Homecoming

by Ellie Dean

  The houses don’t have names here, and Lot 23 is stuck outside this so-called town in the middle of the massive forest which Mike tells me runs right down to the St Lawrence River which is on the other side of the mountain. The house is made of huge logs, with a deep porch – or stoop as Mike calls it – and is very large with one big room for eating, living and sitting, five bedrooms and a bathroom which I don’t really trust cos of spiders and things coming in from all them trees what surround the place. There’s a generator for electricity, but all the cooking and heating comes from a range that’s got to be three times bigger than the one in your kitchen, Peggy, and is a swine to rake out every morning .

  Mike’s parents, Claudine and Gerard, are ever so nice and made me feel welcome with an enormous meal of steak and potatoes. I think they must be quite rich, because Mike’s dad owns a logging company and paper and pulping mills, and although it feels as if I’ve walked into one of them Hollywood westerns, the stuff they have here is good quality and there’s always plenty of food .

  I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do all day while Mike’s off with his father setting up the logging camp, but Claudine is nice company and there’s always housework or gardening in the vegetable plot to get on with. So nothing much has changed. I had hoped to get a job so I’d have me own money, and was going to ask them at the bar in town if they would take me on as they needed a barmaid. But Claudine said the women in her family don’t go out to work – and certainly didn’t frequent rough places like that bar – so I suppose I’ll just have to get used to being a stay-at-home wife and take up knitting or something .

  Reading this back I’ve made it sound as if I’m unhappy, but I’m all right, Peggy, really I am. It’s lovely to be Mike’s wife, and the people are ever so nice and welcoming. As long as we’re together I’ll find a way to get used to not having lots of people around me and the miles of nothing but trees. I suppose I’d better try and learn French, because Claudine and Gerard speak it all the time and when Mike joins in, I feel a bit left out .

  I hope all is well with you, and that Rita and Ivy’s weddings went off all right. I’m still waiting to hear from them, but of course they will only just have got my address .

  With lots of love ,

  Ruby xxx

  Peggy folded the letter and sat quietly for a moment to think about what Ruby had revealed. She might have professed to being all right, but it sounded as if she was lonely and homesick, and feeling very much out of place – and what a place, stuck in the middle of nowhere with only her mother-in-law for company.

  ‘Oh, Ruby,’ she sighed. ‘I do hope you come to settle there more happily. I hate the thought of you feeling so isolated.’

  ‘Talking to yourself again, Peggy?’

  She looked up, startled, and smiled at Jack. ‘At least I can have a sensible conversation that way.’ Her smile faded as she realised Jack wasn’t smiling back. In fact, his face was quite ashen, and his eyes were troubled. ‘Whatever’s the matter? Has something happened?’

  He sat down heavily at the kitchen table. ‘You could say that, Peg. Peter got notice this morning that he and Rita will be leaving on the fifth of September.’

  Peggy closed her eyes momentarily, sharing his anguish, and then gripped his arm. ‘You knew this day would come, Jack – we both did.’

  ‘It doesn’t make it any easier, Peg,’ he said, his voice breaking with emotion.

  ‘Sit there and I’ll get us both a drop of gin. There’s some left over from the other night, and I reckon we both need a pick-me-up.’

  She went to the larder for the gin and a bottle of tonic water and then hunted out a couple of tumblers. Her hand wasn’t quite steady as she sloshed the gin into the glasses, and she realised that she was as cut up as Jack about Rita leaving them.

  ‘Cheers,’ she said, tapping her glass against his. ‘Here’s to making sure Rita and Peter have the very best six days with us.’

  Jack swallowed his drink straight down and helped himself to another. ‘I’m going to miss her, Peg,’ he managed, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘She’s been my little girl for over twenty years. How am I going to get along without her?’

  ‘We’re all going to miss her, Jack,’ soothed Peggy softly. ‘But she’s no longer a little girl – she’s a woman and a wife, and we have to let her go no matter how painful it is.’

  Jack nodded and once again drained his glass. ‘I know all that, Peg, but the thought of her going so far away …’ He topped up his glass again and added just a splash of tonic water.

  ‘Drowning your sorrows won’t help,’ said Peggy, removing the bottle. ‘And if you’re planning on going back to work this afternoon, you’ll need to have your wits about you. The last thing Rita needs is for you to have an accident.’

  Jack took a deep breath, stretched his neck and eased his shoulders before he concentrated on rolling a smoke. ‘I’m sorry to make a fuss, Peg,’ he said gruffly. ‘You have your own worries, and it wasn’t fair of me to come crying to you.’

  She regarded him with deep affection. ‘You and I go a long way back, Jack, and you can come to me any time you like. Goodness knows we’ve put the world to rights ever since we were at school together, and seen each other through good times and bad. As for my worries, they’re very few really. Jim might not be here, but at least he’s not in the thick of fighting, or stuck out in some jungle somewhere.’

  She reached for his hand. ‘We’ll get through this together, Jack, just as we did all those years ago when you lost Maria.’

  He lit his cigarette, blew smoke and then sipped his drink. ‘Thanks, Peg. I knew it was right to come to you because you always say the right things.’ He looked around the shabby kitchen and smiled. ‘I’ve always loved sitting in here, you know. It’s the heart of the home and like nowhere else.’

  Peggy just managed not to blurt out that she was planning to rip the place to pieces and change the entire downstairs, and instead sipped her own drink. ‘Come whenever you want, Jack, and I insist you spend Christmas with us. I’m not having you sitting up there on your own in that bungalow with a plate of Spam and a beer.’

  ‘You’re looking a long way ahead,’ he replied with a smile.

  ‘Someone has to,’ she said, knocking back the last of her gin and tonic. ‘Christmas takes a lot of organising.’

  11

  Singapore

  It was the second day of September, and Jim and Jumbo stood with seven hundred other men in the glaring sun on the deck of the escort carrier, HMS Hunter . The massive convoy of ninety ships sailed majestically down the Strait of Malacca, passing the Raffles Lighthouse, and into Singapore Harbour with their flags fluttering and all the hooters and water cannons going. They knew they were making history and were a spectacular sight for the swarms of people watching and waving excitedly from the shore, and Jim felt his heart swell with pride. This joyous freedom was what they’d fought so long and hard for – this was their reward for being away from home and loved ones for years.

  It was an exciting moment, made even more so by the arrival of nine Royal Australian Air Force Catalinas coming in low over their heads to land on the water and slowly make their way up the beach. These were the seaplanes that carried medical supplies and personnel documents in preparation for the Japanese surrender and the liberation of thousands of POWs. The Australian ship HMAS Hawkesbury blasted its hooters in welcome, and the crew on the repatriation transport Duntroon whistled and waved.

  According to the debriefing that morning, the smaller British naval force which had sailed from Trincomalee in Ceylon had liberated Penang with very little opposition, despite the fact the Japanese surrender had come as a surprise to Itagaki, the Japanese Commander in Singapore.

  General Itagaki had evidently ordered the remnants of his army defending Singapore to resist the Allies and fight to the death – indeed, there had been rumours of orders to massacre all Allied POWs on the island – but his commanding officer had overruled h
im by following his Emperor’s orders and sending the signal of surrender to Mountbatten. It was rumoured that hundreds of Japanese officers had committed ritual suicide rather than lose face by surrendering and being taken prisoner.

  Jim, Jumbo and the others watched the show and took numerous photographs of the badly damaged Japanese destroyer and two cruisers which had been used as floating anti-aircraft batteries, and the two German U-boats that were now being held in the naval base. Cameras clicked and rolls of film were used up as a sour-faced General Itagaki, his Vice Admiral and aides were brought aboard HMS Sussex to discuss the details of the surrender, and by six that evening the British flag was raised to signal that the Japanese had surrendered their forces on the island.

  The formal and final surrender of the war throughout the Pacific would take place on the twelfth of September at Singapore City Hall, in the presence of Lord Louis Mountbatten.

  Jim had become inured to the heat and humidity of Burma’s jungles, so he was feeling quite comfortable as he disembarked early the following morning and strode along the wharf with the others to their billets. Arriving at the small hotel which had been requisitioned by the army, he dumped his bags on the bed and set off to explore the town. Taking one of the many rickshaws, he told the bare-footed Malay boy to take him to Raffles, and then sat back to enjoy the ride, marvelling at the skinny youth’s ability to haul him and the sturdy rickshaw at a run through the crowded, noisy streets.

  The evidence of war was everywhere in the dilapidated buildings, the untended gardens and rough roads, but there was an atmosphere of excitement and relief amongst the traders and those who trawled the markets for food, vegetables, trinkets and cheap second-hand clothing and furniture – and a real sense of purpose in the many army personnel already helping the new administration.

  Jim grimaced at the sight of Japanese prisoners wearing little more than loose trousers as they dug ditches and repaired the roads. They don’t look so full of themselves now , he thought, but it’s the very least they deserve after the cruelty they meted out to their own prisoners .

  As the youth ran along Beach Road, Jim was able to admire the façade of one of the world’s most famous hotels. Raffles rose two storeys high and filled an entire block behind a row of swaying palm trees. As the boy paused to let a large, official-looking car sweep out of the driveway, Jim realised that the old building had survived the years of the Japanese occupation rather well. The gardens were lush and well tended; the imposing edifice carefully maintained – no doubt because the Japanese officers wanted to experience the high life, and had turned the place into their headquarters.

  He paid the boy what seemed to be a pittance and added a bit more before tucking in his shirt and straightening his hat. The tropical uniform of shirt and shorts had been crisp and fresh when he’d put it on this morning, but it was already feeling a bit limp and sweat-stained. Thinking he might not be allowed entry to such a posh place, he hesitated, but was greeted by a smart salute from the smiling Malay concierge who opened the door for him with a white-gloved hand.

  Jim stepped into the large reception area that was cooled somewhat by many ceiling fans, and realised that everyone else looked as hot and uncomfortable as he felt, and that the place seemed to be heaving with army officials, and rather harassed women who were dashing about with clipboards and armfuls of brown cardboard folders. As no one took any notice of him, he decided to have a wander about and see for himself why this place had made such a name for itself.

  Having strolled through the crowded bar, the dining room which could seat five hundred people, the magnificent ballroom and elegantly appointed and hushed billiard room, he then made his way into the Palm Court. Looking at the lush palms, the silent-footed, bowing servants, the comfortable rattan furniture and fancy lighting, he could just imagine the rich and famous lolling about here, and got a glimpse of how it must have been for the wealthy ex-pats who’d come to socialise and be seen in these grand and luxurious surroundings. This was a world far removed from Beach View and Cliffehaven, and he finally understood how difficult Sarah and Jane must have found it to settle in after experiencing all this.

  With that thought, he headed back to the reception area and asked the smiling Malay behind the desk where he could find the person in charge of repatriating the British POWs.

  He followed the man’s directions and eventually found his way to the small back office and tapped on the door. Receiving a brisk response, he stepped inside and was met by a scene of utter chaos.

  Files and folders were piled up on every flat surface and stood teetering on the floor. A ceiling fan distributed the muggy heat in a desultory fashion, and although there was a bamboo blind pulled down over the single open window, the sun’s glare easily penetrated the thin, damaged strips, sending shards of brilliant light across the mess.

  The dark-haired woman behind the overloaded desk looked up at him over her glasses and gave an impatient tut. ‘I don’t know what you want, but I probably don’t have it,’ she said abruptly. ‘I hope you’re the assistant I’ve been promised, because if I don’t get help soon, I shall be buried beneath this lot, never to be found again.’

  Jim took off his hat and smiled down at her, thinking that if she hadn’t looked so tired and fraught, she would have reminded him of Peggy. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m here for personal reasons,’ he said. ‘I’ve just come to ask about two British POWs.’

  She sat back in the creaking chair and gave a sigh as she took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. ‘You and everyone else,’ she said sadly. ‘Look around you, Lieutenant. Every file here holds at least a dozen names, and unless the people you’re looking for were imprisoned here on the island or in Changi, I’m very much afraid I can’t help you.’

  Jim saw the shadows beneath her tired eyes and the lines of stress around her mouth. It was clear she was barely coping and probably hadn’t slept or eaten properly in days. ‘The name’s Jim Reilly,’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Elsa Bristow,’ she replied, shaking his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Jim, but as you can see, I’m snowed under – and it will probably get even worse once they start bringing in the POWs from the camps.’

  ‘But surely you’re not handling this all on your own?’ he gasped.

  She shot him a weary smile. ‘Not entirely – although it does feel like it at times. I have several secretaries, but unfortunately those really in charge find paperwork irksome and prefer to deal with other, more interesting things.’

  She cocked her head and regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Who were you looking for?’

  ‘John Angus Charles Fuller – who was known as Jock and was a plantation manager in Malaya, and Philip Tarrant, the owner of the plantation.’

  ‘I remember them both very well,’ she murmured and gave a weary sigh. ‘I’m sorry to hear they didn’t get out in time – but my husband did write and tell me they’d managed to get Jock’s wife and daughters on ships before Singapore fell.’

  Jim nodded. ‘Sarah and Jane came to live with me and my wife in England, and with so little news coming out of this part of the world, they’re frantic to learn what happened to their father and Sarah’s fiancé.’

  ‘And their mother, Sybil?’

  ‘She and the baby got passage to Australia and she’s living with her parents in Cairns. But my wife tells me they’re all planning to come here to look for Jock and Philip.’

  She sat straighter in the creaking chair. ‘Then you should send a telegram immediately to stop them,’ she said firmly. ‘This place is overrun as it is, and will soon be even worse. The last thing any of us needs is distraught relatives clogging up the place.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ he replied, surveying the chaotic filing system.

  Elsa put her glasses back on. ‘I’m sorry if I come across as blunt, but you can see how it is, Jim. This is no place for Sybil or her girls, but I will certainly do my best to track Jock and Philip down, even if it means the worst news possible. S
end that telegram today, Jim. It would be best for all concerned.’

  Realising he would get no further for the moment, he smiled. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

  He strode out of the office and made his way to the dining room where he collared a waiter and ordered a pot of tea, a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of fruit – it seemed fruit grew in abundance here and the selection was positively mouth-watering. While he waited, he drank a Singapore Sling from a tall, frosted glass, and then ordered another on the waiter’s return before following the man back to Elsa’s office.

  She looked up at him in astonishment.

  ‘I thought this might perk you up a bit,’ he said, clearing a space on the desk for the waiter to unload the tray. ‘All work and no play isn’t good for anyone.’

  Elsa’s eyes were suspiciously bright as she surveyed the simple meal. ‘How very kind you are,’ she murmured.

  Jim paid the waiter, and once he’d closed the door behind him, he shifted the toppling stack of files off a chair and sat down. ‘Please, eat and enjoy it, and try to relax. You’re as bad as my Peggy, getting all wound up like a clock and forgetting to take care of yourself.’

  Elsa’s broad smile made her look instantly younger and rather attractive, and she tucked hungrily into the delicate chicken sandwiches which had been cut into triangles, the crusts carefully removed.

  ‘Tell me about your Peggy, Jim,’ she said once the initial pangs of hunger were satisfied. ‘How long is it since you’ve been home?’

  ‘Too long,’ he replied. Sipping the refreshing Singapore Sling, he told her about his family, his home, the evacuees they’d taken in, and the town of Cliffehaven. He glossed over the part he’d played during the Burma Campaign and the medals he’d been awarded, and once she’d eaten her fill and shared the fruit with him, he lit cigarettes for them both and asked about her war.