Father's study was a totally male domain. Despite the bright daylight that heralded the beginning of a new day with sunlight streaming in through the French windows, the room appeared dark and sombre.
The desk (I was told) was a magnificent seventeenth-century example with a matching, leather-covered chair and occupied one whole wall of the room. Positioned around the room, there were two more chairs of similar age. The room was bathed with a subdued light due to the blinds over the window. Upon the walls, Father had hung his favourite collection of hunting prints, together with a Turner or two. Mother said horses and seascapes were the provenance of men. The air was redolent with cigar tobacco, and upon the bookcase opposite the window, a chased silver tray displayed two decanters of single malt and cognac.
The room scared me, probably because I hated these early morning sessions and I longed to escape into the fresh air and sunlight, riding Cobweb and chasing my sisters through the rubber groves. I ambled towards the French windows and gazed across the balcony down onto the lawn. I hoped he wouldn't keep me here too long. Recently, Father had been prone to long silences whenever the family had been together. His mind was certainly on other matters which had nothing to do with us. Whatever it was, he was even more abrupt with everyone from the lowliest of kitchen servants up to Mother.
My thoughts were interrupted as Father spoke, and as I turned away from the window, I caught sight of Hermione on the balcony. She must have come from the room next door which was a small reading room and hardly ever used. Our eyes met, and she gave me a smile of sympathy. What did she know?
"Starting today, Paul Tan is now going to take over as your instructor and mentor," Father said, raising his coffee cup to his mouth and pausing. I guessed it was because I looked surprised.
"He has some new ideas he wants to try for the plantation. Paul claims he can increase the rubber yield per tree by as much as six per cent. You," he said, pointing a finger at me, "will learn the trade inside out a lot quicker from a younger man. Listen, watch and learn, and learn well. For far too long you've been hanging around your mother's skirts. You spend too much time with those women. I don't consider it healthy or natural. Do you understand?"
"But Father--"
Father frowned at my interruption, a dark look crossing his face. I instantly regretted my interruption. I was in trouble now. There was a knock and I know I let out a tiny sigh in relief. Father directed his attention towards the solid door. "Come!"
Paul Tan stepped inside, a smile upon his handsome face as he addressed his employer. "Good morning, Sir Winston."
"Morning Paul. Good to see you're on time. I've been briefing young Alex here. Now it's over to you. I believe you'll make an admirable tutor."
"Tuan." Giving a small half bow to Father, he turned his attention to me where I stood half gaping with shock. I felt myself flushing in embarrassment like some silly girl. How was I going to spend so many hours in his company, knowing he almost certainly despised me because of my age and insignificance?
I opened my mouth and immediately shut it. Nothing was to be gained by saying something stupid and puerile. I was thirteen and a Chalcot. I gave him what I thought was a winning, friendly smile. If I had to learn from him then we had best be friends. Paul returned my smile, gave me a similar bow to that he had given my father and said, "Shall we begin then, young Alex?"
On leaving the room, I swear my skinny brown knees knocked together, his half mocking voice ringing in my ears. This was going to be purgatory.
Chapter 11
Paul was a good tutor. He possessed an almost uncanny understanding and depth of knowledge about the trees and earth of the plantation. Despite my earlier misgivings, I learned to relax in his company and I believe, he in mine. I heeded Father's words and listened and learned well. If we were not exactly friends, I knew by my close attention to his lectures, I had at least earned his respect. In fact, after a few weeks, I realised I actually enjoyed our mornings together, and as time moved on, I looked forward to his company more than that of my sisters. For ever since I could remember, I had always had the feeling I wasn't complete. I dearly wanted a proper friendship and perhaps this was the beginning of one between Paul and me.
Of course my sisters and I still did things together as siblings do. We rode out most days, often taking a picnic hamper packed with goodies from Yunging in the kitchen. One of our favourite rides was to visit a rock pool full of crystal-clear water fed from a small, fast-flowing river. It was strange finding such a source of water on our land, as most rivers hereabouts were muddy, but we considered our rock pool with its fifteen-foot-high waterfall very special. We had always planned to follow the river upstream, but had never got very far, as the banks were too thick with natural vegetation, and I particularly feared the venomous snakes that frequented the water course. Felicity and Emma were nervous of the ferocious Malayan tigers that roamed further afield, neither wanting to end up as an easy meal ticket. So despite our talk, we remained near the pool and enjoyed many lazy hours there.
The pool was deep and surrounded by wide, flat diorite rocks that must have been millions of years old and were perfect for lying on and drying off in the sunshine. At certain times of the year, the air above and around the pool was full of multi-coloured butterflies. It was a place of beauty and possessed an almost holy aura.
Emma and Felicity loved to dive and swim in the icy-cold water, their cries echoing from the surrounding rocks. Not being a strong swimmer and fearful of bringing on an attack of my hated asthma, I preferred to watch from the bank or above on the waterfall. I considered the waterfall my own. The river's current was swift, as it flowed down from the colonial hill resort of Fraser's Hill which was about four and a half thousand feet high. The water rushed at the edge of the cliff and then plunged down the fifteen-foot drop, bouncing off rocks in its way. My sisters rarely ventured onto the fall, afraid of slipping in the current and toppling over the edge, but I had found a way to walk right across the river in safety. Before the fall, there was a tiny path of strategically placed footholds which, if I was careful, I could use. As neither Emma nor Felicity was interested, I had never shown them where to place their feet, and the path was therefore my own secret.
These days were some of the best of my life so far.
"It's such a shame you don't enjoy swimming, Alex," Emma said while clambering from the pool. "Are you sure you won't go in? It's so deliciously cool after the heat."
"Very sure, thanks. Mother said not to. I had a minor asthma attack late last night. I don't want to worry her."
"Yes but--"
"Leave it alone, Emma. You know Mother. She would panic if she knew Alex was contemplating swimming after an attack. It's better that we all three return safe and well."
Felicity was sitting beside me on the rocks, wringing water from her blonde hair. She looked enchanting in the late afternoon sunshine, a perfect example of a healthy young woman. No wonder she had such a following of beaux at the tennis and golf clubs; and yet, I always had a niggle of doubt concerning Felicity. She drew all these admirers, but I got the impression she couldn't really care less for any of them. The most ardent was the dark, olive-skinned Russell from York. He was wealthy and a successful businessman running an import and export agency. Felicity would never have to lift a finger if she married him.
Close on Russell's heels were the twins, Rupert and Oliver. They nominally ran their Father's tea plantation up near Fraser's Hill about fifty miles away, but they were so often in KL, I couldn't see much 'running' of the plantation at all. I dismissed the rest of the pack. They were further down the suitor list, and she rarely mentioned any of them except in passing. I had the strange feeling that when Fizzy did marry, she would surprise us all.
Emma, on the other hand, exposed her heart for all to see. Despite Fizzy's earlier warning about Paul Tan, Em was clearly besotted with him. I didn't know how far she had taken her crush with Paul, but knowing Emma, I felt sure she would not let a mere case
of a difference in upbringing or race get in her way. The biggest obstacle, as far as she was concerned, was eliminating any opposition. She had pushed the idea of Paul with a girlfriend in the village kampong to one side, refusing to believe it. I foresaw trouble ahead.
"That was a big sigh, Alex," Fizzy said, with a smile in my direction. "Is Father still nagging you?"
I rolled over onto my stomach, hand cupping my chin. "No. Since Paul has been taking me around with him, I see much less of Father now, thank goodness."
She laughed. "Father does pick on you, I wonder why. It must be because you are his one and only hope. Em and I are only worthless females and Mother is hardly likely to produce any more babies now." She and Em exchanged a glance that I didn't understand.
I looked away, not liking where the conversation was going. Father had such a warped, old-fashioned way of thinking, and Mother’s views were slightly odd. Their relationship was severely strained, and I knew somehow Hermione was the problem. Since Mother's return to Malaysia, she had done her utmost to keep Father from her bed. Eavesdropping again, I had heard them talking about it when they thought I wasn't listening, or maybe they thought I didn't understand. As if a thirteen-year-old wouldn't listen to gossip! Sometimes being small and insignificant had its advantages, I had discovered.
Hermione was determined Mother would not have another baby which could endanger her health. She and Doctor Kilbraithe were completely against it and in agreement over this. My birth, apparently, was a miracle. I should never have survived. Doctor Kilbraithe had given Winston his opinion that Mother was not to become pregnant again.
Changing the subject, I began burbling about Paul Tan and how clever he was.
"Did you know Paul is actually Chinese-Malay? His father is Chinese and met Paul's mother when he arrived in Jahore. Apparently, he came from Sumatra in Indonesia."
Emma and Felicity looked surprised.
"No I never knew that, but then why should we? Paul is just an employee." Felicity said.
Emma shot her a look. "Has Paul been to Indonesia? Has he family there? He's never mentioned it." She looked a bit put out, probably because I was divulging something about her hero heart-throb she obviously knew nothing about.
I'm sure I smirked because of my superior knowledge over my older sisters. "I don't know for sure about his family. He said he wanted to visit Indonesia though." I felt proud that Paul had confided in me and no one else.
"Indonesia is a bit of a hot-bed at the moment. President Sukarno is stirring up the Malays who live over there, so Father says." Fizzy lowered her voice to a whisper. "There may be more trouble here too. There have already been some skirmishes on other plantations further south. Rumour has it a small band of guerrillas landed near Jahore and shot a lot of villagers who disagreed with their politics." She gave a shudder. "Imagine fighting and killing here at Kebun Pertama."
"Huh. I don't see how that would affect us," Emma said, tossing her head and looking bored now the conversation was turning away from Paul. "It's miles away."
"Well it might. Our Tunku is all for a federated Malaysia and yet still keeping one foot in with good old Great Britain. Maybe he retains a soft spot for England after studying law at Cambridge. Malaysia may not be a colony any more but, she is a member of the Commonwealth."
I was intrigued. Being much younger than them, my political knowledge was pretty dismal. "But what could happen?"
Fizzy gave me a stare which could only have come from an older and wiser sister. "Well, it's said at the Selangor Club that the Royal Malayan Air Force is having quite a hard time in Borneo. They're flying troops over for combat use in the jungle against President Sukarno's 'bully boys'."
"But why?" I persisted. "I don't understand."
Fizzy have a sigh. "You really should pay more attention to the news, Alex. Right, listen then."
I nodded, my interest piquing.
"Briefly as, knowing you, you'll only take in half of what I tell you, the background is this. When Malaysia was formed from the old country of Malaya, it created a set-back to Sukarno's dangerous dream of a mighty Indonesian empire. Sukarno is the ruler of over one hundred million people whose land stretches over three thousand miles in a vast crescent encircling the Malay Peninsula, Singapore, Sarawak and Sabah in North Borneo. Sukarno's ambition has long been to have all these territories under his domination.
"Since when?" I began.
"It began years back, just after the war I believe. Sukarno thought by uniting Malaya and Indonesia, he would control a huge powerful empire. As a clever dictator, he can easily rally public opinion with his flamboyant speeches. He really is a master at getting the people behind him. Anyway, our Tunku liked the idea of Malaysia, and the British government saw it as good solution to end their colonial responsibilities in south-east Asia. She would give them independence. Everyone agreed to the plan.
"But Sukarno's dream was turning to dust. If Indonesia Raya was to come true, he had to control Malaysia. In 1962 there was a flare-up between Indonesia and the Dutch. Mass rallies were held in Singapore and Indonesian officials whipped up support amongst Malays of Indonesian origin. Sukarno trained some in political indoctrination, and they were used as recruits for a sort of Indonesian fifth column."
"What's a fifth column?" I asked.
"A secret body of people. In this case they wanted to overthrow the Malaysian government and replace it with a pro-Indonesian one."
"Is this happening now?"
Fizzy hesitated, as if remembering I was still a child. "Yes, as I said earlier, they infiltrate up and down the country in small units, creating disturbance among the locals. You're too young to remember the Mau Mau Uprising in Kenya, but that was very bloody and terrifying at the time."
At this point, Emma joined in my education. "The fifth column members are sworn to secrecy and they sign their names in a 'Book of Blood'," she said with a gleam in her eye. "They sail across the Straits in small boats."
I shuddered. Always hating violence of any kind, the thought of armed men on our shores filled me with dread. We could be murdered in our own beds!
Fizzy carried on with her impromptu lecture. "Sukarno, as an anti-colonial leader of Malays, is very very dangerous. I read the other day he is determined to 'kill the Malayan Tiger and drive off The British Lion'. Phew! I think I did very well remembering all that and me not being remotely interested in politics either." She glanced at her wrist watch lying next to her.
"My goodness, look at the time! Mother will panic if we're back late. Emma, have you dried off? Get dressed quickly."
~~~~~
Returning home, the horses were frisky after their long rest at the pool. Felicity's mount was more than usually active, half-bucking and shying at banana fronds which twanged back at him from Emma's leading horse.
"They never behave like this normally. Emma, have a care, you might have warned me about that." I managed to retrieve Fizzy's hat that had become dislodged and handed it back to her.
We continued back along the track, the thick red dust rising in little spools from beneath the horses' trotting hooves. Either side, tall grasses rose creating an avenue-like effect and screening us from the secondary jungle threatening to encroach and reclaim the sandy path for its own.
"Let's canter. If we give them their heads for a bit, they'll calm down," Emma said, drawing up her reins and giving her horse a sharp dig with her heels. Needing no excuse to get home to a sack of fresh oaks and a roll in the hay, her mount responded with alacrity and took off with a flash of metal.
Felicity's horse was a fraction behind and was soon chasing Emma's grey's streaming tail. My little Cobweb was a lot slower on the uptake and besides, I was in no hurry to get home. I was enjoying the freedom after my day's work in the rubber shed and schoolroom. Sometimes I felt that the whole of my day was spent running from one lesson to the next.
I was learning the business quickly though and enjoyed being treated more like an adult. However, I found school
work both irksome and time consuming, and if I had been given a choice, I would have ditched most of the subjects and concentrated on running the plantation with a few favourite school subjects alongside. I suppose like most teenagers I was idle and looking for excuses.
Breaking into a faster trot, Cobweb obviously decided that perhaps his loose box was a good idea. Things were going well until a thin-black snake ran across the path causing him to shy towards the grasses on our left. Catching his shoulder on a half-hidden tree stump, he rebounded with a start back onto the track and unawares, I went flying from the saddle. I landed with a thump, winded and unable to move. My vision cleared, and I managed to gulp in some air and found tears running down my cheeks. Still dizzy from lack of oxygen, I managed to stagger to my feet, wiping snot and dirt from my face onto my shirt front.
Cobweb was standing a few feet away, rolling the whites of his eyes with fear and his sides heaving. He was a scared little pony, and I softly called his name not wanting to frighten him further. Whether I spooked him again or he was still in shock, I don't know, but the silly thing moved away, the reins dangling dangerously around his front legs and one stirrup hanging from a torn leather strap.
"Blast you, Cobweb, stand still. Come back!" I yelled, cross, dirty, fed-up and aching from my fall. I knew what Father would say when we arrived home.
I stumbled along feeling very sorry for myself, blaming Emma for my plight and didn't notice Paul standing holding Cobweb's halter until I had rounded the next bend in the path.
"Young Alex in trouble again. This belongs to you, I believe," he said. I couldn't help noticing the mocking tone to his voice.
I drew level, relieved, hot and bothered and annoyed all at once. His eyes held mine, and from 'the look' in them, I knew he was planning to make fun of me. I lost my temper.
"Before you say anything Paul, this wasn't my fault! A snake startled Cobweb and he bolted. I don't want to say any more about it, but don't you dare make fun of me." I was shaking, from my anger and from the fall.
2 Children of the Plantation Page 7
