  ‘So you will come won’t you?’ Barbara paused for breath.

  ‘I won’t know anyone. Apart from you.’

  ‘That’s the whole point. I shall introduce you. I know everyone who’s worth knowing in Penang. In the whole of the Settlements, for that matter. And I love having a new person to introduce. Everyone is going to adore you, darling! We’ll have such fun. I knew at once I’d like you. I can always tell by looking at people. Particularly at what they wear. And that dress is so heavenly.’

  Jasmine was wearing the daisy-patterned dress Evie had bought her. ‘I got it in Colombo.’

  ‘So pretty. You have good taste. Few people do.’ She smoothed down the fabric of her own dress, a full-skirted confection in vibrant pink. ‘This came from Paris. One thing you can look forward to when you’re living there. I can tell you all the best places to shop. Not that you’ll be wearing clothes too often as I definitely see you as the talented mistress of the most handsome man in Paris. A musician I think. I am picturing you together in your love nest, only venturing out late at night to go dancing in darkened basement bars in the Quartier Latin. Gosh! I’m actually making myself envious of you. Of course you will have to read Lady Chat before you go, so you’ll know exactly what to expect.’

  Jasmine tilted her head on one side. ‘You have a very vivid imagination, Barbara. Maybe you should write books. I can assure you though, if I’m lucky enough to get into art school in Paris, I have no plans to do any of those things. And certainly not to be anyone’s mistress.’ She gave a little shudder. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Don’t you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘No – and I don’t want one.’

  ‘I don’t have one either. Well, not at the moment. But I certainly intend to have as many as possible before I settle down with my duke and push out the heir and the spare.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jasmine could see Bintang leaning against the sea wall about a hundred yards away. Beyond him was the white bulk of the former Runnyme
de Hotel, now surrounded with high barbed wire fencing and warning signs.

  Barbara broke off her monologue and nudged Jasmine in the ribs. ‘Smiles on. Pout those lips. Our boys are coming.’

  Approaching from the direction of the fort was a platoon of army recruits, parading along the sand, evidently returning to their barracks in the Runnymede. A sick feeling washed over Jasmine as she spotted Lieutenant Ellis standing close to the water’s edge awaiting their arrival.

  ‘I think I should go.’ Jasmine scrambled to her feet.

  Barbara reached up a hand and pulled her down beside her again. ‘What’s the hurry? Let’s have a look at the talent first. I know they’re only squaddies, but no harm in admiring the goods.’

  Jasmine jerked her arm away. ‘Let me go. I’m leaving.’ She spoke with force and this time Barbara got to her feet too.

  Bintang started to move towards them and as he did, Jasmine realised Ellis had seen him and was following. The soldiers were clearly new recruits, who looked fresh out of school, pale spotty faces not yet burnt by the Malayan sun, crisp uniforms unsullied by expeditions through the jungle.

  ‘National Service. All ugly conscripts.’ Barbara nonetheless smiled flirtatiously as the young men marched past.

  Jasmine barely looked at the soldiers. Her eyes were tracking Bintang and Ellis. Bintang, seeing that Jasmine and Barbara hadn’t actually moved off, was hesitating. He stepped back towards the wall as the soldiers approached, and he looked to see if Jasmine was leaving. He was clearly trying to both protect her and remain unobtrusive.

  Ellis barked out an order to the sergeant who was escorting the squaddies. Jasmine couldn’t make out what he had said as the wind carried his words out of earshot.

  Then everything happened quickly. The men broke ranks and encircled Bintang. Jasmine could no longer see him. Voices were raised and she could make out one of them as Bintang. Protesting.

  ‘What are they doing to him?’ She turned to Barbara in alarm.

  Barbara was frowning. ‘Looks like they’re about to arrest your driver.’

  ‘No!’ Jasmine began running up the beach, Barbara behind her.

  ‘I do nothing wrong. I am driver. Just waiting.’

  Two of the soldiers were restraining an angry and frightened Bintang, while another put his wrists in handcuffs.

  Jasmine pushed through the soldiers to where Ellis was standing, a look of contemptuous triumph on his face.

  ‘Let him go,’ she cried. ‘You know perfectly well he’s done nothing wrong. You know he’s my driver and is telling the truth.’ She turned to address the sergeant, but it was hopeless, as he was not in a position to countermand an officer. ‘Lieutenant Ellis is well aware who we are and knows perfectly well my driver was waiting for us. He has instructions to keep me in sight at all times. He’s just doing his job.’

  The sergeant glanced at Ellis, who barked, ‘Take his picture. Check it against the wanted list. If he’s on there lock him up. If he’s not he can go.’ He turned on his heels and headed back to the barracks, after giving Jasmine a look of disgust.

  The sergeant turned to Jasmine. ‘Sorry about this, Miss, but we can’t be too careful. There’s a lot of suspicious characters around at the moment. I couldn’t see what it was that caused the lieutenant to be suspicious but he’s only acting to protect you and your friend. We’ll deal with this as quickly as possible and then you can be on your way.’

  He had a kindly look and Jasmine nodded. ‘Please let him go as quickly as you can. I’m already late.’

  Bintang, head down, humiliated, was pushed into the middle of the platoon and marched through a gateway, inside the wired fence and out of sight.

  25

  It was more than an hour before Bintang was released from the barracks. Jasmine was grateful to Barbara Appleton for waiting with her on the shore, even though she was late for her rendezvous with her own driver.

  When Bintang eventually emerged from behind the wire fencing, he looked dishevelled, his shirt pulled out from the back of his trousers and a nasty bruise forming under his left eye.

  ‘They’ve hurt you!’ Jasmine rushed to greet him.

  The driver looked away, avoiding her gaze.

  ‘We need to make a complaint. They can’t be allowed to get away with that. You did nothing. They’ve hit you. Tell me exactly what happened, Bintang.

  The syce looked down, ‘Nothing happen, Missee. We go back to estate now.’

  Jasmine turned to appeal to Barbara, but her new friend was uncharacteristically quiet.

  The three headed in silence along Farquhar Street. Outside the E&O a large black limousine was parked. ‘My driver,’ said Barbara. ‘I’ll see you at the party.’ She flung her arms around Jasmine. ‘Don’t let what’s happened get you down. Your driver will be fine. And if you don’t come to my party I’ll never speak to you again.’ Blowing a kiss, she climbed into the back of the motorcar.

  Bintang held open the rear door for Jasmine. Not wanting to draw attention in the busy street, she got in, saying nothing, and he turned the key in the ignition. He negotiated the streets of George Town, expertly steering between people carrying straw panniers on long yokes over their shoulders, handcarts piled high with boxes, trishaws, bicycles, street food stalls, and men and women hurrying by, going about their business. As usual, Jasmine stared at the back of his head. His normally immaculately groomed hair was sticking up on one side and she wanted to reach a hand up and smooth it down.

  She waited for him to tell her what had happened, but he remained silent, driving as though he were alone in the car. When they pulled up at a junction to wait for a wooden hand cart, laden with water chestnuts, to be moved away from where it was blocking the road, without stopping to think, Jasmine hitched up her skirt and scrambled over the back of the front passenger seat, landing beside him.

  A small almost indiscernible shadow of a smile fleeted across Bintang’s face, gone so quickly, Jasmine couldn’t be sure it was ever there. She adjusted her skirt over her knees.

  ‘Now will you tell me what happened?’ she asked, as the car pulled away from the junction.

  ‘Nothing to tell, Missee.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Bintang. You have a black eye.’

  He looked up at the rear-view mirror and winced. ‘Must have tripped over.’

  ‘You were hit.’

  ‘I told you. Ellis very bad man.’

  ‘I’m going to talk to Reggie. He’ll take it up with the commanding officer at the barracks. Ellis can’t go about beating up innocent men like that.’

  Bintang looked at her. ‘He say I am min yuen.’

  ‘That’s preposterous!’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘What do you mean? Of course, it is!’

  ‘Easy for him say I am. Now he has photograph of me. He will put it on wanted list. Can arrest without trial. No proof needed.’

  ‘I’m going to talk to the tuan as soon as we get home. He’ll put a stop to this.’

  ‘No, Missee. He hurt grandmother.’

  ‘Reggie?’ Jasmine twisted around in the seat to face him. ‘Of course, he won’t!’

  ‘Not tuan. Soldier. Bad man.’

  ‘But how does he even know about your grandmother?’

  Bintang shrugged. ‘He know everything.’

  ‘Why on earth would Ellis hurt your grandmother? She’s an innocent old lady.’

  ‘He say she min yuen too. Age not important.’

  ‘But what are we going to do? We can’t let him get away with this.’

  ‘I leave here. Go where he can’t find me.’

  Jasmine felt a sudden chill, despite the balmy warmth of the early evening. ‘Where? What are you going to do?’

  ‘I leave island. Go to jungle.’

  She was sitting sideways on the seat, one leg tucked under her, trying to read his face, but he stared ahead, his face expressionless as he negotiated the bends in the steep road.

  ‘You’re going to join the commu
nists?’ Her throat closed in fear.

  He turned his head and looked at her steadily. ‘You tell no one. Not even tuan. I go find my father.’

  ‘But you told me your father is dead. That he was killed in the war.’

  ‘No, I said he did not come back from war. I think he is in jungle.’

  Jasmine experienced a rush of emotion. What was happening? She was out of her depth. ‘You’re going to be a communist? You’re going to join the terrorists. Why?’

  ‘Why you think? Now I have no choice.’

  ‘Of course, you have a choice! Just because Ellis is a bad person it doesn’t mean you have to become one. The communists murder innocent people. They kill people like the tuan, people like me.’ Tears welled up in her eyes, unexpectedly. A mix of fear, anger and shock. ‘Please, Bintang. Don’t do this. I beg you, please don’t. You can’t join the terrorists. Stop the car now.’

  ‘We late. It’s dark. Tuan and mem worried if you not home. Please, say nothing about what happen.’

  ‘I can’t talk like this. I want you to look at me. Stop the car!’ She was almost shouting.

  He did as she asked, drifting the vehicle to the side of the road under some trees. Where the road curved, Jasmine glimpsed a silver trail of moonlight lighting a pathway over the distant sea.

  Switching the ignition off, Bintang turned at last to face her. Seeing her tear-stained face, his own registered surprise. ‘Don’t cry. Missee Jasmine. Please don’t cry.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go. Do you understand? Don’t go, Bintang. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. It will be all my fault.’

  ‘Not your fault. Why you say that?’ His eyes were full of concern.

  ‘Ellis is angry with you because you helped me. He probably feels you humiliated him when you stopped him trying to kiss me. Now I wish you hadn’t. I’d rather have put up with that than lose you. Oh, Bintang, I will do anything if it means you’ll stay. I’ll even go and apologise to Ellis.’

  ‘You not apologise. You do nothing wrong.’ His voice verged on anger.