“I feel bad about it. He has been so kind to us. I can’t bear the shock and sadness on his daughter’s face,” cried Swee Yoke.
“It will be even more unbearable if they were to know the truth. We could be kicked out. The young Mr Ong could stop our allowance. How are we to live? How are you going to bring up your son? Do you want everyone to know your shame? Do you wish to go back to your previous existence?” Ah Chu’s voice was sharp. She glared at her youngest daughter. “Don’t you agree that what I did was for the best?” she asked the other two women.
Hui and Huan nodded solemnly. The two sisters dropped their eyes, unable to meet Ah Chu’s gaze. How could they say otherwise? They owed her so much.
Ah Chu grabbed Swee Yoke’s hand, enclosing it tight in hers until the girl winced. She wanted to shake her beautiful young daughter. “You heard Hui and Huan? Don’t jeopardise their lives by being virtuous; you say what I tell you to say.” She turned to the two sisters. “Remember you are my daughters. Ah Sook won’t tell on us. He is my kinsman. His father was my mother’s brother. I doubt Mr Ong’s son would pay for your upkeep unless you were closely related to Swee Yoke and me. Just being clansmen from the same village in China would not be sufficient reason. You don’t want to be out on the streets do you? And he won’t pay for us if we don’t establish a strong enough stake.”
“Mother,” cried Swee Yoke, “is there no other way?”
“No,” Ah Chu insisted. She was determined and shook her head vigorously to emphasise her point. “I have thought it through. You might have to give your boy to Mistress Ong. Ah Sook says she longs to have another son. She lost one of hers to the shivering sickness. That will sweeten her up. Then we can all stay together. Our future would not be bleak as it surely would be if you do not do as I say. Remember how it was when we first arrived in this country.”
“No! Please don’t take my little boy,” sobbed Swee Yoke.
“You are young. You can have another.” She reached over and brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen over Swee Yoke’s eyes. “You might still find a suitor despite your shame, a shame you brought on yourself. At least Hui and Huan had justifiable reasons for being what they were. They were sold to a brothel and Mr Ong rescued them when he heard of their plight from Ah Sook. You!” Ah Chu wagged her finger at her daughter; her voice became stern. “You have a child because you allowed your master into your bed!”
“No mother. You know that it is not true. He forced himself on me and for that his wife had me beaten and thrown out. Mr Ong saved me. You didn’t even come to my aid.”
Ah Chu’s eyes misted for a moment. She knew she was being unfair. Her young innocent daughter was just a pawn, dispensable like all women were. Like she herself was. When she first came to this country to find work, no one took her in until that rogue of a master saw Swee Yoke. “We’ll employ both you and your daughter,” he had said immediately. She was so happy for the work. Unwittingly she had tried to win her master’s favours by encouraging Swee Yoke to serve the master, bringing him tea and his shoes, massaging his shoulders when he requested. Swee Yoke did as she was asked. She was the obedient child Ah Chu brought her up to be. When Ah Chu learnt that the master had forced himself on Swee Yoke she had allowed herself to be beguiled by the possibility that he would take her for his concubine. So she did nothing. Yet, she reflected, what could she do? She had not reckoned on the master’s wife. Yes, she was at fault. She knew it deep down and she wanted that guilt buried. The memories brought back the image of Swee Yoke, her clothes torn and bloodied, her body bruised and her lips swollen. She pushed it away.
“Suan le! Suan le!” she cried. “Let us not dwell on the past. We have to think of the future. And being out on the streets is not a future we want. Your son will always be yours. We will find a way to make sure he knows,” she comforted.
***
The monsoon rains did not falter for two weeks. They went on and on. Both the River Klang and Gombak burst their banks. Torrents of brown muddy water coursed through the town, destroying everything in its path. Many small thatched huts were washed away. Even the newly built police barrack was brought down. Pieces of wood, bits of thatch, pots, beddings and furniture floated merrily down the river. Some lodged themselves on riverbanks where the exposed roots of trees stood; others were thrown helter-skelter by the rush of water down the valley. Jing-jing made several desperate attempts to go home. When she succeeded, she found half the roof gone. Standing knee deep in swirling water, she could only gape with disbelief at the carnage before slowly trudging her way back to Ah Kum’s. This time her reception was cooler.
“You have been here for two weeks now and my madam has fed and clothed you. If you wish to stay longer you will have to think of a way to repay her. I think she is thinking of putting a small charge on your accommodation.” Ah Kum handed Jing-jing a towel. Looking archly from under her brow, she brought her hand up on Jing-jing’s arm. She stroked it gently, feeling the firmness of the arm, the smoothness of the skin, her eyes all the while on the young woman. With a voice as smooth as silk, she said, “There is nothing to stop you from using your assets to improve your life. No one needs to know, certainly not your husband.”
“What do you mean?” Jing-jing took a step back. Goose bumps appeared on her arm and she shivered. She was not sure if it was from the cold or Ah Kum’s touch.
“I don’t mean right now, right this minute. Huh! Who is coming here with the raging storm outside? And look at this house. Water has seeped in despite our efforts to keep it out. Afterwards, when the storm has blown over, Madam expects business to return to normal. Then you can help.” She busied herself with the tea bowls on the stand. “It is only right and honourable that you return her favours.”
“What do you mean? How?”
Ah Kum laughed, a cackle that rose from her belly to burst forth in a sharp series of barks. “You cannot be as innocent as that! You are teasing me. You must know what this place is?”
“I ... I don’t know. Your Madam’s place of residence...? That is what you said and the girls ... clans women from your village?” “And why are we all here?” Ah Kum grinned and wagged her finger at Jing-jing. “Come, come! You don’t expect me to believe that you had no clue.”
“Please don’t tease me. I am a village girl. Until I came to Malaya I had never been out of my village. I can count on one hand the number of times I had been allowed to go out on my own. All I know is what you told me.”
Ah Kum winked. “This is a gambling den besides other things.” “But ... but I have not heard ... seen any gambling...” said Jing- jing lamely. She suddenly remembered the sound of mahjong tiles on her first day here. Since then, she had heard nothing. She had been more or less confined in the room and she saw and spoke only to Ah Kum.
“Well then you are blind,” said Ah Kum, “although I have to say, with the weather being what it is now, business has been slow. Look! All Madam wants you to do is to help out with the drinks to customers. With the money you earn, you could repair your roof.”
Ah Kum walked to the door before turning to face Jing-jing. “Think about it,” she said and closed the door sharply behind her.
Jing-jing heard a click. She ran to the door, it would not open; she banged on it, calling out to Ah Kum all the while.
“Don’t make such a commotion. I’ll open it when you become more reasonable,” said Ah Kum.
***
“Here, take this broom and help. Don’t just sit there like a Buddha,” cried Ah Tai.
The maid was furious. While the house had not flooded like the rest of the town, the rain had poured into the central open courtyard splattering on to the surrounding tiled floor. Ah Kew, the second maid had slipped and twisted her ankle leaving Ah Tai with all the work. She grumbled as she flicked the long bristled broom along the surrounding corridor. Swish! Swish! She wielded the broom like a weapon. “I can’t do everything on my own, “ she muttered.
Li Ling took a broom and sw
ept after her; then she followed up with a dry mop. Soon the tiled floor glistened. When they finished, Ah Tai stood with one hand on her hip. “You are not a bad worker, after all,” she said. “Maybe we can make some use of you.” She grinned showing a row of yellowed teeth. “I’ll let you have some of Ah Kew’s famous sesame buns for being so helpful. Come with me,” she bid the girl.
They went into the adjoining kitchen. From the recess of a store cupboard, Ah Tai brought out a bun filled with sweet red bean paste and topped with a generous sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds. “Here, eat.” She placed it on the table and sat down and watched while Li Ling ate.
“You are a funny girl. Lost your tongue? Can’t you say anything? I know that when Miss Shao Peng came back the other night there was a meeting between her, big Mistress and the young Master. Can you not tell me what happened?”
Li Ling shook her head. She recalled the meeting. She had gone to the dining room with Miss Shao Peng who promptly forgot her. A heated discussion followed between the three adults. They spoke in a mixture of Malay and Chinese. Li Ling didn’t understand most of it. The big Mistress had cried and wailed. The food was left uneaten on the table. She remembered her hunger; she hadn’t dared eat.
The following morning, big Mistress was in such a mood. She glared at Li Ling and told her to disappear. She said she could not stand the sight of her. She said that Li Ling reminded her of the other women, the ones they were discussing the previous night. So Li Ling had made herself scarce. She made herself useful to the maids.
Li Ling swallowed quickly the remaining crumbs and got up. She didn’t feel it was right to say anything at all about the meeting, much to the annoyance of Ah Tai. She hastened to thank the maid and excused herself. She went up to the bedroom she shared with Miss Shao Peng. She knew that her position in the house was awkward. She was not quite a servant - the fact that she shared Miss Shao Peng’s room and was petted by her differentiated her from the maids. However, the big Mistress disliked her and the servants treated her like one of them. She sat on the bed and drew her legs up to rest her chin on her knees. Then there was the young Master. Unlike his mother, he was very kind to her. He was so good-looking and gentle, Li Ling thought, quite unlike the young farmers in her village. She was drawn to him. Her heart quickened each time he was in the room. She prayed that they would not send her away; she wanted so much to stay in this house. She recalled the conversation between Ah Tai and Ah Kew in the kitchen. She wondered about Suet Ping, the girl big Mistress intended for Master Siew Loong. She wondered if she was pretty.
Lost in her reverie, she did not notice Shao Peng coming into the room.
Shao Peng walked quietly to the bed and sat down on its edge, next to Li Ling. “What are you thinking about?” she asked. She placed her arm around the girl’s shoulders. Perhaps Rohani was right. Li Ling was not a child. She was a young girl fast becoming a woman. Of late, she had noticed her brother’s solicitous behaviour towards Li Ling. Was it her imagination borne out of what her stepmother had said?
“Nothing,” the girl replied raising her eyes.
“Nothing?”
“What is going to become of me?” Li Ling asked.
“I am so sorry. With my father’s death, the floods and all ... the other things happening in the family, I have not thought in detail about the matter. Would you like to learn to read and write? When I was a child, the greatest thing that happened to me was the education my aunt gave me. Later, Uncle Grime taught me to read and write in English. Would you like that for yourself?”
“Am I not to be a servant?”
Shao Peng smiled and shook her head.
“Will I stay in this house with you and Master Siew Loong?”
Shao Peng was surprised by the reference to her brother. She observed the blush that coloured Li Ling’s cheeks when she mentioned Siew Loong’s name. She thought of her stepmother’s earlier insistence that Li Ling should be removed from the house. Rohani had said that she might let Li Ling stay if she could find out more about her father’s women. That promise might not hold, not when she, Shao Peng, was a bringer of such bad news.
“I am not sure,” she replied, her eyes steadfast on the girl.
“I would rather stay here. If learning meant that I have to leave, I’d rather not learn.”
“Don’t you think reading and writing would be more important?
“My mother does not read and write. She says that girls don’t need to be clever; they have just to be obedient because we are like a flash of...”
“You told me,” interrupted Shao Peng. “I don’t agree with her. With education, you could do much more for yourself.”
“Like you? I am not clever that way.”
Shao Peng hesitated for a moment, then lifting her chin determinedly she said, “Yes, perhaps a bit like me, though more like the women I am going to tell you about.” She drew her legs up on the bed and sat cross-legged facing her charge. She told her of the work of women like Miss Betty Langland, a missionary, who gathered together a few women and taught them to read, starting the first girls’ school in the town. She spoke of another called Nurse Maclay who brought up and taught children abandoned by their mothers, and finally of the three Sisters whom Li Ling had met. “We too can do these great things if we learn.”
***
That night long after Li Ling had fallen asleep, Shao Peng was still up. She got out of bed, threw a shawl over her shoulders and went out of the room. The house was quiet and shrouded with darkness; the stillness broken only by the night sounds of geckos and bats chirping as they dived through the skies. She opened the door and stepped barefoot onto the verandah. A blast of cold damp air hit her and she wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She looked up and saw the sky ablaze with stars. The rains had stopped, leaving only dampness in the air and the scent of rain-soaked flowers. She made her way round the verandah holding on to the rail and edging slowly on the wooden floor towards her favourite seat. Her foot connected with another stretched out across her path.
“You can’t sleep?” Siew Loong drew his feet up to make way for her.
She sat down next to him. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could see his profile. “No,” she replied.
“Me neither.” He shuffled further up the reclining chair. “At least the rains have eased and things can get back to normal again. Well as normal as it can get. I can at least start work.” He leaned back, his own face half hidden in the darkness. “I don’t know what to do about father’s other family. Mother wants us to cut off all ties with them. She wants me to pay them off. Today I got a message from Ah Chu, the mother of those women. She offered the little boy to us. She said that he belonged to the main house because he is our father’s son. I haven’t told mother of it yet. Should I?” he asked turning to face his sister. “He is our half brother.”
She looked at his young face. His hair had been cut short unlike many of the other Chinese men who still maintained their hair long and braided into a pigtail. He must have been tousling it, for it stood ruffled and uncompromising, softened only by the slight breeze that had picked up.
“I am not sure.” She hesitated. “Perhaps you should tell her. She would come to know sooner or later. It is difficult to keep things to ourselves because I can see that the servants have started talking amongst themselves. Why did Ah Chu want to do that?
“She said that according to Chinese custom, the son of a concubine belongs to the first wife and that she is only doing it out of respect.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know if mother would think the same way.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “What a mess! Father’s sudden death had opened up, what Uncle Grime would call a can of worms. I don’t want this family to split apart because of this.”
“No, it won’t.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And you? Are you coping?”
She shrugged noncommittally and turned towards the garden. Somewhere, an owl hooted. She could see a flock of birds flying from a tree, th
eir wings flapping in the starlit sky. She turned back to face him. “You are right about keeping busy and having projects. I am going to help the nuns run their school. Would you agree to it?”
Chapter 13
AT THE BREAK of dawn, a dim ray of sunlight seeped through the window curtains into the bedroom. Li Ling rolled over and saw Shao Peng still deep in sleep in the bed next to hers. She sat up. Quietly she swung her legs out of the bed and tiptoed to the window. She lifted a corner of the curtain and peeped down to the garden. Two gardeners were busy sweeping the path. She looked down directly beneath her. Rohani was standing at the top of the short flight of steps leading from the verandah. Only the top of her head and her shoulders were visible from above. Li Ling was uncertain as to whether she should go down immediately to help. She knew that there was a lot of work to be done. The previous night Ah Kew and Ah Tai had grumbled that the floods had brought large quantities of debris and waste into the garden. Inevitably this meant a lot of cleaning once the floods receded. Her heart missed a beat. She saw the young master join the Mistress. His head bent close to his mother’s for a minute. He appeared to be saying something. Suddenly he looked up, his gaze seemingly directed at her. Li Ling dropped the curtain. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks and a hammering in her heart. Quickly she changed into her day clothes, combed her hair and went down.
She went out through the main door and stepped on to the verandah. He was not there any more, only the Mistress remained. She turned to make a quick retreat before she could be spotted. She would go to the kitchen, she thought. Mistress would not like to see her so early in the morning. She had made herself plain. Li Ling walked quickly and quietly towards the kitchen, skirting the courtyard. The kitchen was unusually quiet for the time of the day. Ah Kew and Ah Tai would normally be busy preparing the breakfast, directing the under maids to light the fire and boil the water for the morning tea. The kitchen would be a hubbub of noise, cooking smells and activity. That morning, however, only Ah Tai was in the kitchen.
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