by Clare Flynn
It was ironic that just as Douglas had admitted that he cared for her, Evie had no longer been sure she could ever feel anything for him again. The damage was too deep, the hurt too severe. And she didn’t want to admit it, but she knew that despite there being no possibility of ever being with Arthur Leighton, it was proving extremely difficult to stop herself wanting him and loving him. But stop she must. Douglas, Jasmine and the unborn baby were her life. She had to gather up the broken pieces of marriage and family and stitch them back together again. And if that meant stitching her self-respect back together that’s where she’d start.
21
The only person Evie told about her strange encounter with the Taoist monk was Mary Helston.
‘There’s a lot of wisdom among the Chinese,’ Mary said, ‘if only we listened to it. We British are all too quick to assume that we have all the answers and that other races and cultures are decidedly second-best with nothing to offer us.’
‘Are you religious, Mary?’
Mary thought for a moment. ‘I go to church. I believe in God. But I received little comfort from the vicar when Ralph died. I suppose I go more out of duty, and because it’s expected. But I feel closer to God when I enter a church outside of the services and just sit down and pray in silence. Or even don’t pray at all.’ She smiled. ‘To tell the truth, Evie, I find being somewhere like Penang Hill or walking along the beach I can just as easily talk to God. He doesn’t discriminate where He goes.’
‘That’s exactly what my monk said. He told me the gods are everywhere and you need to listen for them. I felt close to God talking to that monk. He was so quiet and gentle and … well, good I suppose. He seemed to think that we don’t need special buildings to find God. Better to look inside one’s heart and in nature.’
Mary tilted her head to one side, considering Evie’s words, then said, ‘I find those temples too fancy with their painted statues and choking incense. And if they genuinely believe God is present in the natural world why go to the trouble of building all those gaudy temples?’
Evie felt rebuffed, afraid that Mary must think her silly. ‘Well, you could say the same about building churches.’
‘I do.’ But her friend squeezed her hand. ‘Anyway I’m glad this monk has revived your spirits and made you feel more positive.’
‘Do you think he’s right about needing to show forgiveness and understanding to Doug? You were there at Batu Lembah. You saw that woman.’
Mary stretched her legs out in front of her. They were sitting on a fallen log on the shore, under the casuarina trees. Further along the beach Jasmine and her friend Penny were racing each other between two rocks. Mary tilted her head in the direction of the girls. ‘I know nothing about marriage, but I’m going to ask you a question. Why do you think Penny spends so much time with me?’
Evie felt a rush of guilt. It had never occurred to her to ask. She had been grateful never to have had to have anything to do with Penny’s mother, Rowena, one of the members of Veronica’s ‘witches’ coven’. ‘I suppose I imagined her mother was always busy,’ she said, lamely.
‘If you call being passed out in bed drunk or dosed-up with pills busy, then yes, she’s often busy.’
‘Gosh. That’s dreadful. Poor Penny.’
‘And when she’s not out cold, Rowena’s at it hammer and tongs with her husband. We can hear them through the walls, screaming at each other night after night.’
Evie put her hands up to her mouth, shocked. ‘Why?’
Mary shrugged. ‘They just don’t get along. In fact they can’t stand the sight of each other. Not helped by the fact that Rowena found out Bertie had been having an affair with one of the taxi girls at the Eastern & Oriental Hotel.’
‘Taxi girls?’
‘Professional dance hostesses. Men pay the E&O for a ticket to dance with them and the girls get half the proceeds. While most of them are perfectly respectable, some of them are rather too willing to do more than dance.’
‘And he got caught out?’
‘He did indeed. Red-handed. Rowena plays bridge most afternoons. Bertie Cameron is the director of one of the shipping companies, so, as the tuan, he can come and go from his office as he pleases. One afternoon, Rowena was feeling unwell during her bridge game. So she ducked out after a couple of rubbers and went home to lie down. She walked in on them in bed.’
‘How horrible!’
‘Yes. Rowena’s been exacting her revenge ever since. The atmosphere between them is poisonous. That poor child is caught in the middle.’ Mary sighed. ‘Don’t be like Rowena, Evie. Try and find a way to forgive and forget, for Jasmine’s sake and your baby’s.’ She studied Evie’s face, her eyes anxious. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m a terrible gossip? Only, since Rowena would win all the prizes for that herself, I feel somewhat justified.’
‘You see their problems as Rowena’s making?’
‘No. Definitely not. They’re both as bad as each other. He’s not shown an ounce of remorse. In fact it’s as if he resents her for finding him out. I suppose he thinks she should have been a dutiful little mem and pretended she’d seen nothing. No, I can’t blame her for raising the roof. But I blame them both for doing nothing to heal the wounds afterwards and making that poor child suffer as a consequence.’
Mary gave another sigh, an anguished expression on her face. ‘Look Evie, I’ve been agonising about whether to tell you this but I’ve decided I’m going to. I overheard Penny talking to Jasmine. She seems to think that her parents are so caught up in bickering with each other and have no time for her, and that’s proof that they don’t love her.’ Mary paused. ‘Jasmine told her that she thinks you and her father are going to be like that too. I hate to let you know this, but Jasmine believes it’s her fault that you and Mr Barrington have fallen out. She traces it back to her having to use the toilet on the way back from Taiping. I know it’s wrong but it’s her childish logic. When I heard her I didn’t think it would be right for me to intervene. Maybe you need to find a way to straighten her out. It’s not up to me. But if you follow that monk’s advice and start building bridges with your husband she won’t need to be straightened out, will she?’
Evie stared at her, stricken. ‘Jasmine blames herself?’
‘Children often get the wrong end of the stick.’ Mary looked at her sadly. ‘I’m going to pass on one piece of advice. My Granny once told me that the secret to a happy marriage was to think of love as a verb and not as a noun. It’s something you do and you show; not a state you’re in.’
‘I think your Granny would have got on well with my monk!’
‘Very probably.’ Mary got to her feet. ‘If I could change one thing in my life it would be to have buried my pride and tried to forgive Ralph. Once he was dead, pride and indignation and hurt feelings meant nothing. Come on, we’d better get those girls back for their tea. Mum has been baking queen cakes.’
That night, after Jasmine was in bed, Evie put on the pearl ring her husband had given her at Christmas. Downstairs, she sat down at the ornate lacquered desk in the study, took a sheet of paper and wrote a brief letter to her husband, telling him he could come home at the weekend. She decided against stating the terms for his return and the change in the allocation of bedrooms. That could be left until he was here and she could deal with it face-to-face.
The following morning, she was about to tell Jasmine that her daddy would be coming home for the weekend, but decided not to chance it. If Doug failed to turn up, the little girl would be devastated.
But he did turn up. Not only that, he arrived that evening instead of waiting until Saturday as she had expected and as was his usual custom. He had made more of an effort with his appearance than his previous visit. No sign of the unkempt hair. No stubble on his shaved chin. He was wearing an open-necked, well-pressed shirt, a pair of pale linen trousers in place of his habitual shorts, and his hair was neat and looked freshly washed. But there was a look of unease around his eyes and he appeared nervous
.
‘You got my letter? I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.’
Douglas looked surprised. ‘What letter?’
‘I wrote to say you could come home this weekend.’
He moved across the room, relief washing over his features. ‘You did? The post is often slow at Batu Lembah. Thank you, Evie. Thank you.’ He went towards the drinks cabinet. ‘This calls for a celebration.’
Something inside told her not to make things too easy for him. Forgiving him didn’t absolve him from the original crime.
‘Sit down first. You can listen to me before you have a drink in your hand.’
Douglas looked abashed, but complied, taking a seat opposite her.
Evie spoke first. ’I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since we talked. And for the sake of the baby and for Jasmine, I’ve come to the conclusion that we have to try and repair the damage.’
He started to speak but she lifted a hand to stay him. ‘Look, Doug, you’ve had your chance to talk. Now it’s time you hear me.’
He nodded, leaning back in the chair, his eyes fixed on her.
’Damage is the right word,’ she said. ‘You need to acknowledge that you have damaged me and cut me to the quick. But not only me. You need to accept responsibility for what your daughter saw that afternoon. Jasmine believes that my tears and my sadness are her fault. She’s blaming herself for causing us to go to the estate that afternoon. I don’t think she understood what was happening but she knew there was something wrong. I’ve tried to hide my feelings from her but she senses when things aren’t right. Her confidence and security have been shattered so you and I have to make things right for her.’ She placed one hand over the other, covering the pearl ring on her finger.
Douglas was frowning, his mouth drawn into a tight line. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
Resisting the urge to comfort him, Evie went on. ‘Her best friend Penny is the Camerons’ daughter so she knows what having warring parents means. That’s the reason why I’m agreeing to take you back and to do what I can to repair our marriage.’
Doug moved off the chair and came to sit beside her, reaching for her hands. ‘I’ve made a hash of things, Evie. I wish I could wind the clock back, but I promise you, it will be different from now on. You won’t regret it.’
She drew her hands away from him. It would be all too easy to let things ride but it was important she seized the moment and didn’t completely capitulate. ‘If you think I will fall gratefully into your arms and forget everything that’s happened, you’re wrong. Yes, I want to forget. I want to be a wife to you again. I want us to be a family. But you have come so close to destroying everything and I’m going to need time for the wounds to heal. If I’m to forget the past we have to start to create a future, and I need you to help make that happen.’
‘I promise you, Evie. I’ll do whatever it takes.’
He reached for her hands again. She was about to move them away but she remembered the words of the monk and this time let him take them.
‘I’ve moved your things out of the small bedroom. We’ll need that for the baby once it’s old enough to sleep in there. Your things are in the room next door.’
His face lit up.
‘I won’t be.’
His face fell.
‘Aunty Mimi has cleared out the main bedroom and I’ve moved into it. The cradle can go in there with me for the baby’s first few months. Until it’s old enough to sleep in a cot in its own room.’
‘You’re all right? And the baby’s all right?’
‘Yes. At least, according to the doctor.’
‘Thank God!’
‘But I will be sleeping alone. At least for the moment.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you? I’m not sure you do.’ Evie got up and opened the shuttered French door to the garden, letting the clamour of the cicadas and the cockerels, as well as the softest of breezes, into the room. She turned back to look at him. ‘You destroyed my trust. I promise you I will work hard to find a way to forgive you for that. But please don’t expect that it’s going to happen overnight.’
He looked at her with an expression that mingled sorrow with what might even have been admiration. ‘You’re wearing the ring again. Thank you.’
‘I’m going to turn in, Doug. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
As she left the room, Evie thought she’d handled the situation well. Yes, Evie, she told herself, the road to loving him must start with loving yourself. And that means taking pride in your own strength and tenacity. She made her way slowly up the staircase.
22
As her pregnancy progressed, Evie realised exactly what Susan Hyde-Underwood had meant about the discomforts of expecting a baby in the heat and humidity of Malaya. Growing in bulk she felt lopsided, the increasing heaviness of the baby cumbersome and awkward in front and causing backache. Perspiration gathered between and under her enlarged breasts and chafed at her skin. She longed for the child to be delivered so that she could reclaim her body.
The only relief was in swimming – a blessed opportunity to cool down, the weight of her belly supported by the buoyancy of the water. According to the doctor, swimming would also help strengthen her back. Going regularly to the Penang Swimming Club in the mornings, she was unlikely to run into Arthur Leighton at that time of day, when he would be occupied in his office or out travelling. Evie was still careful to avoid finding herself alone with him.
It would have been over-generous to claim that things were harmonious between her and Douglas. He did seem to be making a greater effort, but there were still times when his impatience flared. In line with their agreement, he returned to George Town every Friday evening and remained until the early hours of Monday morning. Much of the time though, he was closeted in his study, working on papers at his desk. He had also begun to play tennis again regularly – mostly with Arthur.
At Evie’s urging, Doug was starting to spend more time with Jasmine, occasionally coaching her at tennis, and joining them both on Sunday afternoon trips to the Penang Swimming Club. He had also helped his daughter to finish their joint construction project and the completed Bayko house had a permanent place in Jasmine’s bedroom.
Jasmine was thriving. She and Penny had joined the Brownies and were happily involved in the weekly meetings, as well as working towards their activity badges. Since one of these was basic first aid, both Evie and Douglas were frequently subjected to their arms being bandaged-up in slings and having imaginary wounds treated.
So, on the surface, all was well in the Barrington household, but Evie had to constantly remind herself of what the monk had said, particularly about Yin and Yang. Douglas and she definitely embodied marked differences in temperament and interests, so it was a continual struggle for her to attempt to understand him and embrace those differences. Trying to become close to a man who was intensely private, afraid to express his emotions, and whose greatest passion in life was growing rubber, was proving a challenge. Evie was all too aware that her husband was often impatient with her, irritated by her questions and her desire for conversation. She kept telling herself it was impossible to expect that a man of few words would be capable of changing into one who shared her interests and was ready to talk about them.
On the long silent evenings when, after Jasmine was tucked up in bed, Evie sat in the drawing room with her husband, she mostly read a book, while he rustled his way through the Straits Times, smoked his pipe and drank whisky. It was at times like these, alone with Douglas in a silence broken only by the sound of a ticking clock, that Evie couldn’t help her thoughts straying to Arthur Leighton, imagining how different it would be if it were him sitting opposite her. With Arthur the time flew by, without her noticing. They never lacked topics for conversation, each interested in what the other had to say. Arthur didn’t have the repressed emotions of Doug – in fact Evie suspected Arthur had a constant battle to keep a lid on them. She forced her attention back to the ro
om, to her husband, to the father of her unborn child. Instead of wasting time on what might have been, she must focus all her energy on building a future with Doug.
They rarely went out. Neither of them enjoyed the mindless pursuit of pleasure by the Europeans in Penang. It jarred with Evie that while, back in England, people were coping with the blackout and rationing, here there were plentiful supplies of food and drink and a constant round of parties. It seemed sybaritic and selfish when there was a war on.
Occasionally they entertained at home, Douglas needing to talk business with dealers, inspectors and other estate owners, more conducive over a good dinner. Once or twice, when one of their guests was a single man or visiting Penang without his wife, she invited Mary Helston to make up the numbers. But it was apparent that Mary came because she didn’t like to refuse, and clearly felt uncomfortable if there was any possibility the man might see her as fair game, or if she suspected Evie of trying to matchmake. Evie was sad that Mary was alone, but her friend assured her that she was perfectly happy with her unmarried state, living with her parents.
Evie managed to avoid inviting the Leightons to these dinners unless Doug absolutely insisted on their presence. The hostilities between her and Veronica had not abated. But she couldn’t keep putting her husband off when he enjoyed Arthur’s company. And were she wholly honest with herself, she did too. With Arthur at the table, she was guaranteed an interesting evening, although whenever he left, Evie felt deflated, bereft, and wishing that it were he who shared her life.
