by Di Morrissey
Although there was a family resemblance, Bette differed from her sister in that she was shorter and curvier with long, thick hair which the breeze blew about her shoulders. Bette wore a sundress and looked younger than her twenty years. Margaret was wearing a smart suit and a small jaunty hat. Margaret usually tended to dress rather formally, especially since discovering the local tailor with his swathes of Indian silks and Egyptian fine cottons. She ordered fashion magazines that arrived regularly and designs from them were quickly copied by her tailor. Margaret acknowledged that she sometimes overdressed, but she felt that there was a standard to maintain in being Mrs Roland Elliott of Utopia plantation, especially as their busy social life seemed to demand an up-to-date wardrobe. It was an indulgence she said was justified and she rarely asked for anything for the house any more after an initial flurry of curtain and cushion making. Even the baby’s room had been kept somewhat basic. Margaret, however, did not extend the same restraint to her garden, which she loved. She had designed it herself and made sure that it was attended each day by the gardener. It had started to look quite beautiful.
The gangplank was in place and Roland smiled as he watched his son drop his mother’s hand and dart between adults, dragging Bette with him as he forged his way to the bottom.
Roland caught him and swung him high in the air. ‘Hello, young man. My, how you’ve grown! Did you miss your papa?’
In reply the little boy flung his arms around Roland’s neck, squeezing him tight.
Roland held out his hand to Bette. ‘Lovely to meet you, Bette. How was the trip?’
‘Wonderful. I’m so excited to be here. I think Philip has missed you.’ She turned to look for Margaret. ‘I must help Margie. Goodness knows where our bags have gone.’
‘They’ll be fine. Despite the apparent chaos, there is a system to all this. Hamid will sort out things. Hello, my dear.’ He untangled Philip and balanced him on his hip as Margaret caught up with them. He embraced Margaret and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘Good trip? The boy was good?’
‘Spoiled rotten. But everyone thought him splendid. It will be good to get him back into a routine at home, though. Three months in Brisbane was too long to be away. I certainly missed the amah’s help,’ she added. ‘You’ve met Bette?’
‘Yes. We can talk in the car. Hamid will get the luggage. Let’s get out of this crush. This must be a bit overwhelming for you, Bette.’ Roland led the way with Philip now riding on his shoulders.
‘I’m so excited to be here. This is so exotic,’ said Bette. ‘All the hustle and bustle, not as big as Singapore, but just as colourful.’
Roland glanced at her bright eyes and happy smile as she gazed about. ‘There’s lots more to see. Let’s start with a cold drink before we start our journey,’ he said. Margaret linked her arm through Roland’s as they walked along the dock.
‘How was everything in Brisbane? Your family is well? They must have enjoyed having Philip around. We all missed having him about the place here.’
‘He was the centre of attention. But it’s been tiring managing him on my own. Bette helped of course. Mother enjoyed the bedtime story and cooked him cakes and biscuits. The activity helped keep Father distracted. He pours over the newspapers and listens to the radio all the time. He’s terribly concerned about the war in Europe, as is everyone else at home.’
Roland glanced back at Bette. ‘Yes. It’s very worrying.’
‘But surely we’re fine here. The war will never touch Malaya,’ said Margaret firmly.
Roland didn’t look as convinced as his wife, but turned to Bette. ‘So this is your birthday trip? The war in Europe certainly changed any plans you might have had about going there, like Margaret did.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have gone to Europe anyway. I’ve wanted to come here, to the East, for ages. Margaret’s letters home make it sound so fascinating.’
‘Then we’ll try our best to keep you entertained,’ said Roland.
‘You don’t have to do that. I’m quite good at entertaining myself,’ said Bette cheerfully.
‘She wants to go into the jungle,’ said Margaret with a small smile. ‘I’ve told her that’s a foolish idea. She’ll understand why when she gets there.’
‘We’ve invited some of the neighbours over for a big curry tiffin on Sunday, to meet Bette and welcome you home. The club hasn’t been as much fun these past few months without you, and I’ve been losing badly at bridge without my best partner.’
‘You play bridge now?’ Bette asked. ‘How clever of you, Margie.’
‘One has to keep one’s end up. It’s very popular here.’
Bette sat in the back of the Oldsmobile with Margaret and Philip.
‘There’s not a lot to see,’ warned Margaret. ‘Endless jungle, plantations and a few villages. A small town or two.’
‘But that’s exactly what I want to see,’ said Bette. ‘I’ve brought my sketchpads and watercolours. I just know I’m going to love being here.’ She glanced at her sister. ‘Thanks so much for inviting me. And you too, Roland.’
‘It’s lovely for Margaret to have your company. And fun for Philip.’ He glanced back at the boy. ‘You going to show Aunt Bette your favourite toys, eh, young man?’
‘Bet-Bet . . . play,’ said Philip enthusiastically.
‘Oh goody,’ said Bette. ‘Do you have any pets?’
‘Ah, that’s a moot point,’ smiled Roland.
‘Roland, I asked you to get rid of those animals while we were away,’ said Margaret.
‘It’s tricky to boss a macaque around,’ said Roland.
‘A who?’ asked Bette.
‘A very mischievous monkey. Don’t encourage them, they become pests,’ said Margaret.
‘Did you have pets when you grew up here?’ Bette asked Roland as they drove along the old trunk road towards Slim River.
‘I certainly did. I even kept a python for awhile, until feeding it became an issue and Mother made me release it.’
‘Ugh. There are enough animals in the wild without encouraging them around the house,’ said Margaret.
‘What fun,’ said Bette.
‘Are you always so enthusiastic about things?’ Roland asked Bette with a smile.
Before Bette could answer, Margaret chipped in, ‘Mother calls her our little Miss Sunshine. I call her Pollyanna. Really, if Bette can find a good side to a bad situation she will.’
Bette merely smiled and began asking Roland questions about the plantation. How was the rubber collected, what did the workers do, where did they come from, how did they live? She asked how and why Roland’s father had come to Malaya. What was his childhood like at Utopia? Would Philip have the same experiences?
Margaret closed her eyes and Philip put his head in her lap and slept. But Margaret was listening to the long exchanges between Roland and Bette and learned more about her husband’s history than she’d known previously.
Bette kept in the background when they arrived at Utopia. Everyone was fussing over Philip, who raced around. Eugene kissed Margaret on the cheek before she introduced him to her sister.
‘Very nice to meet you, young lady. I hope you enjoy your stay with us,’ he said, rather formally.
But Bette’s effusive and genuine responses soon had the old man smiling broadly.
Margaret called Philip from Kim’s embrace. ‘Bette, this is Roland’s old amah. She thinks she owns Roland, and now, I suspect that she thinks the same about Philip. We’ll take you over to our bungalow so that you can settle in. We’ll see Mr Elliott again later for drinks at sunset.’
‘Really? How lovely.’
At Margaret and Roland’s bungalow, Ah Kit showed Bette to her room while Margaret went to inspect her garden and Philip trailed behind his father. When Bette had washed and changed her travelling clothes, she stood on the verandah looking out at the view.
Margaret joined her and sat down in one of the wicker chairs, sighing. ‘Really, these people do let things go the minute y
our back is turned. I’ve lost several shrubs. And the weeds! Thankfully the kitchen garden seems all right. I suspect Cookie keeps an eye on that because vegetables are more useful than flowers.’
Bette turned to her sister. ‘Margie, this is magical. Magnificent. Out there . . . total jungle up on those hills. It’s such a wildly romantic setting.’
‘Wild is right,’ said Margaret. ‘I’ve had one experience wandering through the forest. No more. And I was close to civilisation, but I still felt ill at ease.’
‘I’d so love to get out there. Do you think Roland could arrange it? You wrote about the hunting trips he and his father used to make . . .’
‘Bette! You don’t know how to use a gun.’
‘I don’t mean to go shooting. Just to go and see the wilderness, experience it all. I’d love to sketch the jungle and the birds and other wildlife, and scenes in the villages, like those we passed.’
‘They’re called kampongs. Whatever for? Just relax, Bette. You’ll find there are plenty of other things to do here. We’ll go to our club, at least a couple of times each week for tennis and cards, and there will be lots of parties at the other plantations. There are heaps of single men for you to meet, but you must be careful and not get too carried away with all the attention. Be guided by Roland as to whom is suitable,’ advised Margaret.
‘I’m not looking for a husband!’ exclaimed Bette. ‘I’ll just hang around Eugene. I bet he has a million stories.’
‘Mr Elliott,’ said Margaret firmly. ‘Bette, don’t get carried away. It’s not becoming to be so gung-ho. This is, after all, just a pocket, an oasis, if you like, of civilisation in a very primitive setting.’
‘That’s what I like,’ said Bette. ‘I should have been a Victorian lady explorer.’
‘What rubbish,’ said Margaret. ‘Why don’t you have a rest before we go to the big house for drinks.’
‘I’d rather take a walk around the garden with Philip. You said that he had a swing, didn’t you?’
‘Well, don’t get all hot and bothered before we go over to the big house,’ said Margaret.
Within days, word had spread through the district among the single assistant plantation managers, army officers and young men from the civil service of the arrival of a pretty, single young woman. Attendance at the club swelled. Bette was in demand as a partner for tennis, card games and dances. She was squired around the district to picnics, into Slim River, and on other sightseeing forays by a series of young men. Everyone seemed to find her delightful company, with her ready laugh and happy nature.
Margaret was pleased that her sister was so popular, but she was also protective. Roland was amused and enjoyed teasing Bette about the young men who had found their way to Utopia, but he was careful to pay attention to make sure that the men were the right type.
Bette told Margaret how much she enjoyed being with her and doing things together that they hadn’t done since they were children. Their age difference and the fact that Margaret had left home while Bette was still at school hadn’t given them a chance to be young women together. Now, dressing for the rounds of social events, even casual occasions, Margaret remembered the rainy days she and Bette had spent playing dress-ups in Winifred’s cast-off clothes. Bette also reminded Margaret about the board games they’d played on Sunday evenings and when she found an old collection of Roland’s puzzles and games in a bookcase, she suggested that they teach Philip a simple game like snakes and ladders.
‘Oh, he’s far too young. He’d rather play marbles with the amah,’ replied Margaret.
‘I just thought it would be fun to play a game with him. Like we used to. Remember rainy days and Sunday nights after dinner?’
‘Yes. Try it if you want to. I have some crochet I want to do this afternoon.’
So Bette played with Philip at the table on the verandah, teaching him numbers and colours and letting him draw pictures with her. Just the same, she had to admit that Philip seemed just as happy playing with Ah Min, his amah, and even the laundry girl. Indeed, it seemed that there was little for Margaret to do with Philip, except to kiss him in the morning and before bed at night.
As Bette’s visit lengthened, it became clear to both Margaret and Roland that, as well as being the party-loving sister from Australia, she had a serious side to her nature. They both found Bette very self-possessed. She liked her own company as well as being sociable. It was at these times that she stole away with her sketchbook to sit quietly and draw scenes, people and daily life around the plantation.
Bette had also taken to walking to Eugene’s big house, when invited, rather than driving there with Margaret and Roland. She said that she found the twenty minute walk along the narrow dirt road through trees and cleared ground always interesting.
But the river soon became her favourite place and whenever Eugene or Roland had to go to the smokehouse where the latex was processed, or the supply store, they’d take Bette with them. She’d sit in the shade, on the riverbank with her drawing book, and do charcoal or finely detailed pencil sketches.
Once, when she walked further along the bank, she saw a crocodile surface in the middle of the river and then drift on the current, like a knotted old log, its eyes focused on her. She hurried back towards the wharf and told Roland.
‘I told you not to go too far downstream. A child from one of the villages was taken a few weeks ago,’ he said.
‘Margaret said there was a swimming spot somewhere. Is that safe?’ asked Bette.
‘It’s a bit of a trek upriver. Dad had a pagar set up in the river for swimming where a lodge had already been built. A pagar is an area fenced off by bamboo so you’re protected from the crocs. Quite a nice spot. The grass is cut down by the riverbank, and there are big shady trees. Great place to escape the heat. I haven’t taken Philip there yet. Maybe it’s time I did an inspection in the area, as we’re now experimenting with palm oil and we’ve got a new assistant manager in that section. The pagar’s out in the middle of the jungle because not much of the land has been cleared, so the accommodation at the lodge is very basic, just a big verandah and half-a-dozen or so beds.’
‘Sounds exciting. I’d love to do that.’
Roland floated the idea past Margaret but she wasn’t keen on going up-country just then because of the forthcoming Penang race meeting.
‘We’ll definitely do it before you go back to Australia. We still have a couple of months to get to the pool, but Margaret’s right. Penang first. You’ll enjoy that, too. Interesting old city,’ said Roland.
Bette had never been to the races before, so had no comparison, but it didn’t matter because she found the whole day utterly fascinating and fun. Margaret seemed more interested in people and the new Penang Turf Club than in the horses. Everyone was dressed smartly, even flamboyantly, and was out to have a good time. Roland and Eugene seemed to know everyone and there was a lot of socialising in the clubhouse and on the terrace and lawns before each race.
Roland introduced Bette and Margaret to a striking looking Chinese couple, Tony Tsang and his beautiful wife Mai Ling. Both were quite tall, very attractive and dressed immaculately. Tony Tsang wore a white suit and his wife was in a silk cheongsam. Her sleek dark hair was pulled up into a chignon held up with a jewelled pin and she wore exquisite jewellery of jade and diamonds.
‘Tony and I were at university together,’ said Roland.
‘And you live in Penang? asked Bette.
‘I’m in the family business,’ said Tony.
‘He’s the smart one. Sits in an office and doesn’t have to trudge around plantations,’ said Roland affably.
Later, Roland explained to Margaret and Bette that Tony and Mai Ling came from what were known as Peranakan families. Their ancestors had come to the Malaccan Straits from China in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and, because they were now born locally and weren’t new immigrants, they were called Peranakan. The men were referred to as baba, while the women were called nyonya. This commu
nity was very loyal to the British, because the law and order the British imposed on the colony meant that their livelihoods were secure, but they also adopted some of the ways and dress of the Malays. The basis of their wealth came originally from the sea trade their ancestors had established throughout South East Asia and many of the families were very wealthy. Mai Ling was a nyonya from a rich family that originally came from Hokkien. Tony’s family were among those Straits elite who decided that the best way forward for their families was to have their sons educated in England, and Tony had made his family very proud by winning a scholarship to Cambridge. He was, Roland assured the sisters, a very progressive businessman.
‘He certainly must be,’ said Margaret, quietly to Bette, ‘if Mai Ling’s beautiful jewellery is anything to go by.’
‘Malaya is certainly a mix of races, isn’t it, Roland?’ commented Bette.
Coming from an Anglo Saxon middle-class background, with little exposure to such diversity, Bette found it all fascinating and exotic. ‘I mean, there are native Malays, the Chinese, the Tamils from India who work on the plantation and Europeans. Your plantation seems to be a microcosm of this mix. Where do your workers come from?’
‘Heavens, Margaret, your sister is inquisitive. You never asked me these kinds of questions. Well, there is a household hierarchy. The Chinese houseboy, Ah Kit is number one in my house. The amahs are also Chinese. They are usually single women who devote themselves to the family. Kim, my old amah, still works for Father. Ah Min, Philip’s amah, is relatively young. Most of the menial work is done by Indians. The coolies who work on our plantation are Tamils while our guards tend to be Sikhs. The majority of Europeans have Malays as drivers, but Father would never have anyone except Hamid. I grew up with him and we used to play together when we were young.’
‘So loyalty is a two-way street,’ said Bette, thoughtfully.
The Tsangs had several horses running and they invited the sisters to go and see their stables. Margaret, who was sitting with a group of ladies dressed in hats, gloves and very high heels, sipping champagne beneath a vine covered trellis at the edge of a terrace, accepted the invitation and the two followed the Tsangs to the stables.