Chapter 15
Hardly believing what had happened the night before, Emma snuggled down under her bed sheet to let her mind wander over the past events. She didn't want to get up and meet the rest of her family just yet. Last night had been so wonderful, and she was savouring every moment of it.
How perfectly thrilling! She had lost her virginity to the first real man she had fallen in love with. That she was in love, she never doubted for one moment. This was how it was meant to be. She had read all the Mills and Boon novels, romantic bodice-ripping stories where the heroine was always the middle child and who was slightly different than her siblings. How she was the one often in trouble with her wayward ideas and possessing looks and talents not as fine or obvious as those of her elder sister. Emma now had something to boast about to Felicity; Alex didn't count, him being too young. She was the one who had lost her virginity first. She was the first to find her soul mate. Emma was sure Fizzy was still a virgin despite all her worldliness. She was far too fussy and picky, and Emma was convinced, because of this, she had yet to go to bed with a man.
Lying in bed that morning, Emma brushed a hand against her inner thighs. He had touched her there. Caressed and kissed her. She flushed at the sweet memory. She felt a slight soreness and was bruised where Paul had pushed her against the table as he made love to her. It was minor and had left no visible marks. Surely, now they had made love, he would endeavour to meet her more regularly? And where would it lead? Emma was positive mixed marriages did take place, and being a modern young woman, she would say 'yes' at the first chance. Perhaps, given time, she would talk her family round into accepting Paul as her fiancé. She giggled to herself under the sheet and failed to hear a knock as Felicity entered her room.
"Emma, what are you doing lying there under the sheet? You must be mad, it's scorching hot already and we're supposed to be seeing Siti's sister for our dress fitting at nine this morning."
Startled, Emma threw back the sheet and stared at her immaculately made-up elder sister. For a moment, she was reminded of how much she looked and acted like their mother. "Fizzy, I didn't hear you come in."
"Evidently not. Come on get up. Look at this room. It's a disgrace, clothes everywhere. You really are a little slut at times."
Definitely like Mother, Emma decided.
Felicity carried on. Picking up a dress and bra she threw them onto the rumpled bed. "By the way, where did you get to last night? I was back from town early, as the dinner was as boring as the company. I looked in on you but your bed was empty. I was tired so I didn't bother to search."
Emma was, for once in her life, lost for words. Damn! She thought nobody would miss her, and definitely no one would have come looking for her. Of all the luck it had to be last night, and it just had to be Felicity. Bother! What should she say?
"Em, I do believe you're blushing! What have you done? What have you been up to now? You really are a little nuisance sometimes," Felicity demanded with more than a hint of crossness in her voice and sat down on her bed. "I'm waiting."
Emma couldn't keep a secret for long. She had always been open with everyone; despite their differences they were close, and she cared a lot for her sister. Because of this, she felt sure she could trust her.
"Oh Fizzy, you'll never guess."
"Guess what? Uh-oh. Do I really want to hear this?"
"Paul and me. We're in love."
"Don't be silly, he's a grown man and you're only a young girl. He would never look at you seriously, you're far too young."
"That is where you're so wrong. Oh Fizzy, it was wonderful." She leant back on her pillows, her eyes wide, her face one big smile.
Felicity sat very still, her face a frozen mask as she gazed at her sister. She looked so very young and vulnerable, hair spilling all around her on the pillow. In a tight controlled voice, she asked, "What was wonderful, Emma?"
"Last night. He was, it was, oh, just about everything!" She threw her arms open expansively and with great drama.
Felicity stared at her younger sister, a feeling of dread creeping over her face. "Emma, what exactly happened? What did you do?"
"It! We did it! And it was simply divine, much better than you read in books, I never imagined…" Her voice trailed away as she looked at Felicity.
The colour drained from Felicity's face as she sat shock-still at Emma's words. Finding her voice, she spoke in a whisper, "Emma you didn't."
Emma nodded smiling. "We did and what's more we're going to do it again and again and again."
"Oh no you're not my girl!" She reached over and gave her a slap on the face. Emma gave a gasp, clasping her hand to the livid mark upon her cheek. "You are not seeing him again, ever. Do you realise what Father and Mother will say once they get to hear about this? Em, how could you? With a native too. How low can you get?" she hissed.
Emma recoiled from the angry look Felicity was giving her; unable to believe what she was hearing. She was astounded at her reaction for a moment, then she let rip.
"You bitch! How can you speak like that about another human being? Paul's just a man and no different from those you see at your precious golf club. At least he earns his money honestly and doesn't rely on Papa to dole out hand-outs." Emma leapt up from her bed, eyes blazing.
"You have been so irresponsible and stupid as usual. Why can't you just think about someone else for once? Oh no, not you! Emma has to always do something different, to steal the limelight. Well not this time, Emma!"
"I have not! We're in love. We'll get married."
Felicity looked scornfully at her sister. She wasn't going to climb down from her righteous stance. "Do you really believe that?"
"Yes I do!"
"Well, let me tell you a few home truths my girl."
"I don't want to hear them."
"You jolly well will or I'll slap you again. Sit down now. One, Paul is Malayan-Chinese and not only a different race, he is not a Christian."
"So? What's religion got to do with anything? I'm not sure I even believe all that old-fashioned twaddle."
"Emma! Be quiet! Religion has a lot to do with it. Paul is probably a strict Muslim."
"I could become one, quite easily."
"You could, but knowing you, you wouldn't. You wouldn't truly believe."
"So what?"
Ignoring her, Felicity carried on. "Paul is employed by this family. Father would never give you permission and if you persist with this behaviour, I'll stop you myself. Let me tell you what Father will do. First, he'll sack Paul, and if that is not enough to curtail you, he'll then threaten you. You'll either be sent back to England, to live with relations in Yorkshire. You'd hate those long, cold, dreary winters. He'd probably send you to boarding school and then finishing school where you'd be properly supervised until you are twenty-one. Failing that, he could lock you up, and we both know he is quite capable of it. Finally, the worst case scenario is that he could throw you out on the street without a penny. And I do not think Paul would look twice at you then."
Felicity's chest was heaving with anger and two bright spots appeared on her cheeks.
Emma did not feel one bit contrite. If anything, she was doing her best to antagonise her older sister. Despite loving Felicity, she had always lived in the shadow of her beauty, and she realised that deep down she resented this.
"Why are you doing this? Acting as if you're my parents, and why are you so against Paul anyway?" she whined. "Why are you so certain?"
"I just know, trust me in this. And as for Paul I have my reasons."
Emma was sceptical. "Are you jealous? Is that the real reason? Because Paul made love to me and not you?"
In answer, Felicity stalked across the room and threw back the curtains in anger. She stood with her back to Emma as if gathering her thoughts, not seeing the garden beyond and then turned to face her.
"No. No, I'm not in the slightest bit jealous, and if you must know, you're not the first."
"What? I don't bloody belie
ve you!" Emma flew from her bed in one fluid movement. "He'd never make love to you before me. I told you, he loves me."
"No. I don't mean he made love to me first. What I meant was he made a pass at me first. And don't swear, you know better than that."
"You're lying."
"Emma, please." Felicity sighed with frustration. "I'm not lying, I don't need to and he did make a pass. It was about three months ago. I was practising on the tennis court and he came to watch. He helped me pick up all the balls, and one thing led to another. I don't deny he's attractive, but I did not encourage him. He certainly didn't need any. After one or two kisses, I saw how crazy the whole thing was and pushed him away, telling him nothing had happened and wasn't about to. Since then, he has kept a respectable distance and obviously received my message loud and clear. He was stupid to do it in the first place."
Emma remained standing where she was while listening to Felicity's explanation. As the story sank in Emma's face changed. The happy, bubbly girl of an hour ago now looked ill and pale. Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.
Felicity's attitude softened with her younger sister; she was only seventeen and with their upbringing, barely a woman. She took a step towards her, offering a lace-trimmed hankie. "Oh Emma he's not worth it. I know you think otherwise, but he's just a playboy."
"But I love him, and I'm sure he really loves me."
"I'm sure you do, but you'd better get over him and quickly."
"I can't!" she wailed. "And we're meeting again."
"Please don't. Please put a stop to it now before it's too late. You don't want Mother and Father finding out, especially now with all the local troubles threatening to boil over. If they do discover what you've done, all hell will break loose, take my word for it. If you go on having sex with Paul, you'll regret it and what if--" She stopped, not wanting to mention the unthinkable.
As her words struck home, the two sisters stared at each other, each knowing what the 'what if' meant. As the silence stretched between them, a noise caught their attention from the other side of the bedroom door. Giving Emma a horrified look, Felicity strode across the room and flung the door open. Crouching down, ear glued to the keyhole was Alex…
Chapter 16
Diana closed the diary she had finished, with a huge sigh. She was looking pensive.
"What is it?" Steve asked, lying next to her trying to get to grips with a new novel on his e-reader. For the first time in years, he was reading a new fantasy story and beginning to realise things had moved on since his last one. This writer, Tim Ellis, had an amazing imagination, and Steve was anxious to get on and read more.
"Nothing."
"Then why the huge sigh?"
"It's this boy, Alex. He really is a creepy little kid."
"Hardly little, he's what…thirteen?"
"Yes."
"Anyway, yesterday you felt sorry for him, saying he was mixed up over his infatuation with Paul and wanting some fatherly love, now you're saying he's creepy."
"Yes, yes he's all that, and the infatuation is probably more like an obsession. But the couple of entries I've just read cover Emma and her meeting with Paul. Apparently, they made love – her first time as she was a virgin, and when she told her sister all hell let loose. Felicity claimed he was nothing but a womaniser and begged her not to see him again. Emma flew off the handle, accusing her of being jealous, and her sister claimed Paul had come on to her as well.
"In the middle of this row, Alex was discovered with his ear to the door."
"I see what you mean. Well, he's only human, I'm sure you'd flap your ears if you heard something spicy going on. Go on admit it, you love getting involved."
Diana gave a laugh. "Yes, of course I do, but this is different. I don't stoop to putting my ear to someone's door, and this isn't the first time he's done it. If you remember, he is always listening to other people's conversation. There was the time with the girls in the garden when they were first discussing Paul’s attractiveness. Then in his mother's bedroom when she was with Hermione and then again between his mother and father. He is a bit creepy if you ask me."
"Mmm, I see what you mean."
"On another matter, there is one strange thing that puzzles me."
"Shall we have another drink before lunch? Fresh lime and soda?"
"Oh yes please, they're heavenly."
"I'll catch the waiter when he comes back. What is puzzling you?"
"Why did Paul make a pass at Felicity and then Emma? He's an employee of the estate and must have known the danger in doing so. Why place his position in jeopardy and endanger his job? He was a manager or foreman, and I would have thought it a good position to hold, even for someone as well educated as he appears to be?
"Good question. He was either extremely sure of himself, or he held the family in contempt and wasn't worried about losing the job."
"Yes, and that makes him a bit sinister. Why was he there in the first place?"…
~~~~~
…Incensed, I made my way outside to see the puppies. They were growing fast and were now falling over themselves in their eagerness to lick my hands and legs. For once though, their excited yapping at my visit failed to hold my full attention.
I was still smarting from Felicity's lecture about how 'nasty little children shouldn't listen at doors and how I'd hear something rotten about myself one day.' When I argued, she'd given me a horrid slap around my ears. Not waiting for any more lectures or arguments, I fled from the house.
I felt sick over Paul's betrayal with Emma and Felicity. I knew Emma was quite pretty and possessed an ample bosom which some men loved, but to have made a pass at Fizzy too? That I couldn't quite believe. It was true she was very beautiful, but I would have considered her a bit too cold and distant for Paul to make an approach. If it was true then he was a very confident person. I'd known about Emma and Paul all along of course, including the recent tryst in the summer house. I'd watched them making fools of themselves for the past few weeks, but because Paul had taken me into KL with him, shown me the puppies and taught me how to fish, I believed he preferred me to the others and that we shared a special relationship. I still thought this actually. Paul and I had done lots of different things together, not just snogged and you know, like with Emma…I wondered if Emma would stop seeing him. She had sounded pretty much smitten, and as I knew she was as strong-willed as Father, I doubted it. So I had my work cut to put my little oar in and prevent the 'affair' going any further. Paul was not for Emma, he was mine.
~~~~~
Sunday was usually a day of rest and recreation. Father would often invite a horde of people over for luncheon and Mother would fret over the menu she wanted the cook to prepare. She always wanted to throw a lavish banquet and not knowing how to even boil an egg, had no idea of the extra work she gave the kitchen. While she worked herself into one of her migraines, I and everyone who knew her kept well out of the way.
Father surprised me earlier in the week. He had taken delivery of some new rifles, the FN, a Belgium-inspired rifle, known as the FN SLR (Self Loading Rifle). Very early one morning, he decided I needed some more lessons in how to use a rifle well. Over the last few years I’d had some instruction and I could hit a target almost every time. Privately, I was proud of my shooting prowess and thought, given more practice, I could be a really good shot. Felicity and Emma had also acquired some skill but showed little interest in shooting as either a hobby or for hunting.
"Come and choose a rifle, Alex," Father said to me during early breakfast. "I have a new case in my study. What about you two? Are you interested is firing a few rounds after we've finished here? You really should know how to defend yourselves if necessary."
Both Felicity and Emma made faces and shook their heads. "No thanks, we've got another dress fitting later. I don't think essence of gunpowder will go down well with satin and silk, do you Em?" They both laughed at Felicity's jape and disappeared before Father could make the
m change their minds. I, of course, had no choice and feeling despondent at having to spend a couple of hours in Father's company, trudged behind him as we made our way to his lair. I would have much preferred to try out a new rifle on my own or with just Paul watching.
The case lay on the floor in the middle of the room and looked familiar. Same size, same type of box and very similar markings as those Paul had delivered to Scarface. I was aware of becoming very still as I realized the implication of my discovery. No, it couldn't possibly be right. Paul worked for us; he was almost a member of the family. Father trusted him with important tasks around the estate. I dithered. There was no way I could mention this to Father before I had had a chance to talk to Paul. I needed to know I was mistaken. There must be dozens of identical boxes all over the world, containing different goods, but Scarface had looked decidedly like a thug, which worried me. What if I was wrong? I decided the next time I saw Paul, I would ask him about the cases and the mysterious Scarface. I felt sure our friendship had progressed to such an extent he could trust me.
Father opened the case and showed me the contents. I was completely taken aback. These were no mere lightweight rifles for shooting small game. They were proper weapons, sturdy and powerful-looking. Father must have noticed my surprise with the guns, as he at once explained the rifles were not meant for him. He was merely testing them for someone up country.
"Who's that then?"
"You don't know them, and you don't need to know," he replied glaring at me.
I needed no second warning. I knew there had been more sporadic outbreaks of fighting up and down the country and tear gas riots down in KL. I decided these guns were destined to protect people living in remote places, and hoped we were safe enough where we were. I nodded in agreement and followed him outside.
2 Children of the Plantation Page 11
