by Rosanna Ley
‘Who are these people anyway?’ she asked. ‘Where do they live?’
‘What difference does it make where they live?’ Ramon smiled grimly.
‘Because if you know they’ve stolen the chinthe and if you know where they live, why couldn’t we just steal it back again?’
Ramon let out a snort of laughter. ‘Brave words,’ he said. ‘But you have no idea how dangerous that would be.’
Only if they found out who had taken it, Eva thought.
But Maya shook her head. ‘Two wrongs do not make a right,’ she said. ‘It is wrong to steal and it will lead to no merit in the end.’
Eva sat back in her chair. Karma. But they must be able to do something. She looked Ramon straight in the eyes. ‘So what will you do?’ she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Softly, softly,’ he said.
Maya gave him a beatific smile. She reached for the teapot and poured out more tea. ‘You must take care,’ she warned.
Eva took the tiny cup that was offered to her. What was ‘softly, softly’ supposed to mean? Did Ramon have his own plan of trying to get the chinthe back? She hoped so. ‘But the other thing I don’t quite see …’ She frowned. ‘Is why they want it so badly.’
Maya and Ramon exchanged a look. Maya smiled and gave a small nod. Ramon shrugged.
‘What?’
Ramon helped himself to more papaya, offering the fruit first to his grandmother and then to Eva. Maya shook her head, but Eva took a slice of watermelon, red and juicy. ‘It is an important piece of history,’ he said.
‘Yes, of course.’ The chinthes were originally the property of the last Queen of Burma. Eva looked across at the little animal she had brought all the way from Dorset. He had pride of place just below the Buddha in the shrine. He stood on guard, but Eva couldn’t help thinking he still looked a little lonely.
‘The decorative teak chinthes were among the treasures of the Royal Palace,’ Ramon went on. His eyes were gleaming as he casually helped himself to more fruit. He bit into the dripping flesh of the watermelon, never taking his eyes from her face. ‘And the Royal Palace was full of precious things,’ he said. ‘Teak carvings, golden images of our sacred Buddha, lacquer-work studded with gems. Even the walls were made of glass or decorated with jade and topaz.’ He raised a dark eyebrow.
‘Yes, I know.’ But Eva still didn’t quite understand. Naturally, the provenance of the chinthe gave it significance and value. It was what she had always believed: the story of an artefact was the one vital element that made it unique and special.
Ramon and his grandmother exchanged more significant looks.
What had she missed?
Lazily, Ramon got to his feet, stretched up to retrieve the chinthe from the shrine. He placed it carefully on the table between them. Watched her.
Eva smiled. The little chinthe was special. She would miss him. She ran her fingertip over the carving. ‘Designed and carved by a royal master-craftsman?’ she guessed.
‘Of course. And?’
‘And?’
He turned the chinthe to face her.
Eva looked into its red glass eyes as she had done so many times before. ‘You might expect his eyes to be rubies,’ she said. ‘When you know the provenance. The fact that they’re cheap glass, makes you think that the little beast isn’t worth …’ And then the penny dropped. ‘That’s the idea?’ she breathed.
‘That is the idea,’ Ramon confirmed. He gave a grim smile. ‘When you turned up with it earlier I checked all was in place. I could hardly believe it. But it was so.’
‘All was in …?’
Ramon picked up the little chinthe and, very gently, between his thumb and forefinger, he twisted its tail. In response, the head of the animal moved backwards to reveal a secret cavity inside.
Eva’s eyes widened as she leaned closer. Of course, in her work, she had come across many antique wooden pieces with hidden compartments and sliding panels. But this was so delicate, so unexpected.
And inside … Ramon removed first one, then another from a nest of cotton padding. Two jewels sat in the palm of his hand.
Eva gasped.
The large rubies seemed to blink up at the light after the long period of darkness. Ramon held them out for her to see. They were dark red, almost purple in this light. Intense and passionate with a deep lustre and a blade that shimmered down the centre of each like an iris.
Rubies … She was speechless.
‘Burmese Mogok Rubies,’ he said. ‘We call them pigeonblood rubies, because of their colour.’
Eva was transfixed. They were stunning in both colour and luminosity.
‘Would you like to take a closer look?’
Eva met his gaze, realised that for the first time today, he trusted her. Maybe he resented her grandfather and Westerners in general for the freedoms they took for granted. Maybe he didn’t want her to open up the box of the past. But he and Maya were trusting her with something very special. ‘Yes, please,’ she whispered.
She held out her hand and he dropped one of the stones into her palm. She held it up to the light. There was a reflection that was like the sheen from a spool of silk. Why hadn’t she guessed? But then again, why on earth should she have guessed? Ramon was right, red glass eyes, too obviously bright and glittering, had de-valued the piece. No one would guess. Unless they knew.
‘And the other chinthe?’ she asked.
‘The same.’
‘So …?’
‘The four Burmese Mogok rubies are very rare,’ Ramon said. ‘Suu Kyi suspected their value from what the Queen had told her and she knew of the existence of the secret compartments and of the mechanism with which to open it. It was then a simple matter for our family to have a master craftsman remove the rubies and insert the glass instead. The rubies must be kept in place for good luck, of course. But in front of them, for all to see, would be …’
‘The red glass eyes,’ Eva said.
‘Yes.’
‘And Nanda Li?’
Maya bowed her head. ‘Of course, she, too, knew of the Mogok rubies, perhaps even of the secret compartment. She was there on that day with the Queen and Suu Kyi. She would have told her family. They would have known.’
Ramon glanced at his grandmother and murmured something softly in Burmese. ‘They are a national treasure. It was illegal to take them out of the country.’
Maya nodded and smiled, patted his hand. She turned to Eva. ‘But your grandfather did not know that,’ she said.
‘Illegal?’ Eva echoed. So, she’d blithely transported an artefact of national importance and worth a small fortune from Britain to Myanmar, whisked it through security and deposited it back where it belonged, with hardly a second thought. No wonder they had both been so shocked. Eva had assumed it was the emotional trauma for Maya of the chinthe she’d given Lawrence being returned to her after all these years. Maybe it was that too, but it was so much more.
‘The chinthe has always been a very special gift.’ Again, Ramon looked at his grandmother. Maya nodded.
‘And so my family thanks you from the bottom of its heart.’
Eva appreciated these words. But her mind was still spinning. Maya had said that her grandfather had not known he was not allowed to take the chinthe out of the country. What else had he known – or not known? Of course there would have been few checks during the aftermath of war. She thought of how dearly he had treasured the little beast. Could he possibly have known its value? For a moment Eva felt a flare of doubt. But he couldn’t have known. He treasured it because it was a gift from the woman he loved. Her grandfather would never knowingly have placed her in danger.
Maya rose to her feet, which seemed to be a signal that the evening was at an end. Ramon got up too and so did Eva.
‘But shouldn’t you keep it under lock and key,’ Eva said. ‘If it’s so valuable. I mean …’
Maya shook her head. ‘What will be,’ she said. ‘We must trust him to do his job, to protect. We must
trust him to be seen. And perhaps one day our missing chinthe will be drawn to return. If the Lord Buddha wills it.’
Eva nodded. She hoped she was right. But some sort of human intervention might be necessary too.
‘We do not value either of the chinthes because of their material wealth,’ Maya said softly. ‘Nor even for their traditional symbolism. The ruby represents leadership and self-esteem and will bring wealth, good health and wisdom to its owner.’ She smiled. ‘We hope that this is so. But we value them for their history. For what each one represents and the spirit in which it was given.’ She bowed her head and when she raised it again, there were tears in her dark eyes. ‘But for others it is not the same. Which is why it would be such a dangerous task to try to reunite the two.’
‘I understand.’ Eva took Maya’s outstretched hand. She respected what she was saying. But didn’t everything that the chinthes represented make it even more important to reunite them? ‘I’ve brought some photographs with me,’ she said. ‘Can I bring them to show you, tomorrow, before I leave for Mandalay?’
‘Oh, yes. Please do.’
They said their goodbyes.
‘Ramon will accompany you back to Pine Rise,’ Maya said. And held up her hand when Eva was about to demur. ‘I insist.’
‘Very well.’
He held the door open for her and she slipped on her sandals before stepping out into the night air. Did Ramon really have a plan to get back the other chinthe? And if so, what was it? Eva decided that before she left Pyin Oo Lwin, she would make it her business to find out.
CHAPTER 19
Eva’s mind was still back in the time of the final Burmese dynasty as they walked towards Pine Rise. In contrast, though, the night was silent and still, even the cicadas had been quiet since nightfall, the only other movement the faintest trembling of the velvety flowers which looked almost ghostly in the darkness, their scent more magnified than in the stark light of day. Eva’s English life felt so far away, almost as if it belonged to someone else.
But she’d been wondering. She glanced at Ramon walking beside her. ‘What happened to the other treasures from the Royal Palace?’ she asked him. He had been subdued since they left the house; perhaps he, too, had a lot to think about. And now she sensed rather than saw his frown.
‘Some are in the National Museum in Yangon,’ he said. ‘But most were plundered at the time of the exile.’
Plundered … Eva shivered, although the night air was still so warm she didn’t even need a wrap. What had the King and Queen of Burma felt when they knew they had lost everything? And what had all that reverential bowing from their subjects really meant? Very little, it seemed, when there were riches to be had, beyond their wildest dreams. ‘But where is it now?’ she murmured. The ground was dry and hard under her thin sandals, still dusty from the heat of the day. They had taken the same route back to Pine Rise that she had taken earlier to get to Maya’s. The lane was narrow but they were walking along the pathway that ran beside it.
‘Sold many years ago and long gone,’ he said. ‘By now it will be in China, India, Britain, who knows?’ But she wasn’t fooled by the casual tone of his voice. Ramon cared. It was his country, she knew that he cared.
Eva paused to stare up at the canopy of the night sky. The whole galaxy seemed laid out before them. The sky was clear, never before had she seen so many stars. ‘It was a sad end to the dynasty,’ she said softly.
He followed her gaze. ‘It was.’ And he seemed to soften slightly.
‘And what happened to the Royal Palace itself?’ She refocused on the path ahead, allowed her hand to trail over the foliage of a eucalyptus tree as they passed by, its leaves glimmering blue in the light of the crescent moon.
‘It was taken over by the British.’ Once again, she heard the note of bitterness and Ramon’s pace seemed to quicken as if he wanted this walk to be over.
‘What did they do with it?’ Though Eva could guess.
‘The West Wing was converted into a club. The Queen’s Audience Hall became a billiard room. The gardens were dug up to build polo fields and tennis courts.’ His voice rang out in the darkness. He had moved ahead of her, but now he stopped for a moment to allow her to catch up with him.
‘I see.’ That didn’t seem very respectful. She almost felt she should apologise.
‘The Burmese, they call this period in our history, “The English time”, he added, as the path narrowed and they moved once more into single file. ‘Look around you at this town.’ He waved his arms in an expansive gesture. ‘It is full of the British legacy. It was even named after one of your Colonels. A Colonel May.’
‘Really?’ Eva hadn’t known that, but she wasn’t surprised. It was certainly true that Pyin Oo Lwin still looked very British, at least in the suburbs. But if the Burmese people had resented the ‘English time’, then why did they seem to like the British so much, she wondered. They were all so friendly, so eager to talk to her.
‘And in the Second World War, the Palace was destroyed by fire,’ Ramon continued. He glanced back at her, clearly expecting a reaction.
Also caused by the British, no doubt. Sometimes Eva felt more than a little ashamed of her heritage. But Ramon had an English father too, she reminded herself. Was he also ashamed? It didn’t appear so. Hadn’t he said that he wanted to go to the UK, to travel, to experience his father’s world?
‘And now?’ she asked as she drew level with him. She had seen the wide moat that surrounded the old citadel. ‘What’s happened to the Palace now?’
‘It has been reconstructed,’ he said crisply.
‘Oh?’ It was hard to see the path ahead and Eva almost stumbled over a tree root. He heard the sound and turned to make sure she was alright, but she’d just lost her footing for a moment and she was fine. Ramon didn’t seem to find their night walk such a problem. He could obviously see in the dark, she thought, like a cat.
‘Perhaps you will visit the Palace when you return to Mandalay,’ he said.
That sounded rather as if he couldn’t wait for her to be gone. And once again he had become distant, that moment of trust back at the house when he’d shown her the rubies had disappeared. ‘I will,’ she told him. After what she’d heard tonight, it would be high on her list of must-sees.
The scent of the frangipani, rich and intoxicating in the night air, seemed to pull them along the road towards Pine Rise. Sometimes, Eva thought, it was almost too much, too cloying, too heavy. Even so, part of her longed to linger a little, to take her time dawdling and absorbing the sweet warmth of the night, which seemed so gentle on the senses. But Ramon clearly had other ideas and again, she had to hurry to keep up with him.
‘Your country has many riches,’ Eva observed, slightly out of breath as she thought again of those rubies. But it wasn’t just the rubies and other jewels. There was also teak and oil, as well as rice, of course; she’d seen lots of paddy fields since she’d been here. No wonder the British and the Japanese had wanted a slice of everything.
‘This is true.’ He glanced across at her again and slowed his pace for a moment. ‘But not many of our people are rich.’
She knew that too. Hadn’t she seen them? Living in what were little more than makeshift shacks? Begging by the roadside?
But, ‘You have restored something of our family’s heritage to us, Eva,’ he said. His voice was surprisingly tender and, for a moment, Eva was aware of the proximity of him, tall and lithe just ahead of her in the darkness. ‘We are very happy for that. And there is someone else, who will also be happy.’
‘Your grandmother?’ She heard the shrill cry of a bird or a bat from high above them. But she’d be happier still if the family had both chinthes, and the rubies, restored to them, Eva thought. She had read the mixed emotions in Maya’s dark eyes. Bitter-sweet. And although her grandmother, Helen, had died and Maya’s husband too, Eva knew that Lawrence and Maya would never be reunited – it would never be possible. Her grandfather was too frail to come here
to Myanmar and Maya would never leave her country. For them, it was too late.
Ramon did not answer her. He was looking beyond her into the night. For the moment, she realised, she had lost him. ‘And will you tell me your plan to get back the other chinthe?’ she whispered.
‘It is not your concern.’ In a millisecond, he was back in the present and on red alert. And his voice had changed again. It sliced through the darkness.
No room for further discussion then, she thought. For now. ‘Do you remember Maya’s husband, your grandfather?’ she asked. She was curious about the man who had stepped into the breach left by her own grandfather.
‘Yes, I do.’ He paused, seemed to rein himself back. ‘He was a good man, a kind man.’
‘And you had a happy childhood?’
He laughed. Perhaps he was amused by her questions. ‘We survived very well,’ he said. ‘We were fortunate, compared to many of our countrymen.’ He glanced back at her as if knowing what she were thinking. ‘And if my grandmother ever missed your grandfather, then I never knew about it.’
Touché, thought Eva. ‘But you always resented him.’
In the darkness she couldn’t read his expression this time. ‘Some might say that many Burmese women were taken advantage of by British men living in our country,’ he said. He spoke clearly and there was no mistaking his meaning. ‘They were not given the respect or the position that they deserved.’
Was that what had happened with her grandfather? ‘Is that what your grandmother says?’ Eva asked him.
He straightened and walked on. ‘My grandmother is the most loyal woman I know.’
Which was, she knew, his way of answering the question. Maya would never criticise Lawrence. But Eva was sure it hadn’t been like that. Theirs was a love story in a million. Her grandfather would never have left her if … But Eva stopped there. She didn’t know the end of their story, not yet.