by Clare Flynn
She and Douglas began to share a bed again after a couple of months had passed. He was nervous, tentative around her, afraid that making love might harm the baby, even though she reassured him that the doctor said it would be fine. There had been no further blood spotting and the doctor had said, as long as they were careful there was no reason not to continue having sexual relations until about six weeks before the birth. Yet there was no excitement in their lovemaking. If anything, it had returned to the mechanical motions of the early days of their marriage and became less frequent as time went on and her pregnancy advanced. Evie suspected that he found her inflated body and swollen belly unappealing. For her part, his presence in bed was tiresome – the heat was bad enough without his body beside hers making it worse.
By April, Evie was seven months pregnant and feeling increasingly tired, when an invitation arrived from Rowena and Bertie Cameron for the three Barringtons to attend a party at the Penang Club. The occasion was the couple’s tenth wedding anniversary. Remembering what Mary had told her about Bertie’s affair, Rowena’s drinking and the constant fighting, Evie was surprised that they’d decided to mark the occasion.
‘Do we have to go to this, Doug?’ she asked. ‘I barely know them.’
‘Of course, we do,’ he snapped. ‘Bertie Cameron is the tuan of the biggest shipping company in the Straits. I need to stay on the right side of him. It’s good for business.’
That was always Douglas’s retort if she raised an objection to anything. Evie suspected that he used business as an excuse for retiring to his study and avoiding any pressure to converse. Yin and Yang she reminded herself. Respect the differences. Besides, how could she possibly deprive Jasmine of going to the party when Penny was her best friend?
Surely she could put on a brave face, grit her teeth and get through one afternoon there. And it was only the afternoon, with the assumption that people would go on elsewhere in the evening. While the grownups were drinking cocktails and eating canapés, there was to be a tea party for the children, complete with a conjuror. As soon as Douglas mentioned this to Jasmine, the little girl began bouncing up and down on her chair in excitement.
By the time the day of the party arrived, Evie felt like a whale on legs. Walking was akin to waddling, and her confidence – never high when in the vicinity of the club – was at rock bottom. Her pale yellow frock pinched under the arms and flattened her over-large breasts uncomfortably, but she had nothing else she could squeeze into that was suitable for a formal party during the day. Looking at herself in the mirror, she frowned at what she saw. Weren’t women supposed to bloom in pregnancy? She felt like a wilting flower. The primrose yellow of the dress made her appear jaundiced and washed out. A frump. That’s what she looked like. She told herself she didn’t care. Those shallow people could sneer if they wished.
The gathering was huge. Everyone who was anyone in Penang was there and the party had already spilled out onto the club lawns, when the Barringtons arrived. No expense had been spared. There were huge silver tureens filled with ripe juicy strawberries that someone told Evie had been specially flown in from Australia. Champagne flowed and flunkies moved between the guests ensuring their glasses were always full. Evie wished she could join the children instead – they were all sitting cross-legged on the side lawn, drinking orangeade and eating Eskimo Pies while the conjuror entertained them. A glass of iced water, a choc ice and somewhere to sit would be preferable to champagne and strawberries and milling around making polite conversation with people she barely knew.
Amidst the throng, she spotted Mary Helston. It was unusual to see Mary at the club but, of course, as the Camerons’ next door neighbour she had felt obliged to accept their invitation. Mary was deep in conversation with a man in airforce uniform. Evie had never seen him before. Perhaps this might be the beginning of a romance for her friend.
Setting her champagne flute down, she asked one of the waiters if she might have some water or a glass of fruit juice. Douglas had melted into the crowd and she could see the top of his head as he talked with Bertie Cameron and Reggie Hyde-Underwood. She looked around to see if she could spot Susan Hyde-Underwood but there was no sign of her. No doubt the fortunate woman had been able to use her young baby as a reason for not attending.
Edging to the side of the crowd, Evie thought she’d slip inside the club building and try to find somewhere to sit underneath a cooling fan. A hand tapped her on the arm and she turned. It was Dorothy Rogers.
‘Evie, how delightful to see you here.’ The woman looked her up and down. ‘And don’t you look well. Positively blooming! When are you due?’
‘Late June. Possibly early July.’
‘Ooh, not long! Well, congratulations, my dear. You look frightfully well on it. I’m delighted for you and Doug.’
‘Is Clifford here?’
Dorothy nodded her head in the direction where Doug was. ‘He’s just spotted your husband so he shot off to put the world to rights with him. No doubt he’ll be complaining about the lack of preparation for the possibility of war here. It’s all Clifford ever talks about these days. Is Doug the same?’
‘Not really. He’s very much of the school of thought that Malaya’s impossible to invade. Although he doesn’t seem to have a lot of faith in the armed forces if it does happen.’
Dorothy shook her head in silent acknowledgement of the last point.
‘Arthur Leighton says Sir Shenton Thomas is a decent chap,’ said Evie, of the Governor. ‘But none of them seem to take the threat to the Settlements seriously. I do hope they’re right.’
‘Men always seem more interested in scoring points off each other.’ Dorothy nudged Evie’s arm. ‘It’d be a different story if we girls were running things! I always say, if you want to get a job done, ask a woman!’
‘There are so many people here,’ said Evie, changing the subject. ‘Do you know the Camerons well?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Dorothy gave her a wink.
‘I’ve only met them a couple of times but Jasmine plays with their daughter, Penny.’
‘I suppose you know Rowena and Bertie are daggers drawn?’
‘I had heard something on those lines.’
‘God knows why they’re throwing a party to celebrate their marriage. They’d be better off holding a wake.’ Dorothy rolled her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t gossip but some of these people deserve all they get.’ She looked at Evie with concern. ‘But you must be exhausted standing around like that, Evie, when you’re carrying a baby. Let’s go inside and find somewhere quiet to sit down and have a natter.’
‘Dorothy, you’re a mind reader. And it had better be somewhere near the ladies’ room. I have to go rather frequently.’
‘You don’t need to remind me. I had five of the little blighters. I spent my life running for the lavatory. But you’ll soon see it was all worth it.’
They started to move towards the building, passing a few yards away from Mary Helston, who was still in deep conversation with the uniformed man. Evie waved at her friend but didn’t interrupt, pleased that she was evidently having a pleasant time and enjoying the company of the stranger.
Inside, she and Dorothy found a spot with some chairs, secluded behind a line of tall potted ferns, where there was a through draught from the lawns to the open front doors. An enormous ceiling fan was whirling and added to the cooling effect. Seated, they carried on chatting. A waiter brought them drinks – an orange juice for Evie.
Evie thanked Dorothy for recommending the swimming club. ‘It’s my special treat. I try to swim most days.’
‘Lucky girl. When I had my first two we were in the middle of nowhere with no swimming pool within driving distance. I used to fill the bathtub with cold water and sit in it for ages.’ She laughed. ‘Fortunately, when I was expecting my third we were in Singapore and the swimming club there was a godsend.’
‘Here you are! I wondered where you were heading off to.’ Mary Helston emerged from behind the ferns. ‘A n
ice quiet spot. Away from the throng. Very wise.’ She glanced towards the RAF man who was still accompanying her. ‘May I introduce Frank Hyde-Underwood. You must know his brother Reggie, who works for Mr Barrington. Frank, this is my dear friend, Evie Barrington.’
Evie shook the man’s hand and introduced him and Mary to Dorothy Rogers.
Frank Hyde-Underwood looked nothing like his brother. Older, he didn’t share the florid complexion and tendency to chubbiness of Reggie. Tall, of slim build, with a small moustache, he was a good-looking man. He told Evie he was stationed at the airfield at Butterworth.
Frank and Mary sat on the sofa opposite the two women and the four chatted. Frank was clearly enchanted by Mary – although Mary’s own expression gave nothing away. Evie mentally crossed her fingers that perhaps he might penetrate the teacher’s self-protective armour. Mary Helston deserved to have someone to make a fuss of her.
The ferns parted and Veronica Leighton’s head peered though. ‘Hiding in the corner are you, Evie?’ she said. Her voice was slurred, indicating she’d already had too much to drink. ‘Not that I blame you, in your state. You must be terribly hot having to drag all that bulk around. Are you sure it isn’t twins? You look like a ship in full sail.’ She gave a supercilious laugh.
Frank Hyde-Underwood raised his eyebrows. ‘I think Mrs Barrington looks very elegant.’
‘And who are you?’ Veronica’s voice was arch and flirtatious. ‘How could I have possibly missed such a handsome man? Are you new to Penang? I do so love a man in uniform.’
Before anyone could respond, Veronica had moved around the clump of ferns. When the RAF man rose politely, she slipped onto the sofa between him and Mary Helston. She sat twisted sideways, with her knees touching the airman’s, her back turned on Mary.
Anger rose in Evie. How could Veronica do that? And to Mary of all people. Before she could say anything, Mary was on her feet and, muttering that she had forgotten something, rushed away. Evie hauled herself up to follow her, and saw that Frank was about to do the same, but Veronica had a restraining hold of his arm. As Evie passed her, her foot caught Veronica’s and she slipped, sending the contents of her glass of orange juice over Veronica’s white silk dress.
Evie gasped, ‘Awfully sorry, Veronica, I don’t know how that happened.’
Veronica let out a wail. ‘You clumsy great lump! It’s ruined. My frock is absolutely ruined.’
Dorothy Rogers fished in her handbag and produced a linen handkerchief. ‘Here you are, Veronica. Why don’t we go to the powder room and get some cold water on that. I’m sure we can get most of it off.’
The wailing continued as Dorothy took hold of Veronica’s elbow and marched her away.
Evie turned to Frank. ‘I think I need to make myself scarce. I’d better go and confess what’s happened to Veronica’s husband and maybe you will want to find Mary.’
The man looked grateful. They walked together towards the open French doors. ‘I think I owe you a debt of gratitude for rescuing me, Mrs Barrington.’ He winked at her. ‘What a dreadful woman.’
Arthur was in conversation with a man Evie didn’t know. Uncomfortable about interrupting him, she tried to catch his eye. He looked across and she lifted her hand and beckoned him, hoping that he would be able to extricate himself. A few moments later he was at her side.
‘Are you all right, Evie? What’s the matter?’
‘I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident. I tripped and managed to spill orange juice all over Veronica’s dress. I don’t think she’s too happy and will probably want to go home and change.’
Arthur raised his eyebrows and sighed. ‘I can imagine. Thanks for telling me, Evie. Where is she?’
‘With Dorothy Rogers in the ladies’ room. I’d go and tell her you’re waiting, only I think I’m the last person she’ll want to see.’
‘No problem. I’ll find someone else to fish her out.’ He was about to move off when he asked, ‘Are you all right yourself, Evie? I haven’t seen you for ages.’ His expression was sad.
Evie felt her stomach flip. Why did he always have this effect on her?
‘I’m fine. I didn’t spill the drink deliberately. I caught her foot and tripped.’
‘You mean she put her foot out and tripped you.’
‘Surely not! No. I can’t believe she did that.’ She hesitated. ‘I didn’t intend to spill my drink all over her, but I can’t say I’m unhappy that it happened. Veronica was about to do it again. To Mary Helston. Mary was with an RAF officer and they seemed awfully happy talking to each other. Then Veronica came along and… well… you can imagine.’
He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Yes. You can spare me the details.’ He gave her one of his sad-eyed smiles. ‘Thank you, Evie.’ He touched her arm and a shiver of electricity ran through her.
‘I’d better see if Mary’s RAF officer has found her again.’
‘Maybe I’ll see you later?’ Then he was gone.
Evie was relieved to see Frank and Mary standing together in the shade of a tree talking intently. There was no mistaking it, the officer was keen on her and, as far as Evie could tell, Mary seemed to like his company too. Rather than butt in on their conversation, she went to join Douglas.
As she was walking across the lawn, a commotion began behind her. Evie looked round and saw Veronica running over the grass towards her, pushing people out of her way as she went. Indignant voices and spilled drinks marked her rapid progress over the club grounds. When she was in front of Evie, she pulled up, pointing her finger.
‘You did it on purpose. You poured a drink over me. You’re jealous because you’re like a great big whale and your husband can’t stand the sight of you.’ She stood right in front of Evie, her face contorted, her eyes bloodshot, with dirty smudges of mascara underneath them. ‘You’re trying to steal my husband. Well, you can’t have him. So get lost. Go back to England. No one wants you here. Not even your husband. Once you’ve popped that baby out he’ll be going straight back to his little housekeeper.’ Angry tears rolled down Veronica’s face.
Evie stared at her in abject horror. How did she know about Doug’s affair with his housekeeper? Had she been wrong to trust Arthur?
Doug appeared at Evie’s side. This provoked more anger from Veronica.
She spun round to face him. ‘Yes. I know all about your sordid little affair. I stopped by Arthur’s office and overheard you telling him. So don’t even try to deny it, Doug.’
All around them, people were watching in silent disbelief. This kind of display never happened at the august Penang Club. If the crowd had expected an upset that afternoon it would have been from the Camerons, but the two of them, like everyone else were staring in astonishment at Veronica, Doug and Evie.
Arthur Leighton pushed through the crowd and took his wife’s arm and drew her away. ‘Show’s over, people. Veronica isn’t feeling well,’ he said, and led her away to their car.
For a moment there was a horrified silence, before the band, which had been playing quiet waltzes, struck up a lively dance tune and people drifted back into their groupings.
Douglas looked at Evie. ‘I think it’s time we went home too. I’ll go and fetch Jasmine.’
‘She isn’t going to be pleased. She’s watching the conjuror.’ Evie looked in the direction of the large group of children.
‘That’s too bad, because we’re going.’ He turned on his heel and went off to collect his daughter.
Evie waited, uncertain what to do next. Mrs Rogers appeared at her elbow. ‘That woman’s got a screw loose. I’ve always thought so. I don’t know how her husband puts up with her. She’s a walking nightmare.’
Evie looked at her. ‘Honestly, Dorothy, I didn’t do it deliberately. I tripped and my hand slipped.’
‘Well, you jolly well should have done it deliberately. She got what she was asking for, the trollop. I’m sure it must have been the hand of God guiding you.’ Addressing the nearest people in a loud voice, she said, ‘I
saw exactly what happened and I’m afraid Mrs Leighton doesn’t emerge from this well.’ Her voice was full of authority and a few people smiled at Evie in sympathy.
‘I’m afraid I’ve probably upset Doug now,’ Evie said quietly to Mrs Rogers.
‘Not if he has any sense. Everyone knows the woman has had it coming to her for a long time.’
23
They drove home in silence, Doug’s face set hard. Evie knew it was because of what Veronica had said about her trying to steal Arthur, rather than the references to his own infidelity. She decided to say nothing. Why should she? She had nothing to explain as it wasn’t true.
The following morning, Evie was sitting in the garden, thumbing through the Straits Times after Douglas had set off for Batu Lembah. An uncharacteristically sulky Jasmine had gone to school, still full of resentment at their early departure from the party. Doug had also been in ill sorts and had chosen to spend the night in the guest room. There had been no discussion of what had happened at the Penang Club and Evie decided it was best to let matters lie until they had each had a few days to let it pass.
Evie looked up as Arthur Leighton came towards her across the terrace.
‘You’ve missed Doug, I’m afraid,’ she said. Trying to keep the acidity from her voice she added, ‘How’s Veronica?’
‘It’s you I came to see, not Doug. I want to apologise for what happened yesterday.’
‘It’s not up to you to apologise. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘I’m afraid it was.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
He pulled up a chair and sat, his head in his hands. ‘I can’t go on like this, Evie.’
‘Like what?’
‘Staying with her, when every day that goes by, I loathe her more. No worse than that. I loathe myself for getting into this situation. I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I put my career before everything else when I agreed to marry her. Because she helped my career along I stood by while she spun increasingly out of control.’ He looked up at Evie, his face a picture of misery. ‘I should have stood up for myself and refused to marry her.’