by Di Morrissey
‘About ten years ago I travelled to Cooktown and went into the rainforest and did paintings, took some photographs. I also did some of these paintings which I remembered from sketches I’d done in Malaysia, years ago. Gradually I built up a collection and the Gardens Gallery heard about my work and very kindly asked me if I’d like to exhibit.’
‘That sounds like it must have been quite an undertaking,’ said Julie. ‘You seem a very intrepid explorer.’
‘Yes. I love jungles and rainforests, but I’d like to look at the other extremes too, and see our deserts. I plan to take a trip to Alice Springs and the interior, but haven’t got around to it yet.’
‘Bette, you’re incredible!’ said Caroline. ‘We don’t want to hold you up, but we’re so impressed with your work and we’re very proud of you. If you have time tomorrow, we’d like to take you out for morning or afternoon tea. Would that suit you?’
Bette’s eyes sparkled. ‘And pump me with questions? Of course! And I want to know all about you. But what I’d prefer is that you come to me for tea. It’s quieter and more comfortable for me at my place. We can make arrangements when the speeches are over.’
Paul agreed with Caroline and Julie that Bette was so charming. ‘I was enchanted to meet her. But I think she might feel more comfortable if just you two go to her place,’ he said. ‘I’ll be fine by the pool and you can tell me all about it later.’
Bette’s apartment was on the ground floor of a large block with a parking spot close to the front door. The other apartments had balconies, but Bette’s place had a small private garden.
A young woman opened the door and greeted them, then ushered them into the large sitting room. ‘I’m Suzie. Mrs Tsang has told me about you both. How lovely for her to have relatives living in Australia. Now, what can I get everyone?’
Bette was sitting on a sofa, her feet up on a footstool. Sliding glass doors looked out onto a patio crowded with pots of orchids and tropical plants. ‘Tea, I think please, Suzie. Or would anyone rather have coffee or a cold drink?’
‘Tea is lovely, thank you. What a sweet apartment,’ said Caroline. She glanced around the room and noted the Chinese décor. There were beautiful woven rugs, embroidered cushions and silk tapestries on the walls beside framed watercolours and delicate calligraphy.
‘You work here as well?’ asked Julie, sitting beside Bette.
There was an easel in one corner and a small card table next to it, which was covered in tubes of paints, brushes and sketchbooks.
‘Only if I don’t feel like going to the studio or if inspiration strikes,’ said Bette.
‘Were you happy with the exhibition opening?’ asked Caroline.
‘Cyndi was. Apparently we sold quite a few paintings, which is good as the proceeds are going to charity. A selection is also going to the Gardens Gallery permanent collection. All this is very flattering for an old lady’s hobby.’
‘But surely you’ve drawn and painted all your life?’ asked Julie.
‘I did a lot, certainly. And I enjoyed writing. I once thought of illustrating children’s books. But circumstances changed and by the time I was married, life became very busy and I did other things.’
Suzie came in with the tea tray and Bette directed her to put it on the table. She smiled at them. ‘Please help yourselves. Now tell me a little about you both. Are you married, Julie? Do you have brothers and sisters? Are you a career girl?’
‘I have an interesting job as a marketing consultant, mainly helping companies sell themselves, so I get to travel quite a bit,’ said Julie. ‘And I’m single. My brother Adam is married and lives in the Adelaide Hills.’
‘He’s expecting my first grandchild, so I’m very excited,’ added Caroline.
‘And Caroline, you still live in Brisbane don’t you?’ asked Bette.
‘Yes. In the old family house. My husband’s job took him away from Brisbane for a while and when we got back we moved in with Mother. Paul was agreeable about it as it’s such a lovely home and so big. We looked after my mother till she died. Julie has lived in that house for most of her life.’
‘It’s a lovely tradition, maintaining the links with the place where you were born and where you grew up,’ agreed Bette. ‘I guess I subconsciously severed my links with that house when I stayed in Malaysia. I often wondered what happened to our old house in Brisbane, with the view of the bay. Old homes like Bayview get torn down too often. That’s partly why it’s important to me to know that Rose Mansion is still intact. I’m very happy that it has been so lovingly restored.’
‘When I found that Rose Mansion had been your family home, I thought about our house in Brisbane. They are both very different, but very special to our families,’ said Julie.
‘That’s why we’re currently involved in a fight to stop our house in Brisbane from being pulled down for a bypass,’ said Caroline.
‘That’s just awful. It would be a tragedy for that lovely old place to be demolished!’ exclaimed Bette. ‘Good for you for fighting to save it. I hope you succeed. There are a lot of memories connected with that house. Do you think you’ll win the battle?’
‘Mum is giving it her best shot,’ said Julie.
‘I don’t know,’ said Caroline. ‘We’ve had some encouraging news. It seems that there was a similar plan in the area previously, and it was scrapped. So if we can find out the details about why that happened, it might help us do the same thing.’
‘If you could do that, it would mean that you’re not living with uncertainty,’ said Bette.
‘Exactly. We’ve had help from a bright young man who’s good at research and we’re hoping that David can sift through the old council papers and get some clues. In fact, it was through David that we found that you had written a book about the Iban,’ said Caroline. ‘It was the first time we knew about your adventures in Sarawak,’ she continued with a smile. ‘We were terribly impressed.’
‘Goodness me! I didn’t think that there was a copy still in existence,’ said Bette. ‘That time with the Iban was a wonderful experience.’
‘Why did you write the book as Oldham and not Tsang?’ asked Caroline. ‘I liked the dedication to Philip.’
Bette was thoughtful and sipped her tea. ‘Yes. I wanted Philip to know that I hadn’t forgotten him. He was such a lovely little boy. My husband’s family was quite conservative and I didn’t want to embarrass them so I wrote my adventures under my maiden name.’ She straightened up, changing the subject. ‘Could you top up my tea please, Julie?’ She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands over the silk shirt she’d tucked into a colourful skirt. ‘So, now that you’ve told me something about yourselves, what would you like to know about me?’
Caroline glanced at Julie. ‘Where to start?’
Julie had thought about this. ‘Well,’ said Julie, ‘I’d like to know how you and Margaret got separated in Singapore. When I was on Langkawi Island I met Marjorie Carter, who was Marjorie Potts when she was a POW with you. She told me a lot about the camp, but didn’t explain how you got there. How did my grandmother end up back in Australia while you and Philip were prisoners in Sarawak?
‘Good heavens. Fancy you meeting Marjorie. How is she? I’m sorry that I didn’t keep in touch with her. Evelyn, her mother, and I were great friends. We wrote to each other for years.’
‘She’s a lovely person,’ replied Julie. ‘She’s actually bought a place in Penang and lives there a lot of the year, when it’s too cold in Scotland.’
‘I’m glad to know that Marjorie is well. Fancy her returning to live in Malaysia.’
‘I’m sure she’d love to hear from you,’ said Julie. ‘She has very warm memories of you. She told us how strong you were in that camp and how devoted you were to Philip.’
‘Yes. Perhaps you’re right. I should contact her. I remember the first time I saw Marjorie. She was a shy, gangly girl, dragging her mother’s suitcase through the camp gates. Her mother wasn’t well, which the camp conditions didn
’t help. It was a marvel she survived. So many didn’t. I remember being riveted by the sight of that suitcase. Philip and I had nothing except what we stood up in. In fact luggage was the cause of our being in that camp, now that I think about it.’
‘Why was that?’ asked Julie. ‘Perhaps before you tell us that, what was it like in Malaya before the war? Mum has told me what Gran told her, but it would be nice to hear what you thought about it.’
‘In Malaya before the war, life was certainly glamorous and social. Margaret was in with a cosmopolitan crowd. She had lots of servants. Her way of life was quite different from our life in Brisbane. In a way, I think she wanted me to visit her so that she could show off to me. I wanted to travel, climb mountains, see the pyramids but mostly I wanted to see the Far East, so I was pleased to be asked. And she and Roland certainly showed me a good time.’
‘We have a photo of you at the races with my mother,’ said Caroline.
‘Oh, yes, Margaret loved the races. She and Roland took me to race day in Penang. That was a wonderful day, I’ll never forget it. All of Malaya, at that time, seemed to be full of eligible bachelors, civil servants, planters and assistant managers out from the UK,’ said Bette with a smile. ‘I became very friendly with one of Roland’s chums, Gilbert Mason. We had some great times together. He was a very nice man.’ She looked away for a moment and then asked Julie, ‘Did you enjoy your time in Malaysia?’
‘I did. It’s a very romantic place. And it still seems wild in parts.’
‘I agree, it is romantic,’ said Bette. ‘And I loved the jungle. I went upriver once with Margaret, Roland and Gilbert. It was very beautiful and wild. Roland’s father, Eugene, was a game hunter so I heard his stories and saw his trophies. Are they still on the walls of the big house? Rubber was fetching a good price just before the war and they lived well then. Of course no one ever thought the war would touch Malaya, except Roland.’
‘So you were caught by surprise when the Japanese came down the peninsula?’ asked Caroline.
‘There was a lot of talk in those final months about the war, but the plantation seemed so far away from every thing. I remember when the Japanese attacked the north of Malaya in early December. We were all shattered. A family arrived from the north, planter acquaintances of Roland’s,’ said Bette, now looking out the French doors.
Julie and Caroline knew she wasn’t seeing her pretty patio but another place in another time.
‘They were quite traumatised and had fled for their lives with what they could throw in the car. That galvanised Roland into action. He insisted that his father, Margaret and I, and little Philip leave for the safety of Australia straight away. I remember that Eugene refused to leave. Of course the Japanese killed him when they reached Utopia. It was so sad and so brutal. Anyway, Eugene’s driver, Hamid, was to take us to Singapore, where we were to meet Gilbert who was there looking after his employer’s warehouses. He would make sure that we got onto a ship as quickly as possible.’
‘Weren’t some of the passenger ships sunk?’ asked Caroline.
‘Yes,’ said Bette. ‘But we didn’t know about that then. Anyway, there were so many rumours flying around.’ She took a sip of tea. ‘We had planned to leave Utopia first thing in the morning, but after hearing what had happened to the planter family, my sister was adamant that she should pack up as many valuables to take as she could.’
‘You mean jewellery? Personal things?’ asked Julie.
‘Roland and I persuaded her to bury some of her valuable things. She took all the cash they could round up and all her and Philip’s clothes. I took all of mine, but I didn’t have much since I was only visiting. You have no idea what Margaret crammed into the car, which was so full there was scarcely room for us all. I remember that she even had hat boxes. Philip and I were perched on top of bags in the back seat of the Oldsmobile when we finally set off later that day.’
‘I suppose the trip was pretty frightening. I read Roland’s account of his drive,’ said Julie.
‘Did you read that? How very interesting. Yes, it was very frightening. The roads were crowded as everyone was heading south towards the Johore Causeway, hoping to get across it before the Japanese cut it off. As we drove towards Singapore, we passed burning cars and buildings, people fleeing on bicycles and carrying what they could or just running blindly, with no idea where to find safety. The worst part was seeing dead and dying bodies along the road. We came upon a horrific scene of mutilated bodies where a bomb had hit a bus. There was a child, about Philip’s age, right in front of us and before we could prevent it, he saw this headless body lying in the road. Every where there was smoke and the smell of petrol fumes. It was very frightening and Philip clung to me in the back of the car. Margaret was shouting directions at Hamid, but he was magnificent and stayed calm. When a group of people blocked the road and started hammering on the car, I’m not sure whether they wanted a ride or were telling us to go back or were just frightened, it was very unnerving. Margaret told Hamid to get out of the car and get rid of them, and she shouted through the window at them. Philip was sobbing, but Hamid kept nosing the car forward. Suddenly he accelerated, and drove onto the footpath, sending people flying. They certainly got out of his way – I think he would have run them over if they hadn’t.’
‘It sounds awful,’ said Caroline.
‘When we got to Gilbert’s place, which was in one of the better areas, a bit out of town, the sky was a strange orange-yellow,’ continued Bette. ‘We fell inside, so glad to be out of the car. There were groups of people wandering rather aimlessly along the street, and a lot of shouting and crying. When Margaret saw them, she thought that the luggage might be stolen, so she made Hamid and Gilbert’s houseboy unload the car and store everything inside for the night. I held Philip who was still terrified. Gilbert explained that we’d have to go in person to the city the next morning to get tickets on one of the ships leaving Singapore. We did, and on the drive into the city, we could see that parts of Chinatown and many city buildings had been bombed. We also saw a lot of Australian soldiers. They seemed pretty cheery about the whole thing. How sad that just days later they would end up as POWs in Changi. We were lucky that Gilbert had so many contacts in the shipping industry because he managed to get us tickets on a boat that was to sail for Perth the next day. That night we had a light dinner and tried to sleep but the bombing started up in earnest. We took cover under the dining room table. At times it sounded as though the bombs were falling right next to us.’
‘So what happened the next day?’ asked Julie.
‘We found ourselves in another country. A country at war. When daylight came, we realised that although Gil’s house had not been hit, the Oldsmobile on the street had. It was crushed, and completely undriveable. Margaret kept saying what a good thing it was that she’d insisted on unloading it.
‘All that morning, the Japanese planes continued their bombing runs and the city and docks were in chaos. We were very worried that we would miss the boat, but Margaret would not leave her possessions. So Hamid packed them all into Gil’s car, which was pretty tiny. Gil insisted that Hamid drive Margaret and he would look after Philip and me. This was fair enough because Margaret’s ankle still worried her from an earlier car accident and she couldn’t walk any great distance on it.
So Margaret went off with Hamid and the luggage, while Gil, Philip and I walked until we could find some transport. Eventually, Gil persuaded a trishaw driver to take us in his little vehicle by offering him a wad of money. The driver was obviously frightened by the bombing, but business was business. There were people running everywhere, ambulances and army trucks, but they couldn’t do much as it was so crowded, smoke billowing from burning buildings, sirens going off, and everything was just in chaos. Philip was terrified and so was I. By this time Hamid was well ahead of us. Just as we were squeezing our way past a bomb crater, there was another raid and the Japanese dropped a bomb just ahead of us. A building came down right across the ro
adway. We couldn’t get around it on the trishaw, so Gil just grabbed Philip, held my hand and we started running, pushing our way through the crowd. Gil took us back up the street looking for a laneway or some way to get through to the wharf. But it was impossible. The next thing we knew there were soldiers, British and Australian, telling us to go back. Gil took no notice of them and, still carrying Philip, he doubled back and found a laneway that led to the wharf. But the ship we were to sail on wasn’t there.’
‘But Margaret had made it on board,’ finished Caroline.
Bette rubbed a hand over her eyes. ‘Yes. Poor Margaret. She told me later that it was an absolute disaster on the docks and when that last bombing raid occurred, the captain decided that it was too dangerous to wait any longer and the gangplank was raised and the ship sailed. Margaret had no idea where we were and when she looked at the horrific scenes on the docks she didn’t even know if we were dead or alive. Of course it was years before I found out that Margaret’s ship had made it safely to Australia.’
Caroline and Julie just stared at Bette.
‘How did you feel when you realised that the boat had sailed without you and Philip. What did you do?’ asked Julie.
‘Well, in a way we were lucky, thanks to dear Gilbert. As we ran down to the burning docks Gil took matters into his own hands.’
‘He sounds very resourceful,’ said Caroline.
‘He was. He saved us,’ said Bette softly. ‘Gil found a Malay with a small trading vessel. He had his wife and three children on board with him and when Gil gave him a fistful of money he let us jump on board. We were among the flotilla of small boats streaming away from Singapore in every direction, trying to escape the Japanese. We headed south towards the Dutch East Indies, hoping to land in Java. None of us had any idea just how far the Japanese would spread and Gil thought that we would find a way to get from Java back to Australia.
‘The first night we pulled into a tiny island that seemed to be uninhabited. We tried not to use any lights, though Gilbert and the boatman waded ashore with torches and caught us several good-sized crabs, which we boiled on a paraffin ring on the stern of the boat. I often recalled that delicious meal during the lean times in the camp. We anchored in a mangrove inlet and the mosquitoes were ferocious. Philip and I rolled together under some canvas and Gil sat up and kept watch. In the morning Philip was tired and cranky and very weepy. Gil took him aside and told him that he understood just how he felt, but that he had to be a little man and do everything I said until we got home to his parents. That man-to-man talk from Gil seemed to do the trick and I was forever grateful as Philip tried so hard after that not to be difficult, and he wasn’t.’