The Other Side of Paradise (27 page)

‘I’ll come over and see how you’re getting on. You can buy me a drink at that posh bar. What’s it called?’

‘The Long Bar.’

‘That’s the one. And I’ll have a Singapore Sling. In fact, I’ll have two.’

The Red Cross driver was hopeless and crashed through the gears.

Susan shouted to her above the whining and the shrieking. ‘I used to drive one of these.’

‘Really?’ The gears shrieked in protest again. ‘They’re jolly hard work, aren’t they?’

They were going down Orchard Road. The bomb damage was still there – all the shelled and burned-out buildings – but otherwise the city looked almost unchanged. She had expected the Japanese to have torn down buildings, built new ones to glorify their victory over the White Devils, to have left their Imperial mark stamped all over their
Syonan
. Not so. The Rising Sun flags had been hauled down, Union Jacks raised in their place and the hotel, no longer the
Syonan Ryokan
, was called Raffles once more. It was now a transit point for army personnel and internees – as many as possible crammed into the luxurious bedroom suites. Nobody danced to an orchestra in the ballroom or dined in splendour at the restaurant in evening dress. Clothes were whatever people stood up in, food was short and, though the Long Bar was open, alcohol was scarce.

But there were ghosts lurking in the shadows. Ghosts from the past. She could hear the murmur of their voices, the echo of their laughter, the beat of their dance music. And the girl she had once been was among them.

Mr Singh still worked at her father’s bank. He welcomed her politely into his office and expressed his condolences.

‘Mr Roper was a most valued customer for many years. We were indeed very sorry to hear of his death. The situation regarding his accounts with us is difficult until we are in possession of all official documents, but the bank would be glad to do anything it can to assist you and Mrs Roper. Mrs Roper is not with you?’

She said, ‘My mother and my grandmother are believed to be in Australia, but I’m still waiting for news of them.’

‘You will join them?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘It would not be advisable for you to stay in Singapore alone, Miss Roper. Much has changed. And there will be more changes. Have you returned yet to your former home in Cavenagh Road?’

‘No.’ It was something she dreaded. ‘Not yet. But the house belonged to my father’s company. I couldn’t stay there.’

‘In any case, there may be nothing left. The house may be a ruin. Do you have funds?’

‘Funds?’

He said gravely, ‘Money to live on. For your daily needs. For your passage to Australia – when the time comes.’

‘No. None.’

‘We must see what can be done. Your late father would wish us to help you as much as is within our power. It will be my pleasure to do so.’

She took a rickshaw to Cavenagh Road. The house was still there but with a desolate, abandoned look. The chicks were rolled down, shutters and windows closed. She paid the rickshaw man and walked slowly up the driveway to the portico. The front door was shut, too, but when she tried the handle it opened.

Inside, the house had been stripped bare. She went from empty room to empty room, downstairs and upstairs. Except for the red carpet on the marble staircase and the black and white chicks at the windows, everything had been taken. Her mother’s English antique furniture, the tables, the chairs, the sofas, the pictures, the mirrors, the beds, the chests, the wardrobes … vanished. And the clothes she had dreamed about in the camp had gone. Saddest of all, the green glass Buddha no longer sat smiling at the foot of the stairs.

She went out on to the west verandah, robbed of its comfy rattan and chintz. The sun was beginning to go down, the sky streaked with crimson above the trees. It would soon be time for Soojal to bring the evening drinks – the
stengahs
, Grandmother’s
gin pahit
, the iced lime juice – and to light the lamps. The ghosts were here, too.

She sat at the top of the steps leading down to the lawn where she had always sat to feed the doves and where they had fluttered down to perch on her shoulders and coo softly in her ear. Their dovecote had gone, so had all the birdcages hanging from the eaves; Hector’s big brass cage too. The lallang had grown feet high, the garden was reverting to jungle.

The grass parted and a small black shape emerged, miaowing loudly. The cat trotted towards her and jumped on to her lap, purring at full volume.

‘Sweep, oh Sweep …’

She buried her face in his fur.

‘You come back,
missee
. You come back.’

She turned to see Soojal on the verandah above. Not a ghost out of the past but the real Soojal, staring at her as though he could scarcely believe his eyes. She stood up, cradling Sweep in her arms, wiping the tears from her cheeks. He had changed a great deal: he was shrunken and stooped, dressed in shabby clothes, and his feet were bare.

‘It has been a long time,
missee
.’

‘Yes, a very long time. How are you, Soojal?’

‘I am quite well, thank you,
missee
. How are you?’

He was probably just as shocked by the look of her as she had been by him.

‘Not too bad, thanks. I came back to see how things were.’

‘I am sorry. Not at all good. I do my best to look after the house but everything has been taken.’

‘Yes, I’ve seen. By the Japs, I suppose.’

‘Not only them. At first some steal, but then they stop. Their officers forbid it. But other people come and take what they want and in the end there is nothing left.’

She said, ‘The
tuan
is dead, Soojal. Did you know?’

‘I hear this. It is very, very sad. He was a very good man. Do you have news of the
mem
?’

‘As far as I know she’s safe somewhere in Australia with my grandmother. I’m waiting to hear.’

‘And you,
missee
? What has happened to you? Where have you been? I find out that you are not in Changi prison with the
tuan
.’

‘I got away on a ship but it was sunk by the Japs. I’ve been in a prison camp on Bangka Island and then in Sumatra – until the Allies came.’

He shook his head. ‘Very bad. Very bad. Japanese very cruel people.’

‘Yes, they can be pretty unpleasant. I expect you found that out too.’ She stroked Sweep. ‘I never thought I’d see Sweep again. Has he been here all the time?’

‘Yes. He stays here and every day I bring food for him. I promise you to look after him, missee. Remember? Like me, he waits for your return. He knows you will come back. He is very sure.’

She swallowed. If she wasn’t careful she’d start to cry again. She waited till she could trust her voice.

‘How about Ghani? How is he?’

‘Ghani tries to look after the Buick for the
tuan
but it is taken by Japanese. They make him drive for them. Treat him very bad. Then he is ill and he dies.’

Poor Ghani with his brown moon-face, creased with so much worry.
Missee go too fast. Not safe. Berenti! Berenti!

‘Li-Ann and the other
amahs
? Cookie?’

‘I have no news. The Japs killed many Chinese.’

‘Amith? Arjun? Kumar?’

‘I do not know. They all disappear. These were very bad times.’

‘What about you, Soojal? What happened to you?’

He spread his hands. ‘I work,
missee
. In Tanglin Club. The Japanese officers are there.’

She could picture them. Strutting about in their ugly uniforms, screaming orders, lolling around, eating and drinking, swimming in the pool.

‘How horrible for you!’

‘I work so I can eat and live, not die. But I come here every evening to the house and I always say to myself that one day the Japanese will go and the
tuan
and the
mem
and
missee
will return.’

She said, ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to come back to live here, Soojal. Nor will the
mem
. Not now that the
tuan
is gone. The house doesn’t belong to us, you see.’

‘I understand this, missee. And I am very sad. Sad for me, and sad for you. It has been very happy here.’

‘Yes, very happy.’ She swallowed again. ‘Would you go on feeding Sweep for me for a while? I’ll come back for him later and take him away with me, if I possibly can.’

‘I will do this willingly for you,
missee
.’

‘Thank you.’ She looked around the overgrown garden. ‘The pond’s empty, I see.’

‘Yes,
missee
. The fish were all taken for food.’

‘And the doves have gone too.’

‘Yes,
missee
, they fly away. Also the other birds. Except one.’

‘Oh? Which one?’

Soojal smiled. ‘He stays here in the trees. I feed him, too, when I come. I bring flower seeds for him and he comes down to eat. He is waiting now.’

She shielded her eyes against the sun. ‘Where? I can’t see anything.’

Soojal lifted his hands and clapped them together loudly. An answering squawk came from the top of the jacaranda tree.

‘
God Save the King! God Save the King! God Save the King!
’

Soojal had hidden the handbag and suitcase that she had left behind in the hall. He brought them to her.

‘I bury them in the garden for you,
missee
.’

Her passport and the boat ticket to Australia were still inside the handbag, and when she opened the suitcase she found her memories. The evening gown of white satin and pink silk roses, the photos in the album, her favourite doll and her books. She sat on the steps with them gathered up in her arms and wept.

Sixteen

THE RAPWI ORGANIZATION
had set up an office in Raffles.

‘We have news of a John Travers,’ one of the officers told Susan. ‘He was taken prisoner in early 1942 and held in Pudu gaol, Kuala Lumpur. According to the Jap records, he was a civil engineer with a British construction company. It sounds as though he’s probably Peter’s father, though I wouldn’t say anything to Peter yet, if I were you. One can’t be absolutely certain.’

It was a man this time – younger than the plump RAPWI woman at the hospital and not nearly as sympathetic. He stared at her, too, and harder.

‘Where is he?’

‘That’s the problem. We’re not quite sure. The prisoners were moved out as soon as it was possible but there’s no actual record of where he was taken. He’s bound to turn up soon.’

‘Peter’s waiting for news. It means an awful lot to him. Can’t you hurry things up?’

‘We’re doing our best, Miss Roper. You must give us time.’

He was immaculately turned out: well-pressed uniform, moustache that looked as though it had been drawn on neatly with a black pencil, plenty of flesh on his bones, no signs of wear and tear. She wondered where he had sprung from. Probably some cushy bolt-hole where the war had conveniently passed him by.

‘Have you heard anything about my mother and grandmother yet?’

‘I’m still waiting for an answer from our Australian colleagues. You must understand, Miss Roper, that you’re not alone in your situation. We have a great many similar cases on our hands.’

‘How about Hua?’

‘The Chinese girl you are looking after? Well, strictly speaking she’s not our responsibility. It seems most unlikely that we shall be able to trace any member of her family. I think it would be far more sensible to approach one of the city orphanages. The nuns have a lot of experience in dealing with such cases.’

‘She’s not a Roman Catholic. She’s been brought up Buddhist.’

He sighed. ‘Does it really matter, Miss Roper? So long as she goes somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think it does, rather. And the Singapore Chinese are very much our responsibility. We’ve already let them down once when we allowed the Japs to take Singapore. I don’t intend to abandon Hua.’

He looked at her coldly. ‘Very commendable, of course. But all we have to go on is that she has an aunt called Su – a very common Chinese name. Do you have any idea how many Chinese there are in Singapore, Miss Roper?’ His tone was sarcastic now.

‘Yes, I do, actually. Over four hundred thousand. At least there used to be, before the Japs started murdering them.’

‘Quite. Well, it’s still a large number, so, as I said, it won’t be easy.’ He had stopped sounding quite so sarcastic. ‘We’ll do what we can.’

She said, ‘Hua has remembered something else that might help. She thinks her aunt may have worked in a shop. She once gave her a jade bracelet that might have come from there.’

The sarcastic note came back. ‘I imagine a great many Chinese shops sell jade, Miss Roper.’

He was quite right, unfortunately.

A few days before this she had taken Hua to the coconut grove by Tiong Bahri Road, where she had once lived. They had stood beside the ditch that had sheltered Susan from the bombs and looked across at the burned-out remains of the settlement, now smothered by jungle greenery. An old Chinese man had shuffled by and Susan had greeted him politely and asked if he had lived there. He had stared at her blankly, without answering. She had pulled Hua forward. Did he recognize her? She had lived in the settlement with her mother and her name was Hua. Her mother had been killed by the bombs. Had he perhaps known her? It had been hopeless. Hua looked nothing like the former doll-like little girl with the fat cheeks and short black hair. She was skinny and her hair was long and she was dressed in Western clothes – navy-blue shorts, a blouse, brown Clarks sandals. The old man had again stared blankly for a moment, and then turned and shuffled away.

She had said to Hua, ‘Do you remember anything about living here? Anything that might give us a clue?’

‘I remember the coconut palms.’

‘Anything else?’

Hua had shaken her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What about your aunt – the one called Su?’

‘She came to visit sometimes. She was very nice. I remember that she used to bring presents.’

‘What sort of presents?’

‘I remember that she gave me a bracelet for my birthday – made of something smooth and green.’