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The House of Seven Fountains

Page 8

by Anne Weale


  “What exactly are you warning me against, Mrs. Carshalton?” Vivien asked, suddenly impatient of such a lengthy preamble.

  “Well, the fact is that certain barriers are better kept up. East is East and West is West...”

  “Yes, Julian has already quoted that to me,” Vivien said abruptly. “Would you care for some more tea?”

  “Thank you ... so refreshing.” Mrs. Carshalton prepared to continue her lecture. She was not a perceptive woman and it did not occur to her that her well-meant strictures might not prove acceptable.

  “I thought Julian might have said something to you,” she said, nodding her head approvingly. “Of course, the situation is not quite the same for him. Some of the Chinese girls are quite pretty little creatures, and naturally, with so few English girls about, the younger men amuse themselves in certain quarters. One must be broadminded and the girls don’t expect any social recognition, so it is quite harmless.”

  “Shall we come to the point?” Vivien said bluntly.

  Mrs. Carshalton was momentarily disconcerted. She flattered herself that she was the soul of tact (which in her vocabulary meant having a flair for implication and innuendo, a delicate skirting of the point at issue) and she disliked being hurried.

  “Well—I happened to see you in town the other day. You were riding in a trisha with your amah. Now I daresay you did it just for the novelty, but it rather worried me. To be frank, my dear, it isn’t at all the thing for Europeans to use trishas.”

  She set down her tea cup and wiped the corners of her small mouth with a linen handkerchief.

  “It would have been better if you had hired a separate trisha for the servant. It gives them ideas above their station if you too, er, informal with them.”

  “Ah Kim was helping me to shop, and we took a trisha because we had rather a lot of parcels,” Vivien said in a deceptively mild tone.

  “I see. It was quite a natural mistake, and I’m sure you don’t intend to make a habit of it. Some of the army families—the lower ranks, you know—do use trishas and even travel on the native buses, I’m told. But then they don’t mix with us. Only the officers are allowed to join the club.”

  “Why?”

  Mrs. Carshalton looked flustered.

  “My dear child, surely...?” Her gesture implied that the answer was so obvious it did not need expression.

  “Why only the officers?” Vivien repeated quietly.

  Mrs. Carshalton inspected her crimson nails with an expression reminiscent of someone faced with a question to which there was no delicate reply.

  “We all know that the social strata are not as clearly defined as they were before the war, and no doubt that is an excellent thing in some ways. However, one cannot pretend that distinctions do not exist. Some of the lower ranks are ... not quite...”

  “They protect us from the terrorists,” Vivien said. Her tone was still level, but there was a dangerous glitter in her eyes.

  “Yes, yes, of course they do. We all admire them tremendously, but I’m sure they would not be comfortable if we did admit them to the club.”

  “Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

  “Just one other point. I noticed that you were playing Mah-Jongg when I arrived. I quite understand how dull it is for you while you are tied to your chair after this unfortunate accident, but take a tip from an older woman, my dear, don’t treat your servants as equals. They lose their respect for you.”

  Vivien said nothing and after the silence had lasted a full minute Mrs. Carshalton began to wonder if in some mysterious way she had offended the girl. Young people were so sensitive and touchy.

  “Don’t be offended, my dear. I assure you that your little errors are quite safe with me. I won’t say a word to anyone. After all, what are we older people for if not to advise you youngsters when you’re in difficulties.”

  “I’m glad you told me,” Vivien said softly. “Now I know where I stand.

  She rang the brass handbell that Chen had given her so that she could summon him without moving.

  “Now, let me tell you something, Mrs. Carshalton. Not only do I disagree with all the narrow-minded and snobbish views that you have just expressed, but I have not the least intention of conforming with your ideas of suitable behavior. If the trishas and buses are good enough for the servicemen’s wives they are quite good enough for me, and I shouldn’t dream of humiliating my amah by riding in a separate vehicle. As for my giving the staff ideas above their station—that would be impossible, as I don’t regard them as inferiors. In fact, I shall be very proud if I can gain their friendship and respect. If I want advice on how to behave while I’m in Mauping, I shall consult Chen. He was a close friend of my godfather, and I can’t think of anyone better to advise me. One more point. Since the club isn’t open to ‘the lower ranks’ as you call them—the very people to whom we owe our safety while the Communists are fighting us—then I prefer not to go there. If you care to inform your friends of my attitude it will probably save me from any more interviews of this kind.”

  Mrs. Carshalton looked as if she could not believe her ears. Then a look of outrage and fury convulsed her smug features.

  “You don’t know what you are saying,” she exclaimed angrily.

  “On the contrary, I think I have made myself perfectly clear,” Vivien returned evenly.

  “So! You’re going to adopt your godfather’s high and mighty attitude, are you?” the older woman said nastily. Her gushing manner was replaced by a vindictive sneer. “Then let me tell you this, Miss Connell. Your precious godfather was ostracized by English society. He made such an exhibition of himself that none of us cared to mix with him. ”

  “I imagine that didn’t perturb him unduly,” Vivien said dryly. “Ah, there you are, Chen. The mem is leaving. Will you show her out, please. Goodbye, Mrs. Carshalton. I doubt if we shall encounter each other very frequently. It was kind of you to inquire after my health.”

  “You’ll be sorry for this. We don’t care for ill-mannered upstarts in Mauping!” Mrs. Carshalton snapped. Her tightly corseted figure quivered with outraged dignity, and her tone was so melodramatic that, had she been less sickened by the woman’s bigotry, Vivien would have laughed.

  “I think I’ll survive,” she said coolly.

  Livid with rage, her rouged lips compressed into a malevolent line, Mrs. Carshalton snatched up her handbag and almost ran across the courtyard. A few minutes later Vivien heard her car starting up and roaring down the drive as if she had vented her wrath on the innocent Malay driver.

  Although she had managed to keep her voice down, Vivien was filled with a furious disgust equal to that felt by her adversary. To calm herself she took a cigarette from the sandalwood box and lighted it. Obviously the wretched woman would lose no time in spreading the story of their clash around her circle of cronies. Not that it mattered if she did. Vivien had no desire to sail under false colors. She was a little surprised to find how deeply the encounter had stirred her. She had never come up against racial prejudice before, and it was like finding some foul slithering creature beneath an innocent-looking stone.

  “Chen, would you mind making another pot of tea? I didn’t enjoy that one very much,” she asked as he returned to say that mem Carshalton had gone.

  By the time he brought fresh tea she was calm enough to be amused at the diverting spectacle of Mrs. Carshalton’s rear view as she stormed out. Like an agitated turkey that is so cross it can scarcely gobble, she thought, grinning.

  “The mem has made an enemy. The Mem Carshalton is not pleased,” Chen said suddenly, handing her a cup of tea.

  “Not at all pleased,” Vivien agreed. “I’m afraid I forgot the custom of courtesy, Chen. Did you understand what it was all about?”

  He nodded. “It was for the same reason that Tuan Cunningham had few friends among the white races.”

  “Oh, Chen, how can people be so stupid!” she said impatiently. “Are some of your race the same? Do they de
spise us?”

  Again he nodded. “The proud heart is to be found in all races. It breeds much bitterness.”

  “The trouble is that it is infectious,” she murmured soberly. “I don’t care what the Carshalton crowd think of me, but I daresay some people might be forced to kowtow to them. Mrs. C. seems to be quite influential.”

  “She has the tongue of an asp,” Chen said coldly. He saw the line of strain around Vivien’s mouth. “The foot is painful? The mem should rest on her bed. I will call Ah Kim.”

  “No, no. I would rather stay here. I’ll listen to the fountains for a while and forget about our unwelcome guest.” Vivien assured him. “I’m sorry our game was cut short. I was enjoying it.”

  His sallow face warmed into a smile.

  “The tuan did well not to choose the little mem to follow him,” he said gently.

  “Thank you, Chen. I’ll do my best to live up to him,” she answered shyly, holding out her hand.

  Chen took it in his own thin hand and bowed.

  “The mem should sleep. Later the tuan doctor will come,” he said.

  VIVIEN DOZED for an hour and awoke much refreshed. She had just combed her hair and repaired her lipstick when she heard another car coming up the drive.

  “Oh, dear, I hope it isn’t Mrs. C. coming to tell me I’ve been struck off the residency guest list,” she thought wryly.

  But when the youngest houseboy came through the arch leading from the entrance hall, it was to announce Tuan Barclay wished to see her.

  “Bring him in,” Vivien said eagerly. Julian had been up-country for two days, and she had missed him.

  “Hello, what’s this chapter of accidents I’ve been hearing about?” he greeted her, depositing an enormous box of chocolates tied with satin ribbon in her lap.

  “The grapevine is efficient,” she said. “What gorgeous chocolates. Thank you very much—although I’m not really ill enough to merit extravagant presents, you know.”

  “That’s a relief. I’ve been hearing all kinds of gruesome stories, but I guessed they would be a bit exaggerated. You crazy little idiot, did you really risk your neck for some sniveling brat?”

  He pulled up a chair and sat down, appraising her slender figure in the brief white shorts and lime green shirt. “Your legs are much too pretty to be spoiled by bandages. How long do you think you’ll be laid up?”

  “About two days. How was your trip?”

  “Business trips are all the same,” he said with a grimace. “I had to put up at a rest house, which meant sleeping on one of those webbing beds that sag in the middle and being kept awake by some missionary snoring his head off in the next room.”

  “Poor you!” She laughed. Julian was the antithesis of a keen businessman and made no bones about his lack of interest in his job.

  “I was hoping we could celebrate my return to civilization, but this has put paid to it,” he said, eyeing her bandages. “Pity. There’s a tombola session at the club tonight. They’re usually quite amusing, and you might have had beginner’s luck and carried off the hundred dollar snowball.”

  Vivien bit her lip. She would have to tell Julian about her row with Mrs. Carshalton sooner or later so she might as well get it over.

  “I won’t be going to the club anymore,” she said evenly. He raised startled eyebrows. “Why on earth not?”

  “Mrs. Carshalton was here earlier. I’m afraid we had a row, and I told her I wouldn’t go to the club again.”

  “A row? With Madge? What about?” He frowned, his hand suspended in the act of lighting a cigarette.

  Vivien shifted her position, wincing as a prick of pain caught her ankle.

  “She wanted to advise me on how to behave while I was in Mauping. I didn’t agree with her views and said some things that made her very angry.”

  “What sort of things? What is all this about?” he demanded.

  “Look, Julian, the first night I was here you told me I was a greenhorn, that I didn’t know anything about Malaya. It was true. It still is. But there are some things that one knows instinctively. Mrs. Carshalton warned me against being friendly with the staff here and told me I shouldn’t have ridden in a trisha with Ah Kim.”

  “So?”

  “So I told her I wanted to be friendly with the Chinese, and I liked riding in trishas.”

  “But how does the club come into it?”

  “She happened to mention in a rather unpleasant way that only officers were admitted. I was annoyed by her attitude to men without commissions and told her I didn’t care to go there anymore, that’s all.”

  Julian smoked in silence for some moments, his forehead puckered in a contemplative frown.

  “I see,” he said at last. “It wasn’t very wise of you to clash with Madge. She is a leading light in our little community. She can make things darned awkward for you if she feels inclined. “

  “Possibly. I’m not particularly concerned with Mrs. Carshalton’s favorable opinion.”

  “Anyhow, even if you said you wouldn’t go to the club, there’s no need to stand by it. Everyone loses their temper and makes a rash statement occasionally,” he went on more cheerfully.

  “But I didn’t lose my temper, and I mean to keep my word.”

  “Oh, come now, you can’t be serious. The club is the center of everything. It would be absurd to cut yourself off from it because of a silly tiff with Madge. As a matter of fact the army boys have a first rate Naafi club where the drinks are half the price of ours.”

  “It isn’t that aspect of it that I mind. After all, I wouldn’t refuse to dine at the Ritz because lots of people can’t afford to go there. I just don’t care to make friends with people like Mrs. Carshalton.”

  “She’s a bit of a witch, but harmless enough in the main,” Julian said.

  “Is she? I’m sorry, but I don’t think people who have her outlook are harmless. She seems to think Asian people are a lower form of life. She was also extremely rude about my godfather.”

  “Hang it all, Vivien, she was probably telling the truth. After all, you never knew him yourself. He was a terrific crank. Anyone will tell you that.” Julian was beginning to get impatient.

  “Do you think I should have hired a second trisha for Ah Kim?” she asked directly.

  He shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s a bit of a crush for two people to ride in one.”

  She sighed. He was a past master at evading awkward issues, yet the point must be settled if they were going to continue their friendship.

  “Mrs. Carshalton also made some veiled remarks about young Englishmen flirting with Chinese girls because of the shortage of English ones. I gather she included you. If you can flirt with Asians, presumably you don’t object to my being friendly with Chen and Ah Kim,” she said frankly.

  A flash of annoyance darkened Julian’s good-looking face.

  “Why the hell can’t that woman keep a still tongue? She’d blackguard an archangel,” he muttered irritably. “You didn’t take her seriously, did you? I mean to say, I’ve danced with Chinese girls at the local cabaret and that sort of thing, but there’s never been anything in it.”

  Vivien expelled an exasperated breath.

  “Oh, Julian, haven’t you grasped yet that I like the Chinese? If you were engaged to an Asian girl I wouldn’t regard you as a social pariah. But I’m not going to change my mind about the club, so if it will make it difficult for us to go on being friends I wish you would say so. I shall quite understand. After all, you live here and you don’t want to antagonize the others by mixing with someone of whom they disapprove.”

  Ignoring the last part of her remarks, he smiled and possessed himself of both her hands.

  “If I were engaged to a Chinese woman, would you come to a dance with me on Saturday Week?”

  “Hardly. You’d be taking your fiancée.” She tried to withdraw her hands, but he held them more tightly.

  “Then I’m glad I’m not engaged to one of your Asian lovelies. As for the other
business, if you are going to be shunned then I shall be only too happy to share your exclusion. Actually, it isn’t at all likely that you will be an outcast from the happy band. If Madge is feeling spiteful she may succeed in turning some of the diehards against you, but the younger set aren’t likely to take it very seriously.”

  His pressure on her hands tightened, and his smile was difficult to resist.

  “Now let’s forget this storm in a teacup and talk about something more interesting. Have you missed me while I’ve been in the wilds?”

  Julian stayed for an hour, and then Vivien said he would have to go as she was expecting the doctor and wanted to shower and change before he arrived. He bade her a gay farewell, inviting himself to lunch the following day to “speed her recovery” as he put it.

  When he had gone she called Ah Kim to help her to the bathroom. She was still smiling at his infectious nonsense as she limped indoors, one arm around the amah’s shoulders.

  “I may as well wear one of my new dresses,” she said some time later as she sat at the dressing table enveloped in a large towel while the Chinese girl brushed her hair. Ah Kim was fascinated by the honey gold color, so different from her own jet black mane. She insisted on brushing it and twisting the ends around her fingers to encourage the curl.

  Catching the familiar word “dress,” Ah Kim nodded vigorously.

  “Tuan doctor come. Mem make pretty. Doctor nice. Mem like?” she inquired.

  “Yes, I like the doctor,” Vivien said, unable to explain that she knew very little about him and so far their encounters had not been entirely amicable.

  By the time she was dressed in a full-skirted dress of lilac cotton with a low square neck and tiny puffed sleeves, Chen was tapping at the door to say that dinner was ready. Vivien took a final look at her reflection in the pier glass. The dress was the prettiest she had ever possessed, but it was not only that that improved her appearance. Already her skin was beginning to tan and the golden bloom accentuated the green flecks in her eyes and the paleness of her hair. Without conceit she knew that she looked far more attractive than she had ever done in England.

 

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