“You dragged him there knowing full well what would happen.”
“My men did it. In hard times, men act like they must.” He hauled her to her feet.
“You took him because you found out about the baby!” She lashed out again landing a slap on his face.
Chun brushed his cheek; he felt the sting where the slap landed. His ears tingled. Without a word, he grabbed her and hoisted her up on his shoulder. “I have no time for hysterics,” he hissed. He ran sure-footed into the jungle.
Chapter 10
AFTER HUGH LEFT, Ruth went into the bedroom and lay on the rattan reclining chair. The chair had served as her bed since she arrived. She could not lie on the bed. Mark had slept with May on it. Images of the two entwined tortured her. She flitted between anger and sorrow. She grieved for Mark, for what they had been and what they could have been, had he not taken this job, had he not been infatuated with this country, so far and so different from the world that was theirs in Somerset. Here in Malaya was a Mark she did not know, had never known. A secret Mark who loved fermented shrimp paste and a Chinese woman, so beautiful and exotic that she, Ruth, could never match up to her. Jealousy rose like bile, hot and rank; she could hardly breathe, it consumed her. Yet despite all the hurt and anger, she loved Mark. The Mark she remembered was not the one grounded here. The Mark she knew had been tender, gentle, honest and loving and remembering that had sustained her during his absence. Believing that made it possible for her to overlook the gradual decline in the frequency of his letters. She had made excuses for him. Never in her wildest dreams when she embarked on the journey to Malaya had she contemplated he could have been with another woman. So Ruth sat, her thoughts flitting from one to the other; from anger to grief and back; from worries about the future to the uncertainties of the present. She was filled with hatred. She hated May, hated her for stealing her husband, and hated her for the situation she was now in. This hate sustained her when everything was falling apart.
The first hint of dawn rose when a shaft of golden sunshine seeped through the window. A cock crowed. The adhan call soared, towering above all other sounds. Ruth pulled a shawl around her. The morning air was damp and surprisingly cool. Fu Yi knocked on the door. She came through with a tray. On it was a pot of coffee, a cup and saucer, milk and sugar, a plate of toast and a can of butter. Fu Yi took one look at her mistress and knew that she had not slept. But it was more than that. Something had changed. There was a hardness in Ruth’s demeanour that had not been there before. She set the tray down carefully, unloading its contents on to the small coffee table by the chair. She glanced quickly at the bed. As on previous days, it had not been slept on. The mosquito netting was still tied to one side and the sheets remained smooth.
“I know about the Master and May.”
Fu Yi pretended she did not hear. She bowed and turned to go.
“Are you going to tell me?”
Fu Yi did not move. Her back was still turned away.
“Please,” said Ruth more softly this time, “tell me.”
Fu Yi turned to face Ruth. “May a good girl. She only sixteen when she came here last year. She not what you think. She never been with anyone.”
“Not too young to steal my husband,” said Ruth dryly. She wanted to retort that she had been eighteen when she met Mark and twenty when she married him. At twenty-two, she felt old compared to a seventeen-year-old slip of a girl. She wanted to ask if Mark loved May. How could she ask such a question? Where was her pride? Did she expect answers that would soothe her pain? What answers could possibly do that?
“May not out to seduce the Master. Master make mistake. It just happened. Such things happen in the tropics between white masters and local girls.”
Ruth snorted. Then she laughed. She shook with laughter. She laughed without mirth. It bounced off the walls. “But she did seduce him,” she said, her lips stretched in a macabre grin. “Things do not just happen! People make them happen.”
Fu Yi looked bewildered. She could not catch what Ruth said. It was said too quickly for her to understand.
“Did May leave to join the Master?” Ruth asked.
Fu Yi shook her head. “May look for Master; she not know his whereabouts.”
At least, Ruth took comfort from knowing that their disappearance was not a lovers’ pact.
“Will you tell me, Fu Yi, if you hear anything at all? It is important. Master is in danger.”
Fu Yi nodded. She kept her eyes down and, after a moment’s hesitation, left the room.
“Where are you, Mark?” Ruth whispered to herself.
***
Bill stood with his shoulders thrown back and legs astride. Behind him a huge map of the state of Perak hung on the wall. The room was packed. Soldiers dressed in khaki green sat, attentive, on metal chairs, faces agog, uncertain as to what would be forthcoming from this new man from Kenya. He wore civilian clothes yet was rumoured to wield more power than their own commander.
“We have a three-pronged strategy in this war against the commies.” Bill paused and looked at each and every individual in the room to let his words sink in. “We round up squatters and put them into settlements. Then we starve and isolate them. This will stop them from being conduits for the insurgents. You have seen both strategies enacted in the past months. Now we begin our next phase. We bomb them. To start with, here, here and here,” he pointed to the various points marked out in red in the map.
“We will be engaging in this in the months to come. More camps will be identified and all will be similarly bombed. We will also sabotage them from within. We will infiltrate their ranks and supply them with self-detonating grenades and bullets. The users will be instantly killed.”
A buzz went round the room; everyone spoke at once. At last there was to be action. Hugh looked on at his men and saw their excitement. He felt cold.
“We’ll match their atrocity,” Bill said, his voice rising as he caught the men’s excitement. “They use fear to force squatters to supply them with food; they use fear to drive planters out of the country; and they use atrocities to weaken us. We’ll do the same to them. They cut off a head; we’ll match it. They cut off a hand; we’ll cut off theirs. We will judge our success by the numbers we kill. I urge you to make a chart of the killings. Shoot to kill! We’ll dispel any notion that they are invulnerable.”
Bill’s eyes challenged Hugh to say different. He knew he wouldn’t. He had the backing of the highest authorities and Hugh knew that.
“The tide is changing,” Bill continued, his cold grey eyes still on Hugh. “We are also winning the jungle people to our side. In the future they will not supply food to our enemies. They will fight by our side. On our part we will not curb their practice of decapitation.”
Someone laughed in response. “Maybe we should encourage it.”
Bill did not reply, his left eyelid closed and opened in a wink. The grin that followed said it all. The men had little doubt as to what they should do.
So, Hugh thought, the rounded-up squatters, squeezed in the middle, suffer. He wondered where May was. Where Mark could be. Was he dead? Would he be numbered among the casualties to come?
***
Mark lay delirious. People floated in and out of his vision. He could not tell if he had imagined them or if they were real. Everything was a blur. He couldn’t move; he burned, sweated and shivered in turn. He did not know where he was or who he was. He drifted in and out of consciousness; his world was a fantasy of moving shadows, of tree branches swaying overhead, of monkeys clambering on trees, of insects and bare-bodied people hovering by his side spilling words he could not decipher, their voices so shrill that he felt his ears hum. At times, they came and opened his mouth and tried to force-feed him. He was too tired to resist; too tired and weak to swallow. Food and water dribbled out from the corner of his mouth; the burning continued.
Chapter 11
CHUN DROPPED MAY unceremoniously on to the ground. They had been running for almost an hour and he was
panting with his exertion. His men crowded round him. They glared at May with open hostility.
“What shall we do with her?” they demanded. They moved closer together joining ranks in their defiance of Chun. They did not want May with them. She was a hindrance. They needed to be back in their camp and to move on. If they were to remain too long at any one place, the British army would be on to them.
The air turned hot and musty with their anger and fear. May felt it and instinctively drew her legs up, clamping them tight.
“We’ll take her back with us.”
“No!” the men cried. “You were supposed to bring your wife and child out from the Settlement. We waited for you. That was already a concession on our part. You bring, instead, this chow hai! Cunt! A string of obscenities followed.
“My wife and son have been taken. Your parents too,” Chun said to May. “I dug a tunnel under the barbed fencing and got into the Settlement and came out the same way. I killed the dogs. I poisoned them or they would be following us. The guards would have found out by now. We don’t have time to stop here to argue.”
“I am not going with you. Leave me here. I won’t tell,” cried May.
“No! We can’t leave you here alive,” said one of the men, “and we certainly would not want to take you with us.” He drew out his revolver and pointed at May. He cocked the gun. Chun sprang forward and caught his hand, forcing it down.
“Shoot and they’ll hear us. Go! Leave her with me. I’ll do the deed. Go now. I’ll join you when I have finished the job.”
The men stood their ground. They did not believe Chun. “Do it! We’ll stay and watch.”
Chun grabbed May’s arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. He slapped her hard across her mouth with the back of his hand. It drew blood. Then he whacked her again sending her head spinning to one side. He spun her around and with one arm across her neck twisted as though he was wringing a chicken’s neck. May blacked out, a stain appeared on her trousers as her bowels emptied. He threw her down.
“Go! We must not lose time. I’ll make sure she is truly dead.” Chun drew out a knife. The men saw him bend over the inert body, his knife poised above her stomach. They turned and ran.
***
Ruth sank her teeth into her nail. A searing pain went through her as she tore at it. Incredulous at what she had done, she stared at her fingers. They were pink and raw and the nails chewed to ragged bits. She was half crazed with anxiety and was barely conscious of what she was doing. No one had been in touch, nor had any ransom notes been received. Each time soldiers passed by the bungalow with a body or bodies slung on poles, she would rush out to see only to be restrained by Fu Yi. When Fu Yi came back with news of killings and bodies found, her whole being shook. At times her heart would beat so fast, she felt she could hardly breathe. She grew thin and restless. Sleep evaded her. They heard nothing about May. May’s parents and Chun’s wife had been taken for further interrogation alongside dozens of others. Ruth wanted to see them. She was refused.
The sitting room with its barred windows seemed increasingly like a prison. She imagined the walls closing in on her. She had to do something. Yet what could she do?
Impatiently she went to the cabinet and took out the letter she had received from Harrison’s and Crosfield. The firm agreed that she could stay on. They had enclosed Mark’s wages. It was a thoughtful gesture. She could now pay Fu Yi. However, they warned that they would not wait indefinitely for Mark’s return. The situation was being reviewed and another manager was likely to be posted to take Mark’s place. The estate could not run on its own. The lines in the letter were like squiggles that went on and on. She couldn’t bring herself to read any further. She crushed the letter and stuffed it into her pocket. She could hear Fu Yi at the door.
Fu Yi came in with a tray of food in her hands. In the past few days she had brought tray after tray, only to leave with each barely touched. This time, it was chicken soup. She prepared it using a whole fresh chicken bought from the open market. A whole chicken was a luxury during a time of shortage, a luxury she had obtained through trading some of the fruits grown in the garden. She laid out the bowl and spoon on the table.
“Eat something! Aiyah! How you deal with problems if you starve and fall ill?” She stood waiting for Ruth to eat. She was not going to leave until the mistress made an attempt.
Ruth sat down and forced a spoon of the broth into her mouth. ‘No more! I just can’t,” she said.
Fu Yi knelt by her and took the spoon from Ruth. She began feeding Ruth as though Ruth was a child, opening her own mouth to urge Ruth on. “You must,” she insisted.
“Any news?” Ruth asked with weary eyes as she forced herself to eat. She was too tired to refuse Fu Yi’s ministrations.
“May still not found. The police took her parents and Chun’s wife away. No one see them since. Alamak! Chan hai cham!” In her excitement Fu Yi began mixing her English with the vernacular. She recalled the stories she heard. Some of Fu Yi’s own family had been rounded up and moved into the Settlement.
“I don’t think May’s parents boleh tahan. Very hard one you know?” Fu Yi opened her eyes wide to demonstrate how she felt. “Questions no stop. They ask, ask until you mad. Prisoners tangkap two years without trial. They sure die. Chun’s wife will be sent back to China. Don’t know what would happen to the child. He born here. Yam kong! “
“And yet they say nothing,” Ruth muttered to herself, marvelling at their resilience. “Surely they must know.”
“May don’t know. She tells me. So how her parents know anything? What can they say? She ran because she frightened. Poor girl! She not want to be...” Fu Yi clamped her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were round with fear.
“So you spoke to her!” Ruth exclaimed.
Fu Yi cowed. Her hand shot up to shield her face as though she expected to be slapped. “So sorry Ma’am. I want to hear no evil, speak no evil, and see no evil.
“When did she come here?” Ruth clutched Fu Yi’s arm. Her fingers dug into the flesh. She shook her violently. Suddenly aware of what she was doing and aghast at her own action, Ruth released Fu Yi. She watched with dismay at the deep red print marks she had left on Fu Yi’s arm.
“Sorry,” Ruth apologised.
Fu Yi took a deep breath. Carefully, choosing her words and ordering her thoughts, she explained. “I saw May just before you came. She very worried about Master. She went missing because she looking for Chun. She wanted him help find Master. Then she got frightened. She tahu that because she went missing for a day the police would suspect her. You see, she related to Chun. But she no idea he is bad. She young, stupid! She thought he knew people that could help her find Master.” Fu Yi dropped down on her knees and kowtowed. “Don’t report me. Please, please! My whole family will be punished. That’s all I know.”
Ruth looked into Fu Yi’s eyes. They were pools of fear. “You swear you have told me everything?”
Fu Yi cringed and nodded vigorously.
Ruth got up. She did not know what she should do. If she were to repeat any of the things divulged by Fu Yi, Mark’s murky love affair would be made public. Telling wouldn’t help find Mark. The police were already searching for Chun and May. It would just ruin his career, should he be found. How could she bear the scandal? More importantly, if Mark were to know that she knew about his affair, it might make their reconciliation more difficult. She was determined not to lose Mark. It was far better to pretend not to know. She turned to look at the cowering cook. Fu Yi had been kindness personified these past days, tending to her needs. She was her only human contact; Ruth needed her. Surely Fu Yi would not lie to her this time. In this atmosphere of distrust everyone was for himself. So how could she blame Fu Yi for doing exactly that? Ruth made up her mind. For the moment at least, she would not say anything.
***
Later that evening, Ruth made herself lie on the bed even when imagination played riot in her mind and even when jealousy and hurt tore her apart
. Did Mark touch May as he touched her? How many times had they made love on this bed? Fu Yi said that May loved Mark. Did he love the girl? She turned to her side and curled into a tight ball. She willed herself to remain on the bed. She had to face her demons. She could not wish the past away. Not sleeping on the bed did nothing. She must accept the past and go forward, even if she could not forgive. She must if she wanted Mark. Did she want him? she asked herself. Could she pack up her bags and leave right now? She thought long and hard. She couldn’t. She loved him despite everything. She could not contemplate a life without Mark. She tossed and turned. Where was he? Was he dead? With each passing day, her hopes dimmed a bit more. Then weariness caught up and she fell into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter 12
THE PLANES SWOOPED down. Treetops sprung to life, branches shook and leaves fell. One by one the bombs dropped; like Easter eggs. The air turned silent. Then a deafening explosion ripped through the sky. Huge clouds of smoke rose and the heavens turned black. The ground burst open. Screams rippled through the jungle. Birds screeched; they flew directionless, en masse, wings flapping, crashing into each other. Black debris rained down like confetti. Within seconds trees were flattened and plants scorched.
Hugh’s platoon watched from afar. Their orders were to shoot any survivors fleeing their way. They knelt low, hidden behind bushes, their guns at the ready. Not many were likely to survive the bombing. Was Mark in the camp? Was he caught in the fire? Hugh had argued against the timing of the bombing. He requested that they wait a few more days until Mark was found. His arguments were brushed aside. “This is war,” Bill reminded him. “Believe me, he is already dead.”
Hugh signalled his men to stay in position. He took three with him to patrol the rear. They could not afford to be surprised from behind. They moved quickly, crouching low. Hugh took out his pistol. They negotiated the thicket of secondary growth. The sun shimmered through the dense overhead canopy of leaves. They reached a river. Hot air rose like steam from the marshy swampland. The smell of decay choked the air. He signalled his men to drop to their knees. The insurgents were familiar with the territory. They knew the swamplands like the back of their hands and could cross them with far greater ease than his platoon. He waited.
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