by Clare Flynn
Arthur’s lips stretched into a mirthless smile. ‘Doug knows. He doesn’t care a jot about such things. But no one else has a clue. No one in Malaya has ever guessed that she has a less than perfect pedigree.’ He laughed drily. ‘In fact, they probably think she married beneath her station with me.’
Evie said nothing. Everything she had understood to be truth was imploding.
‘What I’m about to tell you no one else knows. Not even Doug. Can I trust you?’
She nodded, feeling miserable.
‘One of her mother’s clients…’ Arthur turned his head away from her. ‘One of them interfered with Veronica when she was only twelve. Look, Evie, I’m not going to beat about the bush – he raped her.’
Evie was shocked. It was hard to comprehend something so horrible happening to Veronica. ‘That’s horrible – she was a child!’
‘She ran away and was found on the streets and brought up in an orphanage by missionaries. Despite what happened – or maybe because of it –Veronica has a core of steel. She worked hard and eventually talked her way into a job in the typing pool in the District Commissioner’s Office.
‘She was a good worker and already knew how to project herself in a positive light – she charmed the DC.’ Arthur paused, brushing sand off his leg as he gazed out to sea. ‘You have to understand something else about Veronica, what happened to her made her promiscuous. It’s a compulsion with her, as though she believes her only value lies in her body and men’s appreciation of it. She’ll sleep with a man she despises, because knowing she’s desired makes her feel better about herself.’ He looked up at Evie. ‘But the truth is she despises herself.’
‘That’s awful. But why did you marry her?’ Evie could hear the resentment in her own voice.
He scratched the back of his palm, evidently nervous telling her all this.
‘We were friendly. But no more so than with anyone else in the office. Then one evening, after everyone had gone home, I found her crying. She thought she was alone in the office.’ He stopped, frowning. ‘Or maybe she wanted me to think she’d thought she was alone.’ He gave a dry laugh.
‘It all came out. She’d been having an affair with the DC. A man in his fifties. Married with children of course. And she’d just found out she was pregnant.’
Evie gasped. ‘Had she told her boss?’
‘At that point, no. I urged her to tell him the next day.’
He got up and started pacing back and forth in front of Evie as he spoke. ‘The next morning the DC summoned me into his office. Veronica was already in there. He was angry that Veronica had confided in me about what had happened. Otherwise he’d probably have dismissed her and hushed the whole affair up. He said if I ever told anyone what had actually happened between them my career would be over.’
Evie opened her mouth.
‘But if I were willing to marry Veronica, he’d recommend me for promotion to a dream posting, as long as it was far away from Kenya.’
‘He said all that? Just like that? What did Veronica say?’
‘Nothing. She sat there in silence, looking at the floor.’
‘So what did you say?’
‘I told the DC I wanted to stay in Africa. I wanted to be promoted on my own merit.’
‘And?’
‘He told me if it was based on merit I’d have been promoted two years earlier and unless I married Veronica and got her out of his way I’d continue to be overlooked. Not an ounce of remorse. He bumbled on about about how he’d been caught on a sticky wicket and that things had gone further than he’d intended. The fact that he was Veronica’s boss and married with five children had no apparent bearing on the matter. The unspoken implication was that Veronica was a latter-day Jezebel.’
Evie bit her tongue – her saying that it was a pretty accurate description was unlikely to be well received.
‘I was stunned. I asked Veronica what she wanted to do. She said she wanted to marry me. Begged me to agree. So I did.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not proud of it. I was young, foolish and in need of a wife. She was alone, pregnant and facing the certain loss of her job.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
Arthur was still pacing up and down. ‘We left Nairobi a few weeks later, as man and wife. Veronica set out to make my career advancement her personal mission. She became the perfect administrator’s wife, playing the part so well she’s forgotten where fiction and reality meet. I’m the only one who’s ever seen the other side of her: the frightened little girl whose childhood was stolen by a drunk in a filthy Nairobi shanty. I’m the only one who ever witnesses her when the black cloud descends and she’s filled with self-loathing to the point where she sometimes wants to take her own life.’
‘She’s tried to kill herself?’
‘Threatened to.’ He shook his head. ‘But I’ve no doubt she’d do it if it came to it.’
‘What about the pregnancy?’
His face clouded. ‘Veronica lost the baby. And she can’t have any more. She saw that as a punishment. Another reason to hate herself.’
Evie felt a twinge of guilt, remembering how she had put Veronica on the spot the night before about her and Arthur being childless.
Arthur reached for his towel. ‘So that’s why I can’t leave her. Why I can’t abandon her. It would be placing a sentence of death upon her.’ He rubbed the towel through his hair. ‘But it’s not only that. We’re both selfish and ambitious and, if I’m honest, I’m more so than she is. The truth is I recognised in Veronica something in myself – a burning desire to better herself. I don’t love her. I never have. She doesn’t love me either. We don’t even sleep together. That’s another thing. Despite her promiscuity, Veronica doesn’t actually like that side of things. I live like a monk.’
He looked up above their heads into the dark interior of the casuarina tree, then dropped his gaze again to meet hers. ‘You are the only person on earth I’ve told about all this, Evie. My marriage to Veronica is a form of mutualism – we have a symbiotic relationship. If I were to leave her it would also be the end of my career. They don’t like divorced men in the civil service.’
He pulled his trousers on over his sun-dried trunks and said, ‘I have to go. I’m already late. I’m sorry.’ Giving her a tight-lipped smile, he turned and made his way along the beach towards the glint of metal through the trees which was his car.
Evie felt numb. Yet at the same time, relieved. She told herself that what had happened in the sea had been a flash of madness. They had both been caught up in the moment, and now she had to put it behind her.
Arthur Leighton had gone out of his way to try to make it hard for Evie to feel anything for him. He had tried to persuade her he was a selfish, ambitious man who had put his career before everything else. But she sensed his main rationale for taking on Veronica had been compassion. The idea of Arthur as a cold and ruthless careerist didn’t square with everything else she knew about the man who had just held her in his arms and kissed her passionately.
There was something corrupting about Malaya. A sense of decay. Something that made even the most decent of people lose their moral code. Just thinking about the oddness of the Leightons’ marriage made her feel queasy. She reminded herself that her own was no less odd and had also been born out of pragmatism not love.
14
A few days later, looking for distraction from her almost constant thoughts of Arthur Leighton, Evie collected Jasmine after school for a visit to the Waterfall Garden, the botanical garden on the outskirts of George Town. They wandered through the tropical paradise of winding footpaths, colourful flowers and waterfalls, with wild monkeys screaming as they swung through the trees. Jasmine had never visited the place before and was delighted to see the monkeys at close quarters.
They lost track of time and had to hurry back towards where Benny would be waiting for them in the motor car. Jasmine skipped along beside Evie and after a few minutes she reached up and took her hand.
‘I’d like you to be m
y mummy, but I don’t want you to die.’
Evie pulled up short, horrified. She bent down beside the little girl and scooped her into her arms. ‘Of course I won’t die, Jasmine. What on earth gave you that idea?’
‘I’m the only girl in my class at school who doesn’t have a mummy. Betty Foster says my mummy lost the will to live. She said her mummy told her.’
‘What nonsense. Betty must be a very silly girl. Your mother got sick and that’s why she died. It’s terribly sad, but it does happen to people. Remember how I told you my daddy had died as well?’
‘Did he get sick, too?’
Evie swallowed, hating to lie to Jasmine, but she couldn’t possibly tell her what actually happened. Anyway he was sick – sick in the head to do something so stupid. She nodded. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Were you a little girl?’
‘Not as young as you. But still a girl.’
Jasmine’s arms went up around Evie’s neck and clung to her tightly. ‘I thought I didn’t want a new mummy.’ The big eyes narrowed and the rosebud mouth formed a pout. ‘But I changed my mind. Will you be my new mummy, Evie?’
Tears sprung to Evie’s eyes. ‘I’d like that very much indeed.’
‘And can I call you Mummy?’
’Nothing would make me happier.’
Satisfied, Jasmine dropped her arms and took her stepmother’s hand. ‘Come on, Mummy, before it gets dark.’
That afternoon proved to be another turning point in her relationship with Jasmine. Evie found herself looking forward to the child’s homecoming from school each day and she relished the chance to spend time with the little girl. Jasmine was clearly desperate for affection but there was still a slight caution, as if she was nervous that Evie, like Felicity, might suddenly disappear from her life. Evie wondered what Jasmine had meant when she’d told her that Felicity had been mean to her. If only there were someone she could ask. She was afraid to bring it up with Douglas. The obvious person would have been Arthur, but after what had happened between them, he’d be going out of his way to avoid seeing her alone and it wasn’t something she could ask him about in company.
Douglas returned to the house the following Sunday morning and told her he would be staying for one night and they would be spending the evening with the Leightons at the Eastern & Oriental hotel, where every Sunday evening the house orchestra performed a concert on the lawns. His manner was brusque, businesslike, as though he were addressing an employee, not the woman he had made love to with uncharacteristic tenderness only a week before.
‘Will anyone else be going?’
‘No. Just the four of us. It’s my birthday. September 3rd.’
‘Oh my goodness. I’d no idea, Doug. I haven’t got you a gift.’
His voice was a snarl. ‘I don’t want a gift. I’m not a schoolboy.’
‘But if it’s your birthday.’
‘It doesn’t mean I want a gift.’
It was another punch in the stomach. She didn’t feel like a wife at all. The way he spoke to her was more suited to his assistants or his housekeeper. Curt. Snappy.
Arguing was pointless. ‘How old are you?’ she asked lamely.
He looked upwards and sighed. ‘Forty-three. And before you ask, I don’t want a cake with candles on it either.’
She took a sharp intake of breath. ‘I wouldn’t presume.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m going to play a round of golf. Be ready for seven. We’ll have dinner at the E&O before the concert.’ He started to walk out of the room, then looked back at her and added, ‘Wear that dress again. The one you wore for the dinner.’
Fuming, she sat down, her hands on her thighs to steady her shaking. Not a how-are-you?, not even a question about Jasmine – and certainly not a touch or a kiss. She was starting to think she was married to two different men.
Taking a deep breath, she told herself that at least he’d noticed the dress and must have liked her in it.
She went out into the garden to find Jasmine, who was busy telling stories to her dolls.
When they walked past the giant floral displays of birds of paradise and protea, into the elegant restaurant at the Eastern & Oriental, the Leightons were waiting at the table. Evie was nervous about being in their company for the first time since her afternoon on the beach with Arthur, hoping her face wouldn’t give away her tangled emotions. The prospect of being near to Arthur filled her with both dread and exhilaration. No matter how many times she had replayed their kiss in her head it still seemed like a dream – but a dream that set her heart racing and filled her with a desperate longing to experience it again.
But all personal concerns soon fled. Arthur rose from the table to greet them, his face furrowed. Even Veronica looked pale and edgy.
‘We declared war on Germany today.’ Arthur’s mouth was drawn into a tight line.
‘When?’ Douglas gave a little shake of the head. ‘We knew it was coming.’
‘Less than an hour ago. Eleven in the morning in London. The PM’s speech was on the wireless but there was so much static it was barely comprehensible.’ He reached into his jacket pocket and handed Douglas a sheet of paper. ‘Here’s the transcript.’
Douglas scanned it rapidly before handing it back to Arthur, who turned at once to Evie and offered it to her. The words ‘no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany’ were stark. While it was true that the prospect of another war in Europe had seemed an inevitability for a long time, being far away in Malaya had made it feel remote and removed.
Arthur said, ‘I have to go back to the office after dinner. I can’t stay for the concert. Sorry.’
Evie was alarmed. ‘Surely the war won’t affect us out here, will it?’
Arthur’s expression was grim. ‘It affects the whole empire. Many people will want to go home to assist with the war effort. Plans have to be made. And…’ He glanced at Douglas. ’The whole situation is volatile. The Japanese–‘
‘The Japanese are too busy with China,’ Douglas interrupted. ‘They’ll never attack us here. They’d have to be insane. The jungle is our protection. Not to mention Fortress Singapore.’
Arthur shook his head. ‘I don’t want to argue with you, Doug. But I simply don’t agree. We know they want Malaya. They want the tin and they want the rubber. They’ve had spies all over the Straits for years. And they could come at us from the north. From the Siamese – sorry I keep forgetting it’s Thai now – border. The situation is extremely volatile.’
Doug sneered. ‘From the north? No one would be mad enough to do that.’
Veronica interjected. ‘I find all this talk of war very depressing, don’t you, Evie? And I agree with Dougie. Hitler’s too far away to worry about, and a bunch of Japs are never going to have the guts to invade. I have faith in our army and air force. Not to mention the strength of the Royal Navy. Britannia rules the waves.’
She leaned forward, her hands with their perfectly manicured nails, resting on the edge of the table. ‘We seem to have forgotten today is Dougie’s birthday and we have to celebrate. We can’t let a rotten old war get in the way.’ With a wave of her hand, she summoned the waiter, who arrived at the table with a bucket of champagne. As he poured the drinks, Veronica added, ‘My main concern is that with France at war too, the supplies of “shampers” may get rather low.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘So, let’s drink and be merry, while we can.’
Arthur’s face showed a flicker of irritation but he said nothing.
Veronica leaned forward again, glass raised to drink Doug’s health. She pressed a small box into his hand. ‘A little birthday gift from me and Artie. Hope you like them.’
‘I told you, Veronica. No gifts.’
‘Do shut up, Dougie, and open it, you old spoil-sport.’
The box contained a pair of monogrammed gold cuff links.
‘The date’s on them too, so it looks like you’ll have a permanent reminder of the day war wa
s declared.’ Veronica sipped her champagne. Turning to Evie, she asked, ‘And what did you give to your handsome husband?’
Evie felt her face burning, but was saved from having to answer by the arrival of a man at their table. He asked Arthur about the state of play with the war declaration. Once introductions were made – Bob Cameron was the local chief of one of the shipping lines and Evie realised he was the father of Jasmine’s friend Penny – the waiter arrived to take their orders and Evie avoided having to admit that she hadn’t known it was her husband’s birthday.
After Cameron left, the conversation remained on the subject of war.
‘Are many people likely to return to England to fight?’ Evie asked Arthur.
He shrugged. ‘A lot of chaps want to give Hitler a bloody nose, but to be honest, the war effort is best served by staying here producing rubber and tin. We’ll be needing a lot more in the coming months.’
Evie glanced at Douglas, who said nothing.
‘One thing that will be happening though, is stepping up the training of the volunteer forces. More TEWTs.’
‘What’s that?’ Evie asked.
‘Tactical Exercises Without Troops.’
‘More like Trivial Exercises to Waste Time.’ Douglas was clearly not in the best of moods.
‘One of the problems is that many of my colleagues seem to fear Communism more than they fear the Japanese,’ said Arthur, ignoring him. ‘Worried that Communists are stirring up the workforce.’
‘Not my workforce.’ Douglas leaned back in his chair, arms folded.
‘His Majesty’s government persists in trying to keep on the right side of the Japanese.’ Arthur shook his head. ‘And that’s in spite of the fact that we’ve known for years that this country is crawling with Japanese spies. There have been enough Japanese pearl-fishers to have mapped every cove and inlet of the entire peninsula. But we let them get away with it under our noses.’
Veronica groaned. ‘Boring.’
Ignoring her, Arthur went on. ‘The government’s also standing back and letting the Japs buy up most of our iron ore, regardless of the fact they’re turning it into armaments.’