Bitter Sweet Harvest

by Chan Ling Yap

  “Let me think this over. You go back to bed. No! Better stay here with me. Then you won’t wake Ming Kong up with your tossing and turning.”

  Mei Yin laid down on the bed and closed her eyes. Tired as she was, she could not sleep. She pressed her fingers on her temples in an effort to reduce the tightness in her head. Her eyes grew heavy but when she drifted off to sleep, she would wake up with a start. Nelly stroked her hair tenderly.

  Mei Yin sighed. “Thank you Nelly. Remember those days when I was young and petulant and you came to my rescue. I... all of us, do not know how we could have managed without you.” Responding to Nelly’s ministrations, Mei Yin finally fell into a deep sleep.

  Nelly continued stroking Mei Yin’s hair. She was full of her own thoughts. Time went by. Finally, she left Mei Yin sleeping and went back to her bed. She laid down, pulled the duvet up to her chin and wriggled under the cover until she was comfortable. That’s what I’ll do, she decided before she too drifted off to sleep.

  *****

  At the first streak of dawn, Mei Yin woke up. She reached over to Nelly’s bed and tapped her gently on her arm. Nelly grunted and opened her eyes. They were bleary with fatigue.

  “I’m sorry. Can we talk about An Mei again? We didn’t quite finish. What shall we do?”

  Nelly sat up, swung her legs over her bed and gathered the duvet around her shoulders with a shudder. “Dong seh yan! Yow lang, yow sup! Such cold; it kills people! Cold and damp! I don’t like the climate here. I miss the sun. I will return to Kuala Lumpur. And that, among other things, is what I’ll do. I’ll tell Ming Kong this evening.”

  Mei Yin sat up and looked at Nelly with dismay. “What!” she exclaimed, “you can’t do that. Ming Kong will be really upset. You have always helped him with his businesses. You are his right hand. How would that help him? And how will that help us with An Mei?”

  “You do not need me here. You can be his right hand. You have mastered English and you are much younger. He will need you now. I am not much use here. I can be a greater help in Kuala Lumpur. Remember we still have two stores left in KL because we could not sell them before we left. Maan sook, uncle Maan, is helping out in the stores until we find a buyer but, really, we should have our own people at the helm. Tek San promised to keep an eye on them, but he has his own business to run. I was always responsible for managing the stores in the past and I feel I can play a better role back home than here. I do not speak English nor do I know the English system and people.”

  She buttoned up her pyjama top and smoothed her hair down. “You, however, would or should get on fine here. You have your friend, Siew Lin. She is already charting out business contacts for you. Her family is well established in Soho. Then, you have Jenny. Both are more your friends than they are mine. Here in England, you would be a bigger help to Ming Kong than me.”

  Mei Yin looked disbelievingly at Nelly. But she was flattered. “You think so? My experience is much less than yours. I’ve managed only a small part of his business, producing and selling cakes. That is not enough surely.”

  “Yes, I think it is and it was not such a small operation,” Nelly replied emphatically, pushing her spectacles up her nose and staring at Mei Yin intently through her bifocals. “In any case, Ming Kong will be taking the lead and making most of the decisions. Unlike in KL where he had a finger in every pie and needed to delegate, he is starting from scratch here. He will definitely have to focus his energies and won’t leave you to manage on your own.”

  Mei Yin was doubtful. She looked at her hands, examining her fingers and the palms of her hands as though she was trying to read her future in them. Nelly took the hands in hers and placed them on her lap. “Think!” she said, “we are not sure how the business will develop here in England; it is such an uncharted territory for us. If we liquidate the two stores, give up everything in Kuala Lumpur and then fail here, the consequences could be dire.”

  Mei Yin pulled her hands away abruptly. “I thought we were talking about An Mei,” she said. “How would your return to KL help?” Suddenly she grew cross at how Nelly seemed to have side-tracked her proposed discussion on how to help An Mei with business talk. “I am surprised at you! Why are you thinking about business now, putting such considerations before solving the problems of An Mei?”

  “I am not,” exclaimed Nelly, “how could you accuse me of that when you know how much An Mei means to me?” Her voice rose and her face grew red with exasperation. She felt hurt and misunderstood.

  “You asked me how I could justify returning to KL and abandoning Ming Kong. So, I am explaining to you the reasons I would give him for returning, reasons that he should find acceptable. I would propose that An Mei stays in KL to help me out and keep me company. I need an English-speaking help in KL to take the place of Ming Kong and who better than his daughter?” Her voice rose in excitement. “This way, we’ll buy time and An Mei will be able to remain in KL. We will have to take it from there, one step at a time. If she really loves Hussein, then there is nothing we can do to stop her. Who knows, with time Ming Kong might come to accept the situation. If she falls out with Hussein, then she will not have burnt her boat with her father. He would think that she is staying in KL because of me. We are buying time for her so that she does not have to make rushed decisions and, just as important, so that Ming Kong does not make any hasty resolutions such as disowning her.”

  Exhausted by her outburst, Nelly laid down on the bed again pulling the duvet over her. “Ming Kong will probably hate me if he finds out. This will be the first time I would not be telling him the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” she whispered, shocked at her own proposal.

  “Oh Nelly,” said Mei Yin ashamed of her earlier outburst, “thank you. I have never been as good a mother as you have been to An Mei all these years. And now, it is still no different. You are truly her wonderful mother; I am nothing more than her biological mother,” said Mei Yin softly. She realised how much it had cost Nelly to make her decision. She knew her loyalty to Ming Kong. She lay down next to Nelly and cuddled her close, feeling the warmth of Nelly’s face. Two women, both wives to the same man, who over the years had become like siblings sharing a profound and lasting love for their family.

  Chapter 11

  Hussein hurried along the path through the village and retraced his steps back to his parents’ house. He was late. When Fawziah’s cousin arrived to pick him up from Kai Min’s house, he had not finished explaining his plans to An Mei because of the continuous interruptions. Despite Kai Min’s promise to give them time alone to sort out their problems, she had been in and out of the sitting room monitoring their movements. She made all kinds of excuses: she had forgotten her spectacles; she had mislaid a book she was reading. Then she needed something from the cupboard and rummaged through its shelves, all the while throwing anxious glances at her niece. When they returned her stare with an exasperated plea for privacy, she had retorted with a firm shake of her head. “Mei Yin will never forgive me if you misbehave in my house. Sorry! I cannot give you so much time that you could behave badly.” Her maid, Ah Foong had been indignant when Kai Min had first left the two young people on her own, warning her of her mistake.

  “Aiyah, nei you cheong sut hui. You have to guard them closely. These young people, you cannot trust them. They have different morals after studying in the west. They forget themselves,” she had grumbled at Kai Min until she felt obliged to abandon the latitude she had earlier given the couple. So when the car arrived to pick up Hussein and blared its horn, Kai Min sighed with relief and hurried him out of the house. “Go! Go before my husband comes back!”

  She had been taken aback by Tek San’s vehemence when An Mei first told them of Hussein. Her normally docile husband showed a side of him she had not seen. It must have been the result of all the stress he had been subjected to following the riots, the curfew and the reintroduction of Emergency rules, she had surmised. “Don’t even mention May Thirteenth,” he had warned his wife. “I
t could be construed as being anti-government, anti-state. You can be imprisoned.” Throwing his hands in the air, he cried, “How can I continue to run a business in this climate? Who would want to shop? Perhaps Ming Kong was right to leave!”

  Hussein, fresh from Kai Min’s vigilant household and the distinctly unfriendly attitude of its occupants, was even more determined that such insane racial prejudice be wiped out of his own household. He hurried through the marble hallway, saw Fawziah and was about to call out to her when she pointedly pretended not to see him. She scurried like a mouse, looking at the floor, until she came within a metre from him. Without looking up, she bowed low and went her way, announcing softly that his parents were within.

  He went into the large sitting room and greeted them. He pretended surprise at their presence.

  “Where have you been?” they asked. “Shalimar said that you were taking a rest and we sent someone to your room. But you were not there. So where were you?”

  “I have been to see An Mei.”

  There was complete quiet following his announcement. He could see that they were taken aback.

  “So she was not kidnapped by us!” Faridah said sarcastically, breaking the silence. She was surprised that her son had found An Mei and displeased at the turn of events. Her voice grew even more strident. “Don’t you think you should have more trust in your parents? Apologise even. Where is she? And how did you find her?”

  “She is safe with her uncle and aunt.”

  “How did you find her?” Faridah persisted observing his discomfort. “Who led you to her and how did she leave here?”

  “We did not discuss how she left. I did not ask,” answered Hussein, desperately looking for a way to avoid his mother’s questioning. “I found An Mei because I followed my intuition. I knew she had relatives here in Kuala Lumpur. She told me about them when we were in Oxford.”

  “Well, if she is safe, we can wash our hands of her and leave her be where she is now,” said Faridah, brandishing her arm as though she was swatting a fly. “We can concentrate on Shalimar and your marriage plans.”

  “No mother. I would like you to reconsider your views about An Mei.”

  “What about Shalimar? I thought you liked her. Things were going so well between the two of you before you came back to KL. What has happened?”

  “Mother, Shalimar understands that I do not wish to marry her. So can we please discuss An Mei and me?”

  “No! No! Stop this nonsense,” demanded Faridah. “I have said all that I wish to say on this matter. The answer is no!” She brought her hand in one big downward arc, crashing it on the table with a loud thud. “We will never accept her. She will destroy all your chances of a political future.”

  “How could you say that? I believe the opposite will happen. It will show us as moderates. Look at our Prime Minister, Tengku Abdul Rahman. He had a Thai Chinese mother and a Chinese wife to boot. That has not destroyed his career. People love him. He is Bapa Kemerdekaan, Father of Independence.”

  “Huh! But remember, even he had to relent. As prime minister, he is married only to Sharifah Rodziah. She is the First Lady. By then he was free of his previous Chinese wife and his English one as well, if you remember. In any case, times have changed. He is on his way out,” said Faridah.

  “Yes, Hussein. He has been heavily criticised recently,” his father confirmed.

  “What political leader escapes criticism? He is still loved by the people. They trust him because he has a clear view of what is best for the country. People trust him because of his fairness towards the different races and his background,” replied Hussein. “We need to be more like him. And like him, I do not think that we should allow ethnic origins to divide us. We are all Malaysians irrespective of race. For that reason I believe my marriage to An Mei would be a source of good — an advantage — rather than a hindrance.”

  His mother glared at him, her eyes angry and incredulous. “Talk sense into him,” she said turning to her husband. “Make him see what is good and what is right. At this moment, he has nothing between his ears except that girl. Bah! Bodoh! Stupid! What good is this western education?”

  She stormed out of the room leaving Hussein alone with his father.

  Hussein watched his mother’s departing figure. He turned to his father, his eyes pleading for understanding. He thought that his father would see his point of view. But Rahim showed no sign of it as he stood up and came close to him.

  “Your mother is right, Hussein. Have her as a girlfriend or a mistress if you must, but not as a wife. There is no future in that. Besides, you will not find a more lovely, devoted and devout girl than Shalimar. She is the sort of girl who will enjoy public approval.” Seeing the look on Hussein’s face, he added. “If this girl An Mei loves you, she will accept you on any condition. Why not put her to the test?”

  “You don’t understand. She is a good girl from a rich family, a family whose roots in the country go back for generations. Her family would not let her accept such a proposition.”

  “Yes, I know all about her family.” Rahim waved his hand dismissively. “We had her checked out, the minute you came back with her. Her father deserted Malaysia, his own country, for another when times became bad. He showed little trust and belief in his own birthplace. How would people here react when you marry her? How do you think that sort of marriage would improve your chance in politics?”

  “But it is not quite how you put it. He only left because of what happened to him; his shops had been ravaged by the mobs. Place yourself in his position. Imagine what you might do if you came home to a burnt out shell. If you put him in such light, then anything can be distorted to look bad. Your sending me abroad to study instead of letting me study in the local universities could also be misconstrued, for example, as a mistrust of the national curricula, the national education system. In fact, one could say that An Mei’s father showed more trust in our local education system because he sent her to the University of Malaya before she went to Oxford for her post-graduate degree.”

  Rahim snorted and then turned his back to Hussein. It would seem it was not for nothing that his son had been sent overseas for education. He certainly spoke and argued better than most of his peers, he thought. Aloud though, he said, in a voice tinged with boredom, “I’m not going to argue with you. I just ask that you think about it. Ask your girl if she would agree to be just a girlfriend, mistress, whatever, without status, or not have you at all.” He walked briskly out, holding his hand up palm outward as a gesture to silence any protestations that might come from Hussein. “And, while you are at it, cut off that damn ponytail! I would like to see you at prayers in the mosque this evening, minus that tail.”

  Chapter 12

  Nelly folded the last of her clothes and packed them in the suitcase. Her movements were slow and mechanical. She felt detached and listless. She observed how her hands were able to function even when her mind was not on the task. She wrapped two pairs of shoes and tucked them into the corner of the case. “There,” she sighed, her voice resigned, “that’s it, all my life possessions once more in two suitcases and, in a couple of days, I’ll be back in Kuala Lumpur.” She sat down with a thump on the bed, causing it to sag under her weight.

  “You don’t have to do this,” said Mei Yin, stricken with guilt, “you don’t have to sacrifice yourself. You can still change your mind.”

  “Then what about An Mei? She won’t have an excuse to remain in KL and that would mean Ming Kong would disinherit her because she will certainly refuse to come back. Besides, there is that crucial other matter of minding the shops and keeping the business going until we are sure we can survive here. I meant all that I said the other day.”

  “Oh how I wish that we could all go together. It just doesn’t seem fair on you.” Mei Yin sat down on the bed beside her.

  “It is not about fairness. It’s about practicality.” Nelly stood up again and fussed around her suitcase before closing the lid with a finality tha
t reflected her thoughts. “I have decided. Ming Kong has agreed. An Mei is happy. That is all there is to it.”

  “I cannot believe even now, how easily you persuaded Ming Kong to let you go,” Mei Yin exclaimed.

  “I think that deep down he too is worried about cutting off all ties with Malaysia in case it doesn’t work out here. And I am sure he feels that giving An Mei responsibilities will snap her out of what he considers to be her infatuation with Hussein.”

  “Do you think that it might also be him trying to give An Mei a chance — by letting her stay on in KL to work out for herself what she really wants? I still cannot believe that he would fall for your suggestion that An Mei will be useful to you in KL.”

  “Why not? She speaks excellent English and Malay, which I do not. That is essential for business nowadays.” Nelly stared into the distance deep in thought.

  “Maybe you are right,” she said after a while. “Ming Kong has changed. There might be a grain of truth in what you say. Maybe, it is his way of letting An Mei work it out herself without showing that he has conceded. We will never know unless he chooses to share his thoughts with us.”

  “Well right at this moment, he is busy with his plans and meetings. We are going this afternoon with Siew Lin to Soho’s Chinatown to look at some premises that might be suitable for a restaurant. You are coming as well, are you not?” asked Mei Yin.

  “No, you go. This will be for you and Ming Kong to decide. And don’t worry about An Mei and me. Things will work out.”

  *****

  Mei Yin stared out of the taxi that they had taken from Paddington station. It had taken them an hour’s train journey from Oxford. Her face was pale. In the month they had been in England, she had lost her tan. Thinking they must be tourists, the London cab driver insisted on giving them a running commentary of the sights: Baker Street, the home of Sherlock Holmes; Hyde Park with its renown Speaker’s corner; Park Lane and the famous Dorchester Hotel; and then down past the entrance to Buckingham Palace, home of the Queen. From there they went on to Trafalgar Square and Nelson’s column. People were milling around the square, some snapping photos, others feeding the seemingly thousands of pigeons gathered there. Suddenly a flock of pigeons rose into the sky, their wings flapping noisily amidst squeals of delight from the children.