by Ann Massey
Roger was too cunning to take his amah into the hotel restaurant for breakfast and ordered room service. It was unlikely that any of his wife’s friends would be holidaying in Labuan. It wasn’t a popular resort with the ex-pat community; they favoured Kota Kinabulu or Kuching for local getaways. All the same, you couldn’t be too careful. He congratulated himself on the clever way he’d covered his tracks.
Roger wished Ruby had put something over her nightie. He glared as he caught the waiter sneaking a look at her. Well, the man could forget any ideas about getting a tip. But his good humour returned as he tucked into a plate of halal bacon and eggs. He’d got used to eating turkey bacon, prepared to resemble the real thing, on the rig. He smiled across at Rubiah, who was finishing off a plate of rice porridge.
She had ordered bubur sumsum. ‘Is good. You try. You like, I make for you,’ she offered shyly.
Roger liked porridge, but he hadn’t had any since he was a boy in St John’s and his ma had made him and his three brothers eat it to counteract the storms sweeping across Newfoundland off the North Atlantic Ocean. He looked at the dish of rice porridge mixed with unrecognisable vegetables, salted fish and sambal in disbelief and shook his head. Rubiah hid her disappointment and Roger had no idea that he’d hurt her feelings.
It was an early, hurried meal because he had arranged to take her fishing with a couple of guys he knew who worked on the same rig. He wasn’t worried they’d gossip. Lots of married ex-pats had local girlfriends, and not only the men whose wives had stayed home. He knew he could rely on his pals to keep quiet about Ruby, and anyway, they were based in Labuan so it was unlikely they’d turn up in Miri.
Andre Marchant, the sales manager of the French oilfield equipment company Bourbon et Jardinière, was waiting at the wharf. He smiled at Rubiah when Roger introduced him.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, madam,’ he said courteously. ‘I regret I am not able to accompany you, Roger,’ he said with a disarming smile. ‘I’m hosting a company golf tournament this weekend, but Georges, my chauffeur, is a competent mariner and you’ll be safe in his hands.’
‘It’s good of Andre to lend us his launch, eh,’ said Roger, thinking he was giving Ruby a real treat by taking her fishing in the South China Sea. He hadn’t bothered to find out that her people were Sea Dayaks who lived near the mouths of the great rivers and made their living from the sea. ‘I bought some Quells from the drugstore in case you feel sick when we get out to sea.’
Rubiah obediently swallowed the proffered capsule, although there was no likelihood that she’d suffer any ill effects from the sea trip. She had been fishing these waters with her father, brothers and cousins since she was a small girl.
‘I think I see your companions arriving,’ said Andre, gesturing with a flourish towards the carpark.
Roger’s heart sank when he saw that Hank had brought his girlfriend.
‘Walter rang me first thing,’ Hank said. ‘He’s got the runs. Must’ve eaten a prawn that was off last night. Last thing he feels like is sailing, even on something as luxurious as this baby. They treat you very well, Andre,’ he added, commenting on Andre’s use of the company launch without a trace of envy. ‘Have you met my lady? Andre, Roger, this is Mel.’
Melanie was looking healthy, happy and relaxed. She and Hank had been together now for over twelve months and were talking about making it permanent. Like Crystal, the ex-showgirl was trying to escape her past. She’d let her hair go back to its natural colour and put on a few pounds since she’d stopped dancing. There was little chance that anyone would recognise her as a former White Diamond, but all the same she had kept her murky past hidden from the hoity-toity oilfield wives in Labuan.
It was a perfect day. The sky was cloudless and the azure sea was smooth and sparkling.
‘Oh no,’ said Roger when Georges dropped the sea anchor thirty kilometres west of the island.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Hank.
‘I’ve forgotten the bait.’
Melanie rolled her eyes at Hank but she wasn’t really concerned. It was fantastic out here, flying through the foam, a white wave creaming around the ledge of the boat.
‘There’s a fishing boat over there,’ said Hank, and he took off his shirt and waved madly.
‘They’ve seen us,’ said Mel excitedly as the fishing smack changed direction.
The authorities had a policy of suppressing information about the explosion of piracy in the South China Sea so the ex-pats had no idea they were courting danger, but Rubiah was on edge. As soon as she saw the crew and realised they were Dayaks, she calmed down. It was well known that Filipinos kidnapped foreigners but she’d never heard any stories about her own people terrorising tourists.
When the ramshackle, leaky old craft was bobbing up and down alongside, Roger tried to explain to the perplexed fishermen that they wanted to buy a fish to use for bait. He was amazed when they didn’t understand him. The wire-line crew he worked with on the rig were mainly Dayaks and they all understood English.
‘He no understands,’ said Rubiah, pushing in front of him and explaining the situation in Bahasa. ‘You give him money for fish,’ she ordered Roger. ‘Twenty ringgit.’
Roger was about to haggle but Hank opened up his billfold and handed over the money. Their captain handed over a fish from their catch and they motored away noisily, waving and shouting. Mel waved goodbye to them, her smile curved and red as a freshly cut watermelon.
‘It’s a good job Ruby speaks their lingo,’ Roger said, beaming at everyone as he cut up the fish. ‘I’ll bait your line, Ruby,’ he said, expecting her to be squeamish.
‘We go now,’ she said, ignoring the proffered line.
‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ He thought she looked queasy and he hunted in his pockets for the Quells, oblivious to the danger that had turned her face sickly green.
‘Look, they’re coming back,’ said Mel, clapping her hands. ‘I must get a picture. They look so authentic. You don’t see the real, traditional people until you get off the beaten track. This is so exciting, Hank.’ She opened up her backpack and took out a camera.
The fishing boat circled the launch and the sailors held up fish. ‘You buy … only twenty ringgit.’
‘No, one’s enough,’ shouted Roger.
‘Look, there are even more coming,’ said Hank. ‘That fisherman must’ve told the whole fleet there are some crazy white men paying big money for fish.’
‘No wonder,’ said Roger, giving Rubiah a dirty look. ‘I could’ve bought a fish this size for five ringgit in the market.’ He didn’t like to be cheated.
The dilapidated boat pulled up alongside, and the master cut the engine and ordered one of the crew to lash the vessels together.
‘Hey, get back to your own boat,’ Roger yelled, his jaw thrust out as several members of the bare-chested crew scrambled over the side and onto the launch.
Georges watched from the fly bridge as three other boats circled the launch like a pod of killer whales around a sick dolphin. ‘Up here, mes amis. Vite!
The Frenchman was worried. They were thirty kilometres from shore, alone and defenceless. A month ago a group of armed pirates had killed a fisherman off Sabah and taken his boat. Word was the pirates preyed on other fishermen but he hadn’t thought they’d have the gall to target tourists. True, with his powerful motor he could outrun the fishing boats, but they had him surrounded.
‘I’m going to radio for help,’ Georges whispered to Roger and Hank when they joined him on the bridge. ‘Don’t say anything to the ladies. We don’t want them to panic.’
Mel had no idea there was any danger. When one of the fishermen sidled up to her, she smiled at him in her friendly fashion. She handed her camera to Rubiah, who noticed the knives thrust in their belts and hoped that Georges had guns on board.
‘Get a picture of me with this guy.’ Mel peeled off her towelling wrap, put an arm round the fisherman and grinned at the camera.
Rubiah
hissed an urgent warning. ‘You put this on. Not good to show men your body.’
Melanie just smiled and let the robe fall on the deck. The Dayak called out something to his companion and they both stared at the girl in her minuscule bikini, her eyes hidden behind enormous, dark, wraparound sunglasses specially designed to cut out all glare. Mel thought they were admiring her and she flicked her hair back and smiled, but it was the sunglasses the fisherman coveted. His hand snaked out and he snatched them off her face. The next minute he was wearing them and pointing excitedly at the fish in the crystal-clear water. He said something in his own language to his son and tossed him the glasses.
‘Give those back before you drop them overboard,’ ordered Mel shrilly. ‘They’re not replicas, you know.’
The fisherman looked at the brazen foreign woman posing half naked like a whore and he spat at her. ‘You like we make fuck,’ he said, and pinned her against the cabin with his body. His erection was hard against her thigh and his hands lingered over her soft, lush curves.
‘Let me go, you animal!’ yelled Mel, struggling futilely, his spittle running down her cheek.
‘Hey, leave her alone!’ Grabbing a boat hook, Hank started down the ladder.
The fisherman looked at the shameless white girl hungrily. Soon, he promised himself. He strode toward Hank, the sharp gutting knife in his hand.
‘No, Ijau, no,’ yelled Rubiah in Bahasa, and flung herself in between the pirate and Hank. ‘It’s me, Rubiah, the daughter of your kinswoman. My father Entri married Lada, your great chief’s granddaughter. We may live in different longhouses but we are the same people … and these are my friends. I beg you to spare them for my mother’s sake and the special bond between our tribes.’ She dropped to her knees before him, head bent and eyes lowered respectfully.
The tribe from the Indonesian side of the border had attacked Rubiah’s people continually since they had first arrived at the mouth of the great river. The two tribes had formed settlements around the same time and there was much competition for land. On both sides of the border the shrunken heads of the enemy hung from the rafters of the rival longhouses until the dynastic marriage between Entri and Lada had put an end to the warfare.
‘Why is the daughter of Lada consorting with Western filth?’ Ijau barked, looking at the party contemptuously.
‘Forgive me, uncle,’ she pleaded, reminding him of their distant relationship. ‘We are poor and there are many children to feed. My family needs the money I earn from the foreigners. Spare them. I ask you for my mother’s sake.’
Reluctantly, Ijau sheathed his knife. He understood about poverty. Twenty-five years ago his father had sold his younger sister to a brothel and he’d never seen her since. Rubiah was more fortunate than many impoverished tribal girls.
‘Arise, niece.’ He hugged her. ‘Tell your companions they were lucky this time. Back to the boats,’ he shouted to the other fishermen and he sprang lightly over the side.
‘My sunglasses! They’re Gucci!’ Mel cried, outraged.
‘I’ll buy you another pair,’ Hank said, looking at Rubiah with respect. ‘I think we’ve got this little lady to thank for saving our lives.’
‘Is nothing. We go back now,’ she said as Georges ordered Roger to winch up the anchor. ‘You want fish, plenty in market.’ She wondered why Roger was glaring at her.
Chapter 11
‘CAN’T YOU STOP HER CRYING?’ grumbled Heather. The power was off for the third time in a week. ‘How long for this time? It’s bad enough being stuck here with no air-conditioning without putting up with a screaming baby.’
‘Her mouth sore, Missus,’ said Rubiah wearily. She’d been up all night with Mei Li, who was teething. She picked up the feverish baby and rocked her unenthusiastically.
‘Okay, let’s go to the GCM. Hopefully the power’s on at the club and if not we can have a swim in the pool,’ said Heather with a pained sigh.
The Gymkhana Club was one of Miri’s oldest clubs with excellent facilities. Like most ex-pats, Roger and Heather had joined the club when they first arrived in the oil town and Heather spent most of her days there relaxing by the pool with Leonie. Usually she left Millie home with Rubiah when they went to the club, but Steve had leave and he and Leonie had gone back home to Calgary. Heather hated walking in on her own. Shy and insecure, the small-town girl was nervous around the chic company wives who had lived all over the world and talked knowledgeably about the latest novel, art and theatre. She was too timid to participate in their clever, witty chatter and they’d given up trying to include her. She was usually ignored unless they were desperate for a fourth for bridge.
No sooner had she settled down and ordered two ice teas than Mary-Grace, who was sitting at the next table, turned round and invited Heather to partner her in a game they were trying to set up. ‘Joyce cried off at the last minute,’ she explained. ‘Oh, you’ve brought your baby. She’s lovely, but isn’t she hot in that big woolly hat?’
‘No doubt, but my amah believes evil spirits enter the heads of babies through their soft spot. You know, where the skull bones haven’t closed completely. Believe me, it’s easier to go along with it.’
‘Hard to believe they still have such primitive ideas,’ replied Mary-Grace.
‘Not if you see how they live,’ cut in Merle, who’d spent a weekend at a longhouse over a month ago. ‘It was all right for Dave, he had a great time: off with the men to cock fights, hunting and fishing trips, roaring drunk every night on jungle juice. As for me, I was stuck for a whole weekend with a bunch of illiterate women. They were nice enough, mind, but none of them could speak English. All we could do was smile and nod at each other. It was the longest two days of my life, and don’t even mention the nights. It makes me shudder just thinking about the rats and bugs. It’s a wonder I didn’t catch typhoid or something worse. I told David never again.’
‘But it must have been interesting, seeing how they live.’
‘If you’re into that sort of thing. I’d rather go shopping in Orchard Road, dine at a fine restaurant and sleep in a comfortable bed in an air-conditioned suite at the Hilton. That’s my idea of a weekend break.’
‘If it’s as bad as you say no wonder so many of them are coming to live in the city,’ said Mary-Grace. ‘At least Heather’s giving this little one a chance at a better life. How old is she now?’
‘Six months.’
‘How are you getting on with the adoption? Is it finalised yet?’
‘No. It’s much harder than we thought to adopt a Malaysian baby. Next time Roger has leave we’ll go and talk to the authorities back home in person,’ said Heather gloomily.
Adopting Millie hadn’t been as straightforward as she had imagined, and sometimes she thought the whole idea had been a mistake. But she hadn’t told anyone how she felt, not even Roger, who always seemed so distant and preoccupied lately.
Heather was soon immersed in the game. Rubiah rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, prepared for a long wait. She didn’t mind. It was pleasant sitting here in the cool now that Mei Li had finally stopped whining and gone back to sleep. She sipped her tea and looked at her bare fingers and wrist sadly. She had sold most of her bracelet and rings to pay the bomoh, but she felt happier thinking about the ones she’d buy when she was the missus.
‘Ruby! Is it really you?’ called out a strident Australian voice.
Most of the women sitting at the tables nearby looked up. New arrivals were always scrutinised closely by the old hands.
‘Australian,’ whispered Mary-Grace, eyeing Melanie’s long legs enviously. ‘I hope she plays bridge. Do you know her, Heather? She seems to know your amah.’
Heather shook her head, puzzled, and tried to listen in on their conversation.
‘Hank has to do a two-day training course in Miri and I persuaded him to bring me along,’ Mel said to Rubiah with a friendly smile. ‘Am I glad to see you. I never really thanked you properly for what you did
for us that time in Labuan. You saved our lives.’ She sat down without being asked. ‘What fools you must have thought we all were. I never realised how much danger we were in. Hank explained it all to me when we got home. You know, I never knew pirates still existed.’
She noticed the baby for the first time. ‘Oh, is this your and Roger’s little one? She’s sweet. What’s her name? Can I hold her?’
‘She sleeping,’ said Rubiah, looking fearfully at Heather. ‘No wake her.’
‘We’re staying at the Holiday Inn,’ said Mel slowly, sounding out each syllable and speaking more loudly than normal. She’d forgotten how little English Ruby spoke. ‘Why don’t you and Roger come over tonight for dinner, our treat? Bring the baby too if you can’t find a babysitter. Hank’s really soppy about babies.’
‘Sorry, sorry, can’t come. Roger not here,’ Rubiah whispered.
‘What a shame, I’d love to catch up. Well, next time you and Roger are in Labuan you stay with us and bring your darling baby too. Got to run. I’m meeting a friend who moved here from Labuan. She used to live across the road from me. Ah, there she is,’ Mel said as a tall, athletic-looking woman came through the door. ‘Now remember, don’t be a stranger and give my love to Roger,’ she said and breezed over to meet her friend.
‘Well!’ said Mary-Grace. She was going to say more but one of the other women kicked her shin under the table and shook her head imperceptibly.
They played out the hand in silence, the rest of the party carefully avoiding catching Heather’s eye.
‘Sorry, Mary-Grace,’ apologised Heather when their partnership didn’t make the undemanding contract. ‘You’d have been better off with Joyce. Do you mind if I cry off? I like to put Millie down for an afternoon nap.’
‘No problem, Heather, I’ll walk to the car with you.’ Mary-Grace was hoping to hear the details of the most intriguing gossip to hit Miri in months.
‘No, it’s all right,’ mumbled Heather, fighting back tears. ‘Bye,’ she said quickly and turned away. ‘We’re leaving,’ she snapped, without looking at her amah.
