As soon as we were inside, winding up the rattan curtains and turning on the lights, Tanya burst out in Russian. ‘I must talk to you, Nona. I am sick with worry and I don’t know which way to turn.’
I sat her down in the waiting room, and pulled up another chair for myself. ‘It’s about you and Eugene, isn’t it?’ I prompted. ‘If it is, let me say straight away that I think you two would make a perfect couple. I am so very happy for you.’
‘If only it were so simple,’ Tanya said shaking her head slowly. ‘He has asked me to marry him, Nona. I want so much to say yes, but I think that if I did so I would be deceiving him.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t be deceiving him if you love him.’
‘I don’t love him, Nona. That’s one of the problems.’
I stared at Tanya. ‘I saw you with him on Saturday, and it looked to me as if you loved him.’
‘I like him. He respects me and looks after me. He would do anything to protect me and to make me happy. I would be a fool not to like him. But I don’t love him.’
I paused, marshalling my thoughts carefully before replying. ‘To like someone is sometimes better than to love them, Tanya. Love can be demanding. It can lead to jealousy and misery. If you like Eugene, and he loves you, surely you can make him happy and he can make you happy?’
Tanya shook her head, harder this time. ‘That’s only part of it, Nona. Eugene wants . . . sex and babies.’
‘Of course he wants sex and babies,’ I said, smiling. ‘And I suspect you do too. I think that every real woman wants sex and babies. The human race would come to a grinding halt if they didn’t.’
Tanya face suddenly crumpled, and for the first time in my life I saw tears in her eyes. ‘Then I am not a real woman,’ she said, her voice sounding strange and twisted, ‘because I cannot bear the thought of sex. I think I would scream if a man tried to touch me.’
I was shocked into silence for a moment or two, but – ‘Don’t be silly, Tanya. You are over-reacting, surely. A girl is naturally a little frightened before the first time . . .’ I thought of my own keenness on the beach at Pulau Orang Laut, and had the grace to blush.
Tanya took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘You don’t understand, Nona. It’s not that simple. Something happened to me in China when I was a little girl. It has made it impossible for me to think of sex as anything but hurtful, awful and evil.’
I sat back involuntarily. I had heard similar stories. The Russian émigré community had suffered a lot on its passage through China in the 1920s. Deals had been done with Chinese warlords. Unscrupulous fathers had even sold their daughters into white slavery in payment for safe passage. Children had been made into whores, some as young as ten or eleven. Some of the girls who had escaped had sloughed off their experiences with the ease of snakes sloughing off unwanted skin. Others had never recovered. There had been a girl at the Convent, not much older than I, who had lost the ability to speak because of something that had happened to her in northern China. Tania would sit under the frangipani trees outside the boarders’ house, watching us all at play with huge, hurt eyes, and if you tried to talk to her she would cringe as if waiting for a blow.
I reached out towards Tanya without actually touching her, and recognised that it was a gesture I had used towards Tania. ‘Was it terrible?’ I asked softly. ‘Were you physically harmed?’
Tanya shook her head. ‘Others suffered much more than I did. But somehow, I have never properly recovered. That’s why I hate it when Julia tries to match-make me. I only feel . . . repulsion. Or indifference.’
‘I think you should tell Eugene about . . . about everything,’ I said firmly. ‘I think he loves you and I am sure he will understand. There are people who can help. Psychiatrists and specialist doctors. Eugene has the money to find a cure. There are clinics in Europe that I have read about.’
‘I tried to talk to him about it once,’ Tanya said. ‘I said I was terribly shy, and that showing affection would be very hard for me. He was hurt that I could even suggest that I might not be able to take him into my arms. He said that if I loved him as much as he loved me, we would fall into each other’s arms quite naturally.’ She suddenly shivered with violent distaste. ‘I could never fall into anyone’s arms. I would prefer to die.’
There was a moment of silence in the empty salon, disturbed only by the tok tok of food-sellers in the street outside, selling breakfast to the early workers. ‘Do you have to marry Eugene?’ I asked. ‘Couldn’t you just be friends?’
‘I want to marry Eugene!’ Tanya said quickly. ‘You really don’t understand, Nona. I have been a nobody all my life. I even tried to supplant you in your mother’s affections, just to win a place in the world. Who am I, really and truly? A nobody, with no real family, unable even to reach out and offer affection . . . I might as well be dead!’ Her hard voice suddenly softened. ‘If I married Eugene, I would be everything I ever wanted to be. Part of a family. A person of rank and worth. Women would not despise me, and men would admire me instead of looking at me askance.’
My heart swelled with love for this pretty, prickly girl who was so much nicer than she had ever let on, and tears started in my own eyes. ‘Oh, Tanya. Don’t be such a silly! Lots of people love you and respect you. Not for who you would like to be, but for who you are right now!’
But Tanya had collected herself, withdrawn into her shell. She blew her nose again, then stood up and smoothed her dress. ‘I cry like a silly child, no?’ she said in English. Her small, hard smile was back in place on her lips.
But later in the morning, in the midst of customers and our normal confusion, she suddenly gripped my hand very tight. ‘I am going to marry Eugene!’ She said fiercely. ‘So don’t tell anyone what I told you. Please.’
Chapter Nine
The Malay Mail made quite a feast of the Tanjong Malim affair. There were ‘in depth’ stories about the riot itself and its aftermath, and then came a dreadfully inaccurate report on Rajeev’s death which suggested that he had died in a gangster-style shootout with soldiers. When the police issued a wanted bulletin for Nathan Srinivasan, the focus turned to the fifteen-year-old brother of the dead terrorist. ‘What kind of Malaya can we look forward to,’ the paper’s editorial thundered, ‘when young thugs barely out of school turn to guns to try and win their petty arguments?’
At first, each time I spotted a new item in the press it sent a chill through me and I would grab the paper and scan the article, looking to see that Denis and I were still in the clear. But after a week or two, my apprehension turned to a kind of fascination with the subject. I almost wished that there would be some reference to the way Nathan had been spirited out from under police noses. Perhaps even a hint that ‘a dashing KL couple are believed to have been involved in the daring escape’.
I began to romanticise the whole business, seeing Denis and me as knights-errant in shining armour who had fought the good fight against overpowering odds.
Which meant that when the crunch came I was doubly shocked. I woke one morning to thunderous knocking on the front door, and was still groping for my dressing gown when Mother came to tell me that the police wanted to see me. I walked down the passageway to the lounge weak-kneed with fear, my heart beating hard and the palms of my hands slippery with sweat.
I was absolutely convinced that I was about to be arrested.
The first person I saw was Malcolm, stiff and unsmiling in his uniform but welcome all the same. Jack Jocelyn was also there, and two other men I didn’t know who looked at me with cold, professional eyes.
‘Nona, I’m afraid we have come here on very serious business,’ Malcolm began. ‘These gentlemen are from Special Branch. They are here to give you a warning. Please listen to them very, very carefully.’ He paused, then gestured to the others present. ‘This is Detective Chief Inspector James and Mr Onraet. Mr Onraet is the Inspector-General of Singapore Special Branch. I understand you have already met Dete
ctive Inspector Jocelyn.’
Jocelyn stared at me, his piggy eyes unblinking.
Mr Onraet was the only one to show any humanity. He shook my hand courteously and asked me to be seated. ‘Sorry to barge in on you at this hour,’ he said, sitting down next to me, ‘but this is the only time I have available today and I think it is important that we speak face to face.’
I stared at the four men, my face feeling cold, a small tremble running through my entire body. Mother had been asked to leave the room and I felt completely alone. I wished desperately that Denis could have been there.
‘What do you want to talk about?’ I asked.
‘We could talk about what happened at Mrs Srinivasan’s house when Special Branch raided the place,’ Onraet said. ‘Or we could talk about the way you and Mr Elesmere-Elliott smuggled young Nathan out in your car. But we won’t. We’ll talk about the dangerous territory into which you seem so determined to head.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I said.
Jocelyn clicked his tongue irritably but Onraet held up a hand. ‘Then I will be very plain, Miss Roberts,’ he said. ‘I want you to end your association with Mr Elesmere-Elliott. As gently or as abruptly as you like. But end it you must.’
This was suddenly familiar territory and almost sighed with relief. ‘Denis and I are in love,’ I said firmly. ‘Malcolm has already warned me that you think he is a Russian spy. For what it’s worth I don’t believe you. He is a fine man who stood beside Mrs Srinivasan as . . . as any English gentleman would have done in the circumstances. And I will stay by his . . .’ my voice broke, but I ploughed on, ‘I will stay by his side as long as he needs me.’
There was a short, almost embarrassed silence.
Then Onraet shrugged slightly. ‘A fine sentiment,’ he said almost without irony. ‘But things are not quite as simple as you may think.’ He paused and fished out his cigarette case, tapping it absently with his thumbnail before putting it away again unopened. Then he seemed to make up his mind about something and glanced at Malcolm. ‘If it helps at all, Miss Roberts, I don’t think Denis is a Russian spy. Or anything like it. But your association with him is nevertheless very . . . awkward. Even dangerous. For you as well as for him.’
‘I don’t care how dangerous it is for me,’ I said. ‘You should know that I would die for Denis.’
Mr Onraet smiled faintly. ‘Then let me put it this way, and I will speak as plainly as I can. It would be more dangerous for Denis than for you if you were to continue together. Are you prepared to give Denis up for his sake?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ I asked, completely confused. I took a deep breath. ‘You are talking in riddles, Mr Onraet. What do you mean when you say that my association with Denis could be dangerous for him?’
Onraet look as if he was about to speak but Inspector James interrupted, clearing his throat with heavy officiousness. ‘We cannot tell you anything more than we have already, Miss Roberts,’ he said loudly. ‘In fact we have probably said too much as it is. Now, let me give you an official warning. Cease your association with Denis Elesmere-Elliott or steps will have to be taken that would be unpleasant for you.’
It was a naked threat and I was suddenly angry. ‘What sort of steps?’ I asked.
‘We have the power to revoke your residency permit,’ James said succinctly. ‘And we will do precisely that. For your own good. Unless you wake up to yourself and put an end to this association of yours.’ Onraet again looked as though he was about to speak but again James interrupted him. ‘My patch,’ he said to Onraet brusquely, holding a hand up in his face.
I was suddenly sick to death of these petty men and their arrogance, and I stood up imperiously. ‘Get out!’ I said as coldly and as calmly as I could, pointing with outstretched arm at the doorway. ‘Get out of my home immediately! All of you!’ I couldn’t quite manage Denis’s crackling tone but it was pretty good for a beginner.
All four officers rose, their faces registering different degrees of surprise and shock. Malcolm was the first to recover. ‘For heaven’s sake, Nona. Don’t you see we are trying to save you from yourself?’
‘Out!’ I shouted. I was suddenly absolutely furious, my cheeks flaming with a flush that felt like creeping fire. ‘Arrest me or get out of my home!’
The thought of a scene from a screaming, demented woman scattered the four men more effectively than a fusillade of shots. They were gone within moments, and I slammed the front door after them. Immediately, all the strength left my legs and I tottered back to the lounge to collapse on the sofa. The anger had gone, leaving me empty of all emotions, all desire to move or even to think.
‘So they are going to revoke my daughter’s residency permit,’ Mother said heavily, sitting down opposite me.
There was no way I could keep this from my mother. She had almost certainly heard every word anyway. So I told her the story from the beginning. Tanya joined us halfway through the telling and so I had to start again.
‘My poor Nona!’ Mother said when I had finished. ‘But I told you, I warned you, no? Of course, you must do as the officers say. Who is this Denis anyway? Trouble for my lovely daughter, that is who!’
Tanya made a place on the sofa beside me. ‘Nona will do what she thinks is right,’ she said. I thought for a moment that she was going to take my hand, but though she had softened a lot lately she had not softened that much.
‘What are you going to do, Nona?’ Mother asked. ‘Risk deportation by sticking with Denis? Or act sensibly for a change?’ She had dropped into Russian. It was the first time we had spoken together in Russian since we had been in KL, which was a measure of her concern.
She deserved a straight answer. ‘I love Denis and I know I always will,’ I said. ‘It would be death for me to leave him. So I will disobey these police officers and ignore their threats. But don’t worry too much, Mother. I think that they were bluffing. There are rules and regulations about these things. I am not doing anything wrong by standing beside Denis, and so I can’t see what reason they can give for deporting me.’
Mother clicked her tongue. ‘You are so young and naïve, Nona. These are very powerful people. If they want to have you deported, all that is necessary is for Special Branch to whisper something to the people who decide these matters, and you will be deported. Mark my words.’
‘Denis is also a powerful person,’ I said. ‘He is very popular in KL, and he has an awful lot of powerful friends. I’m sure he could stop any nonsense by the police.’
‘He is also very wealthy,’ Tanya put in. ‘He could afford the very best lawyers.’
‘Indeed he is wealthy!’ Mother said with an edge to her voice. ‘He is very, very wealthy! They were talking about him at the Selangor Club the other day. They were wondering how it is he has made such wealth in the short time he has been in Malaya. He came out here as a Dunlops trainee manager a bare ten years ago. A “creeper”, as they call them. Since then he has become one of the wealthiest young men in KL. He certainly did not become wealthy on his salary!’
I sighed. ‘What are you suggesting, Mother? ‘That the Comintern is paying Denis a fortune to spy on us?’
Mother shook her head. ‘There are people making a fortune smuggling opium into the FMS for the Chinese triads,’ she said. ‘You can make a fortune in a day by bringing in a few pounds of the stuff. The only trouble is that it is almost certain that one day you will be shot dead. Either by the police or by the triads themselves. There are gang killings in the papers every day. Even Europeans are murdered.’
I was becoming a little angry. ‘Denis is not a smuggler,’ I said. ‘He is a very good businessman. His contract with Guthries gives him permission to speculate on the share market. He has been very lucky with shares lately.’
‘Denis a businessman?’ Mother snorted. ‘Have you ever seen him being a businessman, Nona? All the time you have known him he has played cricket and golf, and gone off sailing, or gone off to shoot seladang.
When has he time to work for Guthries, let alone be a private businessman?’
‘It doesn’t take very long to place an order on the Exchange to buy or sell shares. All it takes is courage.’
Mother dragged her chair close to mine. ‘Nona, my dear. Let me tell you some things you really should know. This Denis of yours owns half the derelict gold and tin mines in Selangor and Perak. He buys them for a song, and he sells them for a song. Or he just holds onto them. Why does he do this? It is said, Nona, that he does it as a front, to explain where all his money is coming from.’
I got to my feet. ‘First you tell me Denis is a lady-killer, and I shouldn’t see him because he will break my heart. Then he is a Comintern spy. Now you say he is working for the triads, smuggling opium into Malaya. I’m sick and tired of these stupid stories!’ My voice had risen and I could feel myself trembling again.
Tanya got to her feet too, and she steered me gently but firmly back to the sofa. ‘We say these things only because Denis is an enigma to us all,’ she said. ‘You see, we care for you very much, little sister. We do not want you to be hurt. But if you truly love Denis, and he loves you, then of course you must follow your heart.’
Just then Ismail’s horn beeped outside. It had been arranged that he would drive me to the Riding Club in the company car as Denis had gone down earlier to exercise his horses. I was tempted to send an excuse and to go back to bed for the day. But that would mean that I wouldn’t see Denis, and what I needed above everything else was reassurance. So I took myself off and had a lightning shower, running down to the car in my riding kit with my hair still wet. Mother and Tanya watched me go from the upstairs balcony, and I could see the concern in their faces as they waved me goodbye.
I told Denis all about the visit by the police as soon as I met him, clinging onto his arm as he stood with a steaming Soliloquy in the saddling enclosure. He had been flushed and smiling after a hard ride but his demeanour changed the moment he heard what I had to say. He called sharply for the syce to take the bridle and strode back to his car with me without a backwards glance.
In the Mouth of the Tiger Page 17
