The Pearl of Penang

by Clare Flynn

  Hugh was sleeping in a bassinet beside her, in a shaded part of the garden. She gazed at his perfectly formed face and wondered how she was going to manage to raise the child in a way that Doug would have approved. How was he to grow up without the guidance and support of a father? How was she going to make the right choices for her son – the choices that Douglas would have made?

  And she missed Douglas. Yes, he had often been cold and distant, but he had cared for her in his own clumsy way. Her week no longer had a focus now he would no longer be returning to George Town for the weekends. In the big bed, she felt lonely and lost and longed to have him beside her. She missed the intimacy of making love, the feel of his body against hers, the physical pleasure they had enjoyed.

  She examined her little boy’s face, trying to identify any feature of Douglas. He had inherited his father’s dark hair, and his eyes were the same blue, but it was impossible to detect anything more. Evie told herself that something would become apparent as the baby grew up. Besides, there was no discernible evidence of her in the baby either. She hoped Hugh would grow up to look exactly like Douglas – those dark good looks would stand him in good stead – but not that he would inherit his father’s melancholia or his inability to express his feelings. No, she had to make sure of that.

  The heat was oppressive, with no breeze. Evie had a sudden overwhelming need to get away from the house, to escape the tragic air that Aunty Mimi and Benny were projecting, to escape the constant reminder that Doug would never again stand on the veranda outside the drawing room with a stengah in his hand. She picked up the bassinet and went inside where she transferred Hugh into his pram, and told Aunty Mimi she was going out for a while.

  As she went to open the front door, there was a knock. It was Arthur Leighton.

  ‘You’re going out?’ he said. ‘I came to say goodbye. I’m driving back to Singapore today.’

  ‘I was going for a walk. I can put it off.’

  ‘No, don’t. May I walk with you? Where are you heading?’

  ‘There’s a little Taoist temple I like to visit.’ Until the words came out she hadn’t realised that was where she intended to go.

  They began walking.

  ‘Is that the one near the Fort? The Temple of Harmony? I know it well. Outside is chaos and inside it’s an oasis of tranquility.’

  ‘That’s it exactly. A very peaceful place. There’s a monk there who once gave me some advice. I was hoping he might be able to give me some today.’

  ‘What did he advise you about?’

  She hesitated then decided to tell him. There was something about Arthur that made it impossible to hold anything back from him. ‘It was after I found Doug with that Malay woman. The monk helped me find a way to forgive him, to give our marriage another chance.’

  Arthur said nothing.

  ‘I was thinking he might have some words of wisdom for me about how to cope with being a widow while still in my twenties.’

  Arthur’s lips tightened and a nerve twitched at the edge of his mouth. He turned to face her. ‘Evie, I wish I could make everything different. I wish I could be here with you all the time, to support you.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ve been a rock for me. I couldn’t have got through the funeral without you. And those last hours at the hospital.’ A tear ran down her cheek. How was she going to cope, without Douglas and now without Arthur too?

  They walked along a quiet, tree-lined street, Evie pushing the pram with Hugh still fast asleep inside. Abruptly, Arthur stopped and pulled her into his arms. He crushed her against him and she could feel the beating of his heart through his white cotton shirt. ‘I love you, Evie, more than life itself. I’ve tried to make it otherwise but I can’t. And now, seeing how lost and lonely you must be feeling, all I want is to be with you. To make things better for you.’

  ’Don’t,’ she said, a surge of anger running through her. ‘Your best friend is barely in his grave and you’re saying things like that.’

  ‘I’m saying them because I have to say them. Because of Doug dying like that. So unexpectedly. So quickly. It’s made me realise how fleeting life is and how important it is to grasp hold of the possibility of happiness.’ He drew her closer. ‘I love you, Evie, and you know as well as I do that we’re meant to be together.’

  She pushed him away. ‘Stop it. I don’t want to hear any more.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Evie, listen to me. I love you. Desperately. Totally. Completely. With every fibre of my being. I realise while I’m still married to Veronica I have no right to say this to you, but I want you to know that I am going to find a way to free myself. Being in that rest-home is helping her. I just need to give her some more time. I know I can convince her she’ll be better off without me–’

  ‘Stop it! I told you. I don’t want to hear this, Arthur. What kind of woman do you think I am? My husband has just died. You’re still married. And I don’t want to hear any more about your bloody wife.’ She took hold of the pram again. ‘Now go. Now!’ and without waiting for an answer she moved away, walking at speed from him, without looking back.

  To her relief he didn’t attempt to follow her. She felt herself shaking as she pushed the pram. The baby began to wail, perhaps sensing his mother’s distress. Her legs were like jelly, so she stopped and sat down on a bench, taking her baby into her arms to comfort him.

  Why was life so damn hard? What would Douglas feel? His best friend declaring his love to his widow, just a day after he was buried.

  The truth was her anger was with herself even though it was directed at Arthur. She was consumed with guilt. Yes, she missed Douglas. Yes, she grieved his death. She wanted him to be here for his children. She wished he hadn’t died. Yet what Arthur had said was true. She loved him body and soul and yes, yes, yes, she knew they were meant to be together.

  The rain began. A typical Malayan shower, arriving without warning and often ending just as quickly. It started with light drops that refreshed the oppressive air, before rapidly turning into a torrent, splashing up and soaking her legs as she sat on the bench. She put Hugh back in the pram, pulling the canopy up to protect him, then set off walking rapidly towards the temple. Evie always enjoyed tropical rain. It was so different from the rain in England. It was steamy and often the sun arrived before the shower finished, evaporating the water so any cooling effect was short-lived. But as she hurried along, the sky was dark and the rain unrelenting. Evie looked upwards, letting the water cascade down her face, washing away her tears. Upwards to heaven. Was Doug there? Watching her? She felt an overpowering need to talk to the monk.

  The rain stopped just as she entered the square of the Temple of Harmony. Leaving the pram outside, she picked up Hugh and went into the building. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. At first she thought the space was empty, jumping when she heard the soft voice behind her.

  ‘You have brought your child. A beautiful baby. I am very happy for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to the monk. ‘He’s seven months old and I’ve been meaning to bring him here to meet you for some time. His name is Hugh.’

  The monk studied her face. ‘You have great fortune and yet I see you are still unhappy. Would you like to talk?’

  Evie nodded, intensely grateful for the man’s perception. Just being in his presence had a calming effect upon her. She followed him into the anteroom where they had taken tea before.

  ‘So. Are things still difficult between you and your husband?’

  ‘My husband is dead.’

  The monk nodded, unfazed. ‘He was sick?’

  ‘An accident. He had a bad fall and got blood poisoning and died in less than forty-eight hours.’

  ‘I see you are very sad.’

  ‘Yes. I did everything you said. I tried so hard. I forgave him. We were reconciled.’ She looked at the sleeping child in her arms. ‘He was so happy about the baby. Life together wasn’t perfect, but we had found a way to make it work. I c
an’t believe he’s gone.’

  The monk said nothing, but looked at her expectantly, so Evie stumbled on to fill the silence. ‘It’s so unfair. Unjust. What kind of god strikes a man down at only forty-three? And when he’s recently become a father. What a cruel god to punish us like that.’

  The anger welled up inside her. She lowered her eyes. ‘I think it’s a punishment. My husband believed he was being punished for causing the death of his brother when they were children, but he was wrong. God wouldn’t punish him for something that happened accidentally when he was a child – God was actually punishing me.’

  ‘Why would God punish you?’

  She looked up and met his eyes.

  ‘For loving another man.’ There, it’s out, she thought, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. If she expected a thunderbolt to strike her down, it didn’t happen.

  ‘You betray your husband with this other man?’ The monk’s gaze was steady.

  ‘Only in my thoughts. I tried so hard to be a good wife. To put aside my feelings for the other man. I worked hard to make my husband happy.’

  ‘And you did. You tell me he happy about beautiful baby. Yes?’

  ‘Yes. He was. He wanted a son desperately.’

  ‘So why you say God punish you for that? You plan leave your husband for this other man?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I ask again why you think God punish you?’

  She looked down, twisting her fingers round each other. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Death is part of life.’ He looked up at her, his eyes kind and his voice calm and reassuring. ‘Without death, is no life. Flowers bloom then die and dying make new growth possible. Watch your son grow. See how he see magic in new things. In things you no more see. He see magic in things you think dull. Look your children. They are future. Husband return to nature. He now part of world around you. He part of your children. You will see husband in son as boy grows. In him, husband lives on in new life. This is the way of the world.’

  She stared at the monk. ‘So, I shouldn’t feel guilty?’

  ‘You learn nothing? Remember what I say you before. To find love you must first learn to love self. Forgive self. Not blame self.’

  Evie felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

  ‘Remember you made husband happy. You good wife. Now you be good mother.’

  ‘Thank you. I will do my best.’ She was about to take her leave but then blurted, ‘But the other man. He has been good to me and he arranged the funeral. I’ve treated him badly even though he has been a rock to me. Just now he told me loves me and I was angry. I shouted at him.’ She twisted her hands again.

  ‘Remember to love self. Love self and trust your god. God will help you find peace. Goodbye, daughter.’ He rose to his feet and disappeared behind the curtain.

  Evie stared after him, uncertain if she was any the wiser, but feeling a sense of calm that she had lacked when she’d walked into the temple. She planted a kiss on Hugh’s forehead and left the building.

  28

  The world changed again for Evie in December 1941, with the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbour by the Japanese. Nerves among the expatriate community had been taut since the summer, when the Americans had initiated an embargo of Japanese oil and implemented sanctions and, thanks to Vichy France, the Japanese now had air bases in Indo-China, so the threat had moved dangerously close to Malaya. But with Pearl Harbour and the simultaneous amphibious landings at Kota Bharu on the north east Malay coast near the Thai border, all pretence that the Japanese were not to be taken seriously disappeared. Both the USA and Britain were at war with Japan.

  Earlier in the war, the British had been clear that, in theory, the priority for defence after Britain itself, was Malaya with its mineral and rubber wealth and the strategic harbours of Penang and Singapore. Yet Churchill and the War Cabinet had overturned this assumption and dropped Malaya below the Middle East and Russia in the pecking order. Only Singapore had any serious defensive presence – but with insufficient and obsolete aircraft, below par divisions, no tanks or anti-tank guns. On top of this, there was serious dissent between the military and government authorities. The Commander-in-Chief of the combined military forces complained of alarmist press reporting and seemed more intent on discrediting his colleagues than facing the prospect of the enemy.

  In Penang too, there was internal bickering, a refusal to allocate sufficient funds to civic defence and a neglect of air defences, rendering the island vulnerable to attack. The authorities were guilty of bungling – trenches had been dug, only to be filled in again, and there was a general refusal to face the possibility of invasion.

  Life for Evie had, until now, been completely focused on her two children. No thought of leaving Malaya had entered her head. Penang was their home. It was her husband’s final resting place and she and Jasmine tended his grave regularly. Besides, where would she go? To return to Britain was unthinkable. Not only was there danger there, the voyage itself was long and beset with risks. Her family’s livelihood depended on the income from the rubber estates and since Douglas had always intended his son to inherit and manage these eventually, Evie wanted to stay true to his intentions. That meant staying put.

  But on the morning after the attack on Pearl Harbour, Evie was woken at seven, not by the crying of Hugh, but by the scream of sirens. Was the unthinkable happening? Penang under attack. Pulling on her dressing gown, she picked up her son, who miraculously had remained asleep throughout the air raid warning, but now began grizzling. Soothing him, she went across the landing to Jasmine’s bedroom. The little girl, already dressed, was standing at the window, looking up at the sky.

  ‘What’s happening, Mummy? What was that noise?’

  Evie hated to frighten the child but if the war had come to them it would be impossible to shelter Jasmine from its realities. ‘It’s an air-raid warning. It’s to make sure we are ready to take shelter if the Japanese attack.’

  ‘Will they attack us, Mummy? Are we going to die like Daddy? Karen Morrison in my class said her granny got killed by a bomb in England. Will they drop bombs on us here?’

  Evie’s throat constricted. ‘No!’ She tried to inject confidence into her voice but in truth she was absolutely terrified. She had been a child herself in the last war but that happened over the Channel in another country.

  ‘It’s probably just a test – to make sure everyone has time to take shelter if we need to.’ As she said the words, she realised how hollow they sounded. If George Town was attacked there were no civilian shelters. ‘Let’s go downstairs and have some breakfast.’

  ‘Am I going to school today?’

  Evie hadn’t even thought of that question. But in an instant she decided. ‘No, darling, you can stay at home with Mummy and Hugh today.’ Until she knew exactly what was going on she wasn’t going to be separated from her children.

  When they came downstairs, Aunty Mimi, Cookie and Benny were standing in the hallway, talking animatedly.

  ‘Do you know what’s happening?’ Evie asked.

  ‘I count eight planes in sky. Fly to south of island.’ Benny looked angry. ‘Japanese attack airfield at Bayan Lepas. Very bad.’

  ‘Aunty Mimi, can you give the children their breakfast. I’m going to use the telephone.’

  Evie went into the study and sat down at the desk. She felt lost without Douglas. Who to call? She wished she hadn’t pushed Arthur Leighton away. She didn’t even know how to reach him in Singapore. He must surely know what was happening. After all he worked for the governor. Maybe if she rang the exchange and asked for Sir Shenton Thomas’s office they’d put her through. She told herself not to be foolish – even if she were able to reach Arthur he would be far too preoccupied with the Japanese invasion attempts to tell her what a single precautionary sounding of the air raid siren meant. And Benny was probably right. They were headed to the airfield in the south of the island. They’d be safe here in George Town. Better to call Reggie Hyde-Underwood who was i
n the Volunteers and would surely know what was going on. As she was about to pick it up, the telephone rang.

  ‘Evie, we’re closing the school today,’ Mary Helston said. ‘Don’t send Jasmine in.’

  ‘What’s happening, Mary? What were the sirens for?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t talk now. I have to call all the other parents. I’ll come over as soon as I’ve finished.’ Her voice was strained, anxious.

  Little more than an hour later, Mary was at the door. The two women embraced.

  ‘God, Evie, I’m worried sick. They’ve attacked the airfield at Butterworth as well as Bayan Lepas. It took an absolute pummelling. I could see fires burning across the Strait as I drove over here. Frank…’

  Evie held her friend tightly. ‘Frank’s there, not in Singapore?’

  ‘He’s in Butterworth. He got back from training in Singapore two days ago.’ Mary began to cry. Silent tears that ran down her cheeks. She didn’t attempt to brush them away. ‘He told me they’d be sitting ducks if the Japanese were to attack. Those Buffalo things they fly are out of the ark. They have no chance against the Japanese Mitsubishis.’ She gave a strangled sob and Evie led her to a seat and sat down beside her, putting an arm around her friend.

  Mary was shaking. ‘The Japanese planes smashed the American fleet to bits, so what chance do Frank and the other chaps have in their bloody useless, clapped-out excuses for planes?’

  ‘Do you really think they’ve attacked the airfield?’

  ‘I know they have. Apart from my seeing the fires, Dad is plugged into all the latest information. He says even though they attacked the airport here on the island, most of their efforts were directed at Butterworth. Giving it a pounding. There were only about half a dozen of our boys there to mount a defence. One of them is Frank.’ She gave a wracking sob. ‘Evie, I agreed to marry him. When he got back from Singapore we had dinner at the E&O… I …’ She held her hand out and Evie saw she was wearing an engagement ring.