Bitter Sweet Harvest

by Chan Ling Yap

  “Never mind about the entertainment,” said Hussein, taking the papers from Ghazali. “Have you called Noraidin for me? Did she tell you why she has not answered my calls nor returned them. When will I be free to talk to her in the midst of the mad schedule that you have arranged for me?”

  He had tried calling An Mei late in the evenings and was alarmed that she was not at home.

  “We did try but could not reach her. Ahmad has gone to KL to check.”

  “And? What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. He said he would report to your mother. She will tell you.”

  Hussein looked at Ghazali and, sensing his unease, made up his mind to contact Nelly. She would probably give him a fairer account than his mother. But his thoughts kept returning to the failure of An Mei to return his calls.

  *****

  The room was quiet except for the soft footfalls of the maid preparing the bed. Faridah sat in front of the dressing table and looked into the mirror. She hardly registered the image of the woman reflected in it. Behind her, in the dressing room, her husband was putting the final touches to his dressing for the reception. A manservant stood by, his hands holding out a velvet tray on which a range of cufflinks were displayed. Rahim pointed to a pair with dark blue sapphires.

  “That pair. They should go well with my white silk shirt and blue songket sarong.” He looked up to where his wife was in the adjacent room.

  “Hussein did well today,” he continued, holding out both his wrists to the manservant, his words breaking into Faridah’s thoughts. “Ghazali has sent in his report. We should succeed in getting him into Dewan Rakyat, the House of Representatives, if he continues like this.”

  “Not if that minx is still his wife.” She regarded her husband through the reflection in the mirror. “She’s up to no good. She is not wearing her hijab, she stays out late and does not even return to the residence some nights.”

  “You have to talk to her. We cannot allow her behaviour to drag down Hussein’s name in this critical period. It is fortunate that she is in KL and not here in Kemun. Perhaps, you are right. We have to get rid of her.”

  “But how? Our son is still besotted.” Faridah thought for a moment. “The only way we can get rid of her is if Hussein himself wishes to do so. If he would only tire of her; I’ll ask Ahmad for his advice.”

  *****

  The wind blew, its force whipping the casuarina trees into a wild frenzy. Coconut palms bent under the force, their fronds trailed on the white sand sweeping up clouds of fine debris. In the distance, purple storm clouds were gathering, masking the daylight and wiping out all signs of the horizon. Suddenly, thunder reverberated, followed by streaks of lightning, their brightness, urgent and violent, pierced the blackness of the sky.

  Shalimar stood by the window, her face transfixed as she watched fishermen make for the shore, dragging their long boats behind, and desperately tying them to anchors on the beach. She sank to the floor to sit on her haunch, legs folded beneath her, her forehead pressed to the windowpane. Silently she wept, her hand went to her cheek, feeling the heat of the slap that had been landed there.

  “You have failed once!” Ahmad had accused her. “Don’t fail me again if you wish me not to charge that useless whelp you are in love with. Remember I am your brother, your guardian. And I have the power to send him to prison.”

  She had begged him on her knees. Furious, he had swept his hand back and landed a resounding blow on her face. For a few seconds, even he was astounded by his action.

  “There, look what you have made me do! Clean up. Repair the damage to your face and make yourself ready for tonight.”

  With that he had departed with barely a glance at her crouching form.

  Shalimar rose. She made her way slowly into Ahmad’s room. It was empty. She walked to his desk, made her way round it and sat on his chair. Her eyes were bleak, bitter. She reached into a drawer. The coldness of the metal startled her; she grasped the handle and brought the keris up, turning it almost lovingly before a sudden revulsion took over. She placed it hastily on the desk, pushing it away from her, her fingers stinging. Then, with a quick deft movement, she grabbed it once more; bringing it up firmly with both hands she turned its jagged edge towards her heart. She trembled.

  “Jangan! Don’t! Tengku Shalimar! It will not help the one you love. He will be blamed and it will not be just imprisonment,” came a cry from the doorway.

  *****

  An Mei sat on her bed, clasping her knees close to her. She had shed her clothes and cast off the hijab that Faridah had instructed her to wear when she went out. She ruffled her hair and shook her head until the hair bounced in glorious defiance after the enforced restriction. She sat, chin on knees, savouring the cold air on her skin, the cold air pumped in by the air-conditioner. She could hear its reverberation as it too sang its protest against the enforced churning of hot air into cold. The house was empty. Perhaps, she thought, Nelly would come to visit or I can go over to her and stay the night. But pride made her inert. Eyes closed tight, she contemplated her marriage; her thoughts went back to Ahmad’s visit. She had regretted her earlier rashness of not wearing the hijab if that was the one thing that might bring her closer to her mother-in-law. For a week now, she had gone to the office dressed as instructed. She had ignored the stares and sudden hush of conversation when she passed. Her boss understood her situation, though privately he admitted with a wry smile that he was not delighted, amused may be. She had put off going to England to visit her father and had called her mother to explain the situation.

  “Come when you can. His condition is stable,” Mei Yin had said. So An Mei stayed on and waited. Yet, Hussein had not called nor could she get hold of him.

  A whole gamut of emotions passed over her: fear, hurt and worries. They left her thoughts in a maelstrom. She sat, motionless. Finally, she decided to go to Kemun. She would leave immediately to see Hussein and to find out why he had not been in touch and then she would leave for Oxford. She must see her father.

  Chapter 20

  The driveway was jam-packed with limousines. Crowds of people milled outside the gate; photographers with cameras held high snapped pictures, men and women pushed each other to see what was happening beyond the gates, their hands grabbing at the metal bars that separated them from the residence.

  “What is happening?” wondered An Mei, her face pressed to the taxi’s window as it turned into the driveway.

  “Berhenti! Stop!” commanded a guard.

  She wound down her window and flagged the plastic disc that Hussein insisted she carried.

  “Minta maaf, I beg your pardon,” said the guard. He clicked his heels to attention and stepped back hastily waving the taxi on.

  An Mei tapped on the glass panel that separated her from the driver.

  “Stop over there,” she instructed. She paid the driver, got out and walked up the steps to the entrance of her in-law’s house, waving her identification card at the guards who stepped forward to block her progress. They all retreated hastily, bowing their heads in the process. They did not recognise her. They were not expecting her.

  “I’ll ask,” said a guard. He went to the phone booth. He picked up the telephone, a black clumsy heavy instrument in his white-gloved hand. “Puan Noraidin is here. What do you wish me to do?” He listened in silence; his brow creased into a puzzled frown, then he hung up. He marched smartly to catch up with An Mei.

  “This way, please,” he said. They walked through the splendid hallway, past the stately official rooms and into the glass covered courtyard. She stopped. Seated in an alcove of carefully arranged bamboo was Hussein, his head dropped into the palms of his hands. Next to him was Shalimar, her tear-stained face jerked up at An Mei’s entrance. Her eyes beseeched An Mei’s. Facing Hussein and Shalimar, their backs towards An Mei, were Rahim, Faridah and Ahmad.

  “I am sorry but this was exactly what I found when I went to my sister’s room,” An Mei heard
Ahmad say. “Hussein was on her bed and my... my sister, damn her soul for the shame brought to my family, was in his arms. Her bedclothes were dishevelled and he, he was naked!”

  Hussein’s head shot up. He did not see An Mei. “I do not know how I came to be in her bed. Believe me. I did not go to Shalimar. I have no recollection.”

  An Mei saw his bloodshot eyes, the fear and bewilderment in his face. Her own heart was thumping.

  “What?” Ahmad shouted. “Are you accusing my sister of seducing you and forcefully taking you to her bed. If you did not go to her, then somehow she must have forced you into her bed! Do you wish to add more shame to my family?”

  Hussein turned to face Ahmad and as he did he caught sight of An Mei standing at the entrance. His face turned a bright red. “Please, you have to believe me,” he appealed to An Mei, “I do not know how I came to be in Shalimar’s bed. I remember nothing.”

  Desperately, he reached out for Shalimar’s hands. He shook them. They lay limp under his.

  “Tell them the truth. Tell them nothing happened.”

  Shalimar remained silent. She looked up at her brother, Ahmad. An Mei saw the fear in her eyes before she turned her gaze towards the floor.

  “Malu! The shame!” cried Faridah clasping both hands to her ears as though she was trying to block out the unpleasantness. She placed her head on her husband’s shoulder and sobbed. “Do something,” she cried.

  “If I can make a suggestion,” said Ahmad to Faridah and Rahim. “I do not wish any unpleasantness. All I want to do is restore the honour of my sister, the honour of my family. Betroth them.”

  “No!” cried An Mei. “You can’t do that. We have just got married.”

  “A mistake,” snarled Faridah. “Yes, a bad mistake. If you love him, why don’t you stay with him here in Kemun and stand by what he does? Why do you abandon him to his loneliness? The consequence of your actions is before you. And you dare to protest and refuse him the chance of rescuing himself from this... crisis... dilemma.”

  “I did not abandon Hussein. I was waiting for him to join me in KL.”

  Hussein jumped up. “I told An Mei to stay in KL to be out of your way and your displeasure. I was, in any case, to spend half my time, if not more, in the capital to attend to matters of the House once I am elected. That is why she remained in KL.”

  “Look, I do not care about the issues between yourselves. I would like the matter of my sister’s honour resolved,” interjected Ahmad. He stepped between Hussein and his mother. He did not want a standoff between mother and son. It would not help his cause. He glared at An Mei and Hussein. He was bristling with self-righteous indignation.

  “The house is surrounded by the paparazzi outside, waiting for news. What do I tell them? Do I tell them that my sister has been molested... raped... or do I tell them that she is to be married to Hussein?”

  “How do they know? Who sent for them?”

  “At the moment, it would seem they know nothing. But someone must have alerted them that a story is about to unfold from within these walls,” said Ahmad. “I will, of course, tell them nothing if things are resolved amicably.

  The security guard looked guiltily from Ahmad to Faridah and her husband to Hussein and Shalimar. Ahmad had instructed him to alert the reporters that an important announcement was to be made at the residence that evening and he only did as he was instructed.

  Five pairs of eyes turned towards An Mei.

  “Will you agree to this? Under Muslim law, your agreement is essential for a husband to take another wife. Of course, he must treat all of his wives equally,” explained Rahim. “My son’s future lies with you.”

  *****

  The crowd was dispersing. Slowly, people were drifting away. Cameramen, tired of waiting lowered their cameras. Some were already packing away their equipment while others were lighting up cigarettes to mark an end to a busy day of waiting for a drama to unfold.

  An Mei released the drapes, allowing them to fall back to their original position to block her view of the front drive, the gates and beyond. Her voice was cold. “So they have been fed the news that they have been waiting for,” she surmised.

  “No, they were promised that they would be the first to know, once we are ready to give them news of an important occurrence. We have not told them anything yet,” replied Hussein. He sat dejected, humbled by his recent experience. “I meant what I said earlier in the courtyard. I have no recollection and do not know how it happened.”

  She burst into a giggle, a harsh hysterical gurgling driven by desperation, disbelieve and hurt. There was no humour in her face when she turned to him.

  “No recollection of a consummation of an act of love? Shalimar will be insulted!”

  With a sudden change of mood, she went to him. She pummelled his chest, hitting him with all the force she could muster.

  “How could you? How could you? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Why if you were so desperately lonely, didn’t you ask me to come to you? I would have. I would have. Instead, I waited for you.” Her body shook uncontrollably.

  “But I did call. You were not in, even in the early hours of the morning. Where were you?”

  “I was with Aunt Nelly.” She pushed him away. “How dare you try to pin the fault on me. How dare you doubt me? Does it give you an excuse to go with Shalimar?”

  “Listen someone is trying to separate us,” he said. He caught hold of both her hands and held them to him.

  “The more I think of it, the more I believe that the whole thing has been fixed,” he said. “This has all the makings of what happened previously... before we got married.”

  She struggled, but he maintained his grasp.

  “My not being able to get hold of you, nor you me,” he said. “I did not go to Shalimar. In fact, I have not even had time to speak to her all these weeks in Kemun. I was just going from campaign to campaign. I was exhausted at the end of each day, so much so that mother had to concoct all sorts of strengthening potions to revive me. All I remember was going to the opening ceremony of this shopping complex in the town, participating in the dinner as a guest of honour and being driven home. I do not remember the journey and I certainly have no recollection of being driven to Ahmad’s house or of seeing Shalimar. I must have blacked out in the car.”

  She snatched her hands away and turned to leave. She walked, her back straight and proud, but two steps away, she turned back to face him.

  “At this moment, all I know is that you will have a second wife! And I cannot bear it.”

  She could not check her tears. She did not want to cry, but it was like a floodgate over which she had no control. It rose from her chest and came out like a moan that shook her very being.

  “What will you have me do? If I don’t take her as a wife, Ahmad will see that I am finished.” He pulled her to him. “Please believe me.”

  She shook her head. She felt numb. She felt she would drown under the weight that had gathered in her heart.

  “I don’t know,” she confessed, “I don’t know what I should do.”

  *****

  Nelly sat silently listening to An Mei. They were in Nelly’s house. An Mei had gone directly to her after flying back from Kemun. When An Mei finished she clasped her in her arms, rocking her gently, soothing her with little kisses.

  “Yow mang, yow tak ta seong,” she said. “If you have life, you can think and find a solution. Do not despair.”

  They sat cradled together with Nelly rocking gently forward and back, as though putting a child to sleep, and with time An Mei’s sobbing ceased. She felt a calm descend on her. She felt her eyes, heavy and swollen, close. She heard Nelly’s voice, soft and soothing.

  “You will have to try to make the best of a bad situation. Do you love Hussein? Do you believe in him?”

  An Mei nodded. She believed in Hussein; she could not believe that he would betray her in such a way. Yet at the same time, she was angry and held him accountable for the situation. Why
did he allow himself to be manoeuvred in such a disastrous way?

  “Then, you might well have to accept his marriage to Shalimar,” advised Nelly. “Don’t make a rash decision. But also don’t let your actions be governed by pride and hurt.”

  Nelly was profoundly shaken by the turn of events. She felt An Mei’s hurt as if she was the one who had been cheated. A sigh escaped her as she took An Mei in her arms again. “A marriage is sacred; it is not a union to go into and discard the following day. But it also shouldn’t be a millstone that ties you until death if it is clearly not working. You have to think about it carefully for yourself. Go to your father and mother. Away from it all, you might be able to think more clearly what to do.”

  “Thank you, Thank you for not saying, I told you so,” whispered An Mei.

  Chapter 21

  Mei Yin tucked the blanket firmly around Ming Kong’s knee, released the brake of the wheel chair, and pushed it towards the newly extended arrival hall in Terminal 3 at Heathrow. Throngs of people were heading purposefully in the same direction. She wheeled the chair suddenly to the left to avoid three young children running helter scatter after their parents.

  “You shouldn’t have come. She would not expect it. It is too soon after your heart attack. Really, Ming Kong, you should take it easy.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t fuss. I am not dead yet. I owe her that much. All these weeks in the hospital and at home, have given me time to think and mull over the hurtful things I have said to her. Nelly and I had a long conversation on the phone. Well, you were part of it, so you know. She made me realise the folly of my action. Perhaps, if I had listened and not just set the rules and expected them to be followed, all this would not have happened.”