The Pearl of Penang

by Clare Flynn

  ‘So, what do you think I should do?’

  ‘Nothing. Jasmine will probably have forgotten soon. Maybe when it starts to look obvious you can tell her the baby’s in there. But she’s far too young to be told how it got there.’

  Evie laughed. ‘Oh goodness me! I certainly wouldn’t go that far - she’s only recently turned eight!’

  Dragging Jasmine and Penny away from the pools was quite a challenge, but Mary was keen to get most of the drive back to the ferry done before it fell dark. The little girls chattered away in the back seat and to Evie’s relief, there was no further mention of babies.

  After about an hour in the car, Jasmine announced that she needed to go to the lavatory.

  ‘I told you to go while we were in the changing rooms. There’s nowhere around here. You’ll just have to hold on, darling,’ said Evie.

  ‘I didn’t need to go then but I’m desperate now.’

  ‘You drank too much pop.’

  ‘Please Mummy! I don’t want to wet myself.’

  They were passing through a kampong and there were many Malays about.

  ‘Once we’re out of the village I’ll try and find a place to stop and you can go behind a tree.’ Mary glanced over her shoulder at the little girl.

  Just then, Evie saw a sign at the roadside. Batu Lembah. Barrington Rubber. ‘Turn off here, Mary. It’s my husband’s estate. We can call in and Jasmine can use the bathroom. Better than having to go by the roadside.’

  Mary swung the car onto the gravel track. ‘Looks like the bungalow and offices are over there,’ she said. ‘It’s good we don’t have to go far.’

  A few hundred yards ahead, the rubber trees gave way to a padang that Evie guessed was where the musters were held. A line of wooden dwellings ran along each side of the open grassy area, and just beyond was a small building raised above the ground in the traditional Malay style, with a veranda running around it and stairs leading up to the open front door. It had a shabby air of neglect.

  Mary parked the car at the side of the house and Evie and Jasmine jumped out. ‘We’ll only be a few moments. I won’t hold us up,’ said Evie. Thinking better of it, she added, ‘Tell you what. Why don’t I get the housekeeper to make us some tea before I go? You can meet my husband.’

  Mary flicked the ignition off and she and Penny followed them out of the car.

  Jasmine was already running up the steps, excited at the unexpected chance to see her father. Evie followed close behind her.

  Douglas didn’t notice them at first. He was sitting at the table, his head turned towards the woman standing behind him. Bare to the waist and shoeless, he was wearing a sarong and the woman was massaging his neck and shoulders.

  Evie froze on the threshold as Jasmine cannoned across the room, bouncing up and down. ‘Daddy, Daddy, I need the bathroom. I’m bursting and I’m going to wet myself.’

  Doug’s head whipped round and his face signalled shock at seeing his wife and daughter.

  Behind Evie, Mary reached the top of the steps and, taking in the significance of the scene immediately, she grabbed Penny’s hand and led her back to the car, hissing to the girl to be quiet, as she started to protest.

  Doug flicked his head sideways to the Malayan woman and spoke to her rapidly in her own language. The only words Evie recognised were bilk mandi, which she remembered meant bathroom. The woman was slight, with delicate features, waist-length hair and of an indeterminate age, although Evie guessed she was older than she appeared. Feeling her knees buckle and her throat dry up, Evie watched, mute, as the woman took Jasmine’s hand and led her out of the room.

  Evie’s eyes swept around the room. It was spartan – barely furnished apart from the table, on which were the unwashed dishes from an interrupted meal. Behind her husband, she glimpsed an unmade bed through an open doorway. She felt the bile rise in her throat. Her hands flew to her mouth as her body began to shake. Leaning back against the door frame, she tried to gather her thoughts. How was this happening? How could he? Like a punch in the stomach, her world and everything she believed in crashed around her. No! Oh God, no!

  Douglas said nothing, staring at her in shocked silence.

  She hissed at him, ‘I don’t want that woman near our daughter.’ She stumbled along the corridor where she found the woman waiting outside the closed bathroom door. Pushing her out of the way, Evie opened the door and found Jasmine inside pulling up her knickers. She waited, numb and in shock as the little girl dipped the dipper into the large Shanghai jar, poured it into the ceramic wash bowl and washed her hands.

  ‘Come on, darling. Do hurry up.’ She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice but realised she was almost croaking.

  ‘Miss Helston always says we must wash our hands when we go to the lavatory.’ Then, ‘Why are you crying, Mummy? What’s the matter?’

  Her step-daughter’s lip was trembling so Evie forced herself to breathe deeply and gather her composure. ‘I’m not crying, darling. I’ve just got something in my eye. We need to go right away as Miss Helston doesn’t like driving in the dark and we don’t want to miss the ferry.’

  Expecting Jasmine to argue, Evie was relieved that, as if sensing something bad had happened, the girl complied and followed her out of the bathroom. There was no sign of the Malayan woman when they emerged.

  Back in the main room – there was no way that Evie would dignify the scruffy space with the word drawing room – Douglas was pacing up and down.

  ‘Go to the car, Jasmine,’ she said. ‘Tell Miss Helston I’ll be out in just a moment. I need to speak to your father first.’

  Jasmine went outside to join the others without protest.

  Evie looked at Douglas, still struggling to believe what she had witnessed. ‘How could you? Knowing that I’m carrying our baby. How could you?’ Her voice trembled but she willed herself not to cry.

  Douglas looked down, but said nothing. Apart from the instructions to the woman, he hadn’t spoken a word since they’d arrived.

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘My housekeeper.’

  ‘Your housekeeper?’ She could hear the contempt in her own voice. ‘I have to get those girls home. But you need to know that you have crushed me. Broken me.’ She felt her emotions start to spin out of control. ‘I can’t talk about it now.’ She moved towards the door as he called out her name.

  Standing on the threshold, she looked back at him. ‘How long has this been going on?’

  ‘Look, Evie–’

  ‘No. On second thoughts, I don’t want to know. You disgust me.’

  She rushed down the steps and into the waiting car. ‘Drive! For goodness sake, drive please, Mary,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  19

  The last half-hour to the ferry port at Butterworth passed in silence, apart from the rhythmic squeak of the windscreen wipers as they drove through a sudden tropical deluge. In the back of the car, the girls had fallen asleep, Penny’s head on Jasmine’s shoulder. Mary Helston drove with her eyes fixed on the road ahead. When Evie had got into the car her friend had squeezed her hand, but said nothing. Evie was grateful for the silence. The thought of speaking about what had just taken place filled her with horror. She preferred to wallow alone in her misery and anger.

  Her thoughts were in turmoil. Douglas’s betrayal was devastating, especially after the Christmas holidays they had spent as a family, the close approximation to affection that he had been beginning to show her, and his pleasure at the child they were going to have together. Yet all that time he had been tucked up in his sordid love nest with his native whore. No wonder he spent most of his time at Batu Lembah. No wonder he had refused to bring Evie there. She had been taken for a fool.

  Over and over again, her mind replayed the scene in the bungalow. The woman’s hands gently kneading his naked back. The tumbled sheets on the unmade bed. Had they just finished love-making? Had they merely stopped to have some food? Is this what happened every time he was away from George
Town? Every night? How long had it been going on? With a chill that froze her to the marrow in spite of the sultry heat of the evening, she wondered who else had known about this. The Leightons? She found it hard to imagine that Veronica wouldn’t have found a way to let her know, to take pleasure in the telling. But Arthur? As Doug’s best friend he must surely have known. And she remembered the knowing looks the Hyde-Underwoods had exchanged when Douglas had brought her to Bellavista; their surprise that he had married.

  Evie felt nauseous but it had nothing to do with the baby. She had so far experienced none of the morning sickness that the doctor had warned might blight the early weeks of her pregnancy. She prayed for the drive to be over and longed to be alone.

  During the twenty-minute ferry crossing, Mary spoke to her at last. ‘Evie, I want to remind you that you can always count on me. I know you won’t feel like talking at the moment, but when you do, I will be waiting. I can’t make it any better, but at least I understand how you must be feeling.’ She drew her lips into a tight, rueful line and pulled Evie into her arms and gave her a hug. ‘And if you want me to take Jasmine off your hands while you talk to your husband, just tell me. Since Penny lives next door to me they can play together and I can give them both their tea.’

  ‘Thank you. But I don’t want to talk to him ever again.’ Evie’s voice was a whisper. She gripped Mary’s arm. ‘Does everyone in George Town know? Have they all been laughing at me behind my back?’

  ’No. I’m certain they don’t know. George Town’s like a village. I’d have heard if there were rumours flying round. And, as you will have gathered this afternoon, Rowena Cameron, Penny’s mum, is one of the biggest gossips on the island. I’ve not heard a squeak.’

  Two days later, Evie woke in the middle of the night, needing to go to the lavatory. To her horror she found she had lost some blood.

  Panic gripped her. Was she losing the baby?

  Staggering to the staircase she went downstairs, through the house, into the garden and hammered on the door of the single-storey building where Aunty Mimi and the other servants slept.

  Benny appeared at one of the far windows, then Cookie opened the door. Aunty Mimi, her hair down, stood behind him.

  ‘Aunty Mimi, please come. The baby...’ She clutched her stomach.

  Saying something rapidly in Chinese to Cookie, Aunty Mimi left the lodge and followed Evie back across the lawn and into the house. After questioning Evie, she led her back to bed and told her she would bring tea as soon as she’d summoned the doctor.

  Evie sipped the tea, fear and anxiety weighing heavy upon her. She had already lost her husband and now it seemed fate was about to steal her unborn child. More than ever now she was desperate to have this baby.

  By the time the doctor arrived, Evie was in tears, convinced she was miscarrying – although there had been no further bleeding.

  It was a duty doctor, a younger man, who examined her, told her the baby’s heartbeat was good and that minor bleeding did not always mean a miscarriage. Telling her to take it easy and come into the surgery to see Dr Oates as soon as she felt well enough, he said, ‘He’ll want to keep an eye on you, but I’m sure it’s nothing you should be worried about, Mrs Barrington.’

  The following morning, with still no word from Douglas, Arthur Leighton arrived at the house. Evie had got into the habit of rising to join Jasmine for breakfast, before returning to her bed, unable to face the world. That morning, she was still sitting in the dining room, clad in her dressing gown, her hair uncombed, breakfast untouched, when Arthur was shown in by a frowning Aunty Mimi.

  Evie looked up and saw his face was drawn and his eyes full of concern. She stood up. He moved across to her and she realised he intended to embrace her. Backing away, she said, ‘Did he send you here?’

  Arthur nodded.

  ‘Too cowardly to do his own dirty work. He’s spineless.’

  ‘He wants to talk to you.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to him.’ She slumped back into her chair, and pushed her teacup out of the way. ‘Did you know? Oh, God, why am I even asking that? Of course you knew. You’re his best friend.’

  Arthur shook his head, his face stricken. ‘I didn’t know, Evie. I promise you I’d no idea. Doug is a very closed person. He tells me very little and certainly didn’t tell me that. He found it hard enough to tell me when he turned up at my office last night.’

  ‘Why don’t I believe you, Arthur? Why can’t I believe anything you or anyone else in this godforsaken country tell me?’

  He pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down. ‘Because I care about you, Evie. I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear right now. But I hate to think of the pain you must be going through.’ He paused. ‘Because I love you.’

  Evie snorted. ‘Stop! I don’t want to hear that. My husband is disporting himself with a Malayan whore while I’m carrying his child. No, Arthur, your declarations of love are the last thing I want to hear.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it that way, Evie. We both know you and I can never have what I’d like us to have, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter to me more than anyone or anything in this world.’

  Slumping forward, she rested her head on her hands. ‘Go away, Arthur. I can’t even cry any more. I have no tears left. Everything is ruined. I was trying so hard to make a life with him. I thought at last we were a family. And he’s destroyed it all.’

  Arthur said nothing but placed a hand on her arm. She found the contact strangely comforting and began to cry.

  ‘I may be going to lose the baby,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Last night I lost some blood. Aunty Mimi called out the doctor.’

  ‘What did he say?’ He frowned with concern.

  ‘Bed rest. Wait and see. He said bleeding doesn’t always mean the worst. If I can get through the next few days I’ll be past the first twelve weeks and that’s meant to be the most dangerous time for miscarrying.’ She lifted her eyes to look at him. ‘Part of me wants to lose the baby. To punish Doug. It’s all he cares about. I’m just a vessel to carry his child, like a hermit crab. I’m not a proper person in my own right.’ She rubbed at her eyes.

  Arthur handed her an unused napkin.

  Through her tears she said, ‘Why am I saying this? I don’t really want to lose the baby! I don’t. Even if it has to grow up without a father. I couldn’t bear to lose it. I just don’t want him near it. He’s an unfit father. A lying, cheating, faithless man.’

  ‘Look, Evie, it’s because of the baby and Jasmine that you must let him talk to you. He wants to explain. He’s a mess. Distraught. Please, give him a chance. Just listen to him. I’m saying all this because I care about you. Because I want the best for you. And the best thing is that you and he manage to patch things up and look for a way forward.’

  ‘You mean him, me and his Malayan whore?’

  ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘Gone? Where? Back to her kampung down the road where he can visit her when he pleases? I don’t want to know about his sordid arrangements. I don’t want to hear his feeble excuses. He’s a liar.’ She dragged the napkin over her eyes then flung it down on the table. ‘Why the hell didn’t he marry that girl in the first place and have lots of little half-breed children instead of dragging me across the world?’ Turning to look at Arthur, she added, ‘No, don’t bother to answer that. It’s not the done thing, is it? All right for the Dutch or the French to marry local girls but the British frown on it, don’t they? What’s the expression? Infra dig, that’s it, isn’t it? No, they wouldn’t like it at the Penang Club, would they? They wouldn’t approve of that at all.’

  Arthur said nothing, but put his hand back on her arm.

  ‘I wish to God I’d never agreed to marry him. If I’d stayed in Hampshire I’d have had a quiet uneventful life, but at least it wouldn’t have been one of utter misery. I’ve put everything into this fragile chance of happiness. I’ve worked hard trying to make this mise
rable marriage work.’

  She glanced at him quickly, before looking away. ‘Even though, ever since that day at the beach, I knew I couldn’t love him, because of loving you. But I put you out of my thoughts and I tried so hard, so incredibly hard, to be the best possible wife to Douglas. I refused to let his moods get me down. I put a brave face on when he used my body but showed me not an ounce of affection. I took an interest in his damned rubber business. I cared for his daughter. Not once did I complain about his absences. I tried every minute of every day to love him and hoped and prayed that he might come to love me.’

  Arthur waited patiently, his face anguished, saying nothing, until eventually Evie spoke again.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Waiting outside in his car.’

  She slumped forward. After a few moments she sat upright. ‘Very well. Let’s get it over with.’

  Arthur left, and shortly after, Douglas came into the dining room. He moved around the table and sat on the other side facing Evie. He looked haggard. There was a couple of days worth of stubble on his face, his hair was unkempt and there were dark rings under his eyes. He seemed to have lost weight and his face was gaunt and pallid despite his sun-tanned skin. Evie waited for him to speak.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have had to walk in on … that.’

  ‘So if I hadn’t seen you, it would be fine? As long as I didn’t know about your dirty little love nest? As long as I hadn’t interrupted what you were up to? If I had sent you a telegram to warn you that I was coming to visit you could have hidden her away and it would have been all right, would it?’

  ‘When you walked in I’d just told her she couldn’t stay any longer. That we were finished.’

  Evie snorted. ‘Yes, it looked like it. A perfectly normal way to end a relationship – make love all day long then, while she’s giving you a massage, tell her to pack her bags.’