House of Trembling Leaves, The (5 page)

Having carried the guilt around in her chest for days like an undigested egg, she now felt an indisputable freedom taking hold, a self-reliance that hadn't been there before. Her heart felt lighter, her eyes brighter; satisfaction at having defied her family stole over her.

She returned to her sketchbook and tore out a page from its middle. It was a pencil drawing she'd done weeks before of her home, Tamarind Hill. Turning away from the wind, she pulled a matchbox from her pocket and set the sketch alight.

She felt like a bird in the open sky.

Sum Sum removed her black cloth shoes at the threshold, as was the Malay custom. She stood barefoot, breasts squashed into Lu See's tight blue sundress, feeling the cool sea air slide around her legs. With her tribal toe rings contrasting against the dark carpeting, she assessed the first-class suite. She marvelled at the luxurious sheer sea-green curtains, the marble-topped tables and the vases of pale pink coral.

‘‘Welcome aboard the MS
Jutlandia
. We will be calling at the Nicobar Islands, Colombo, Bombay, Aden, Tobruk, Lisbon and Felixstowe before heading for our final destination Copenhagen. And if you come this way, Miss Apricot,'' said the Chinese cabin boy, ‘‘your bedroom adjoins your cousin's room. Queen beds as requested.''

‘‘
Cousin?
'' Sum Sum exclaimed, looking directly at the cabin boy. ‘‘I'm not her-''

‘‘Yes, thank you!'' Lu See interjected, pressing a Straits dollar into the young man's hand. ‘‘Just leave the trunk by the window. We'll sort it out later.''

‘‘Enjoy the rest of your journey,'' the cabin boy said, shutting the door with a soft click.

When they were alone Lu See fluttered her eyelashes at Sum Sum – little moth wings of amusement. ‘‘What? You actually expected me to stick you in steerage, sharing bathrooms and breathing space with all those pimply-arsed men? You should be so lucky.''

Sum Sum did a little victory jig across the carpeted floor. She felt the air escape her lungs in a wheeze of laughter and instinctively she reached out and touched Lu See's face, whose cheekbones were so high and angular they often threatened to break free from beneath the skin. ‘‘Seven years! Seven years and you never surprised me like this before!''

Lu See smiled. ‘‘Has it really been seven years?''

‘‘Almost, lah. March 1929. Same year my father died.'' Sum Sum recalled the first day they'd met, when they were both only twelve years old. ‘‘Your mother shepherded me into breakfast room and announced that I was to be the new laundry amah, remember?''

‘‘You avoided everybody's eyes and turned your face away.''

‘‘Towards the door, to hide my tears.'' She nodded. ‘‘I was so homesick. I felt like an imposter in your house. Fresh off the train, lah. I remember the long journey in that iron coffin. I came via Assam, Mandalay and Siam.
Tickety-tak, tickety-tak
, all night long. And you, I remember this skinny, cheeky little girl with your hair cut above the collar.''

‘‘School regulations. All hair had to be cut above the collar.''

‘‘Your mother said,
Sit up straight, Lu See!
You were always being warned by your parents, no? Always same thing: no more biting your nails, stop slouching at dinner table, never forget to wash hands after pee-peeing.''

‘‘Which I never did!''

‘‘And then you took me by the hand, no?''

‘‘And I led you through the house.''

‘‘
Aiyoo!
So many dark corridors! It was still gas-lit in those days.''

They tripped over each other's words, laughing.

‘‘We both sat down in the back, at the servants' table to share a bowl of
mee hoon
noodles.''

‘‘And you told me not to chew with my mouth open!''

‘‘Did I really?''

‘‘Yes, lah.''

‘‘We played a round of Chinese chequers. Then I went to throw small stones on to the roof to chase the monkeys away, but all you wanted to do was read your letter.''

‘‘You know, for weeks and weeks I carried that letter from my mother in my tunic pocket.''

There was a long pause. Sum Sum remembered every word of the letter. It said now that she was a fatherless daughter she had to be respectful and clean, to live a decent life, to honour the memory of her ancestors and to not be scared of the thunder. She remembered, too, the Himalayan sun breaking through the clouds; the deer hides used as groundsheets for sleeping; her mother warming her pink, stiff fingers over the teepee of flames as Sum Sum threw more kindling and bark resin on the fire. The horse and yak caravan had taken them to within sight of the Indian border. The journey across the mountains had taken sixteen days. It was here that they would say their final goodbyes. Sum Sum felt the prayer box amulet being secured around her neck and the shoulder bags being hitched in place. She was crying so hard that when she looked at her mother her image blurred and wavered. They pressed the palms of their hands to each others' cheeks. Then her mother pulled her into her arms before Sum Sum could see the tears streak down her face. Sum Sum tried to speak but could say nothing; it was as if someone had placed stones in her mouth. When they pulled away, her mother's eyes shot towards the distant hills to the south and she tipped her head. It was time to go.

At the time she never thought about whether Malaya would be different to Tibet. She did not know that there might be another way to live, unfamiliar foods to eat, outlandish customs and habits and languages to comprehend. Nobody told her anything. All she wanted to do was make her mother proud.

Sum Sum shook her head forcefully at the memory. Her teeth bit into her lower lip. Seconds later she was busying herself with the unpacking, putting things away, fastening cocktail dresses and cheongsams on to padded wooden hangers, arranging toiletries, unwrapping this and unfolding that. She retrieved Lu See's brass statuette of Ganesha, the Hindu elephant-headed god, and positioned it by the bed.

Lu See went over and rubbed his pot belly. ‘‘We'll need all the help we can get from this fellow - God of new ventures and remover of obstacles.''

‘‘Remover of obstacles?
Aiyo
, you sound like you're constipated.''

Lu See cracked open the window. The distant sounds of the swing band on the promenade deck floated down from above. Springboarding into a yoga headstand, she closed her eyes and waited for the enjoyable rush of blood to her cheeks. She glanced at her watch, upside down. ‘‘I fancy a walk. You want something to eat?''

‘‘Can, lah.'' Sum Sum sighed, coiling her prayer beads round her wrist. ‘‘But I still think we should have bought some coconut candy at the quayside. I miss my tongue-touchers already.''

‘‘Yes and we would have been collared by Uncle Big Jowl if you had done.''

They strolled along the Lido deck under parasols, watching a group of people play an impromptu game of shuffleboard. Three stewards with braiding on their shoulders cruised the deckchairs with pitchers of iced lime juice. Both Lu See and Sum Sum accepted a glass and sipped the cool drinks, relishing the cold against their lips.

A little further on, they came across a tall European man holding a filbert brush. He stood by his easel wearing a blue blazer with gold buttons over a white shirt and white linen trousers. His teeth looked too large for his mouth. To his left a muscular, well-groomed Indian in a khaki safari suit was holding up a holland umbrella, shielding the canvas from the sun.

Lu See stood behind the European for a while and then cleared her throat.

‘‘God, Christ! You scared me half to death.''

She asked, ‘‘Are you the captain?''

‘‘Do I
look
like the captain?''

‘‘Yes, actually, you do.''

‘‘Well, I'm not.''

‘‘Where is the captain?''

‘‘Hell if I know.''

Her head tilted to one side to look at the canvas. She made out some curvy blue and white lines that resembled waves with a blue purple blob in the middle. ‘‘It's obviously a boat on the sea.''

‘‘No, it's a picture of Edinburgh.''

‘‘It is not.''

‘‘Why would I lie?''

‘‘So you're telling me that's not a boat?''

‘‘No, it's a bus travelling down Princes Street.''

‘‘Where are the buildings?''

‘‘I haven't done them yet, have I?''

‘‘Why are you staring out to sea but painting pictures of Edinburgh?''

‘‘It's a free world.'' He paused. ‘‘All right if you must know, my family's originally from Scotland.''

At which point Sum Sum came forward and belted out a repertoire of Scottish sounding phrases she'd picked up from the Glaswegian chaplain who called on the Teohs each month: ‘‘Och, aye, the kirk roof still needs ah-mending. Milk no sugar if ye will. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, Amen. I'll see ye in a wee while, lassie.''

‘‘For the love of Rita! Bit of a fruitcake, isn't she? Perhaps your friend could do with a hat. The hot sun, you know. Those paper parasols don't do much good.''

‘‘Oh, don't mind her. She's very excitable. My name's Lucy, by the way. Lucy Apricot.''

‘‘Stan Farrell,'' he said, extending a hand. Lu See took it and felt his fingers close around hers.

‘‘We're off for lunch,'' Lu See said.

‘‘I don't eat lunch.''

‘‘Everybody eats lunch.''

‘‘I had a big breakfast.'' He removed a sweet from his pocket. ‘‘Fancy a gumdrop?''

‘‘You're a very odd man, Mr Stan Farrell. Are you getting off at Felixstowe?''

Stan sucked his oversized teeth, disappointed. ‘‘'Fraid I get off in Bombay. I'm finishing my senior police officer training in Colaba.''

‘‘So you're a bobby.''

‘‘Probationary Inspector at your service, marm.'' He clicked his heels.

Lu See glanced at the well-groomed Indian. ‘‘And who is he?''

‘‘This is Aziz Humzaal, my orderly.''

‘‘Hello, Aziz.''

Aziz wiggled his head and pressed his right hand to his heart.

‘‘Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr Farrell. Sum Sum and I are off to find some food.'' She twirled her parasol. ‘‘See you later, no doubt.''

As she turned to leave, Stan said, ‘‘I do, however, always partake of a midday meal on Fridays. I skip lunch every day of the week except for Friday. I saw on the bulletin board that tomorrow's curry day. Want to join me?''

Lu See looked at Sum Sum and shrugged. ‘‘Yes, all right. That sounds jim-dandy.''

‘‘Jim who?''

‘‘Jim-dandy, oh never mind. We'll see you Friday.''

The girls made their way towards the main dining room. Lu See smiled to herself.

Sum Sum glanced over her shoulder and pinched her nose. ‘‘He smelled of boiled prawns.''

‘‘No, he did not.''

‘‘I'm telling you he
did
, lah. Made me want to fry him in ginger and sesame oil.''

‘‘He was quite handsome all the same.''

‘‘Handsome? He looked like he was trying to eat a corncob through a tennis racquet. Teeth spilling out like prison escapees.''

‘‘Aziz was nice-looking though, don't you think?''

‘‘No.''

‘‘Oh really? Well if you don't find him handsome why are you blushing?'' she teased.

‘‘I'm not blushing. Just hot, lah.''

‘‘Hot to trot for Mr Aziz. I can see you like him.''

‘‘
Aiyoo!
Don't put words in my mouth, lah!''

Amused, Lu See scratched her nose to cover her smile. Sum Sum always spoke of men's looks in this vague sort of way, as if to imply that they made no impression on her; it was something Lu See always saw through.

When they returned from lunch, Lu See found a note slid under her door. Laughing, she read it aloud to Sum Sum:

S
tarted,
F
arted,

S
tumbled,
F
ell,

S
ee you
F
riday,

S
tan
F
arrell

 

Later, still in her cabin, Lu See dipped her pen into the inkstand and wrote:

Dear Second-aunty Doris – well I've done it! I'm aboard ship and on my way to Europe. The money you gave me, all 2,000 Straits dollars, is safely locked up in the Captain's personal strongbox and as soon as I reach Cambridge I will open a bank account to receive the monthly allowance you so kindly offered to wire over. Once I get settled I will begin to look into sourcing a pipe organ for the new church to be built in Po On Village. I did some research and came up with a number of firms that may be able to help us: Conrad P. Hughes in London, Brinkley & Fosler of Yorkshire, and Harrison & Harrison who were responsible for the King's Chapel organ. Let us pray that I can find something suitable (and within budget) and have it shipped to Malaya in time for the memorial service planned for Christmas. Donating an organ to the church and dedicating it in Tak Ming's memory is an admirable idea – I know that he would have approved.

As for my own situation, how can I thank you enough for helping me? How can I ever repay you? Thank you for believing in me when nobody else in the family did.

Wish me luck with my Girton interview. My old headmaster at Bing Hua has already received a reply from the college and I am due to meet with the Mistress and the tutors on March 2nd so fingers and toes crossed!

I will write again soon.

God bless you.

Your loving niece – Lu See

 

She replaced the pen on the writing table and looked around to find Sum Sum sitting cross-legged on the floor going through a set of photographs. ‘‘What are those?'' she asked.