The Plantation (52 page)

‘I remember Gilbert. I’m sure he would have known how you felt. You just do, you just know …’

Bette nodded, tears in her eyes. ‘He touched my hand before he was shot and I felt everything in that moment, and that it was not to be.’

Tony took her hand and held it as they stood gazing across the valley.

‘I can’t believe I said that. I’ve never told anyone that before. I hardly let myself think about it,’ said Bette finally.

‘I think we have a lot in common,’ said Tony.

After a few moments, Bette withdrew her hand and turned back to the garden. She took a breath, trying to steady herself and regain a sense of normalcy. ‘I try to think about the good times, the times I shared with Gil.’

‘Yes, those years before the war were a lot of fun. I doubt such carefree times will return soon. I remember you that day at the races, very well,’ he added.

‘I know this decade will be different. There’s certainly a lot of talk of change,’ said Bette as they began to stroll through the gardens.

‘So it seems. What plans do you have for the 1950s?’ he asked with a quizzical smile.

Bette shrugged. ‘I don’t really have any plans. I’ve been studying art and working in Sydney, and then Margaret and Roland asked me to come and stay. I was glad to come back to Malaya. Roland is devoted to Utopia and has a big job to re-establish the plantation after the Japanese occupation.’

‘Yes, I can imagine. I know a lot of planters are turning to new crops. I think Roland experimented with palm oil before the war, didn’t he? And there is the problem with the communists and the push to independence,’ Tony said.

‘The communists? Do you really think the British would be forced out?’ asked Bette.

‘The insurgents are a tiny minority. I’m sure when and if independence comes, it will be through co-operation and agreement with Britain. We need each other. But in the meantime, areas of the country are quite unstable,’ said Tony and he glanced at her. ‘It is fortunate that my business can spare me for a bit so that I could accept this invitation. I’m glad I did.’

‘I remember Roland and Eugene telling me something about your business, but apart from saying that you are an excellent businessman, I’m afraid I don’t recall anything else.’

Tony smiled. ‘After my father died I diversified, but at the end of the war it was difficult to export to our traditional markets – Siam, Burma and Sumatra. But being Chinese I was able to overcome these problems through the kongsi.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Bette. ‘What are kongsi?’

‘When the original Chinese immigrants came to Penang they formed associations, or clans, and built clan houses. These were like clubs, in a way, where newcomers could stay, be introduced to important people, given employment and helped to settle into their new city, so they became places to honour the achievements of the family clan. Some of the kongsi are very elaborate. Would you like to visit one?’ he asked.

‘I’d love to, it sounds fascinating. Is there a Tsang kongsi?’

He smiled. ‘Yes. My family has been here for many generations. My father’s ancestors fled persecution from the Manchus and came here not long after Penang was settled.’

‘You have a very colourful family story, Tony. Mine seems very bland in comparison.’

‘I think that all families are interesting. They are made up of individuals and although the family might present a united front to the world, scratch the surface and you’ll find the dominant and gentle, the weak and strong, and people with different talents, tastes and desires,’ he said.

‘Yes, that’s for sure,’ said Bette, laughing. ‘That sounds just like my family.’

They reached the front lawn where people were gathering for the lavish tea and cakes set out on rattan tables covered with embroidered cloths.

Tony held out a chair for Bette and she sat down as Lorraine announced plans for croquet and tennis for those who were interested.

‘Will you be playing?’ Tony asked her.

Bette shook her head. ‘No, I’d like to explore a little. This is such a pretty and unusual setting, and cool enough to go hiking.’

‘Don’t get lost, Bette. Stay on the paths,’ advised Andrew.

‘I’d be happy to go with you,’ said Tony. ‘I know the area, my family have a bungalow up here, although I don’t seem to have much time to use it.’

‘Thank you, but I don’t want to take you away from a game,’ said Bette.

‘Nonsense, a good walk will do me good. And Andrew is right, you can get lost quite easily in the hill country,’ said Tony. ‘Besides I think I’ll enjoy your company more than I would those frenetic tennis players.’

‘You always were quick to corner the prettiest girl at the party,’ Andrew said cheerfully.

In sensible shoes, Bette set off with Tony. In no time at all they were deep in the thick forest.

‘Is this jungle? These trees remind me of what I imagine an old English forest to be like,’ said Bette.

Tony stopped and gazed up at the trees. ‘You’re right. Not all of these trees are native. Some would have been planted here when the first Europeans came – to remind them of home, I expect. You’ll find more original jungle as we go in further.’

‘Are these the secret paths where you brought your girlfriends?’ teased Bette.

Tony laughed. ‘No, I was too shy. When I was young we used to come and stay here in the hot months and the caretaker’s son, a Malay boy, showed me all his favourite places.’

The path soon narrowed, so Tony took the lead. They didn’t talk. Occasionally Tony held back an overhanging branch, or pointed out obstacles like roots and rocks that might trip Bette up, especially as she was constantly craning her neck upwards, looking for monkeys, butterflies, birds, and unfamiliar plants and flowers.

‘Look at those strange plants,’ she said.

‘Pitcher plants.’ Tony took one of the long, hollow, tubular flowers from the vine. ‘See how they hold water. Monkeys have been seen drinking water from them, so they’re sometimes called monkey cups. See, this one is half full.’ He tipped it up and sipped the water. ‘Mmm, sweet. Try some. Actually this flower looks a bit like a saxophone. Do you like dancing?’

Bette nodded, suddenly aware of their closeness as he held the strange plant to her lips to drink the raindrops. She hadn’t been so affected by the physicality of an attractive man for a long time.

‘Good. I’d like to take you dancing. I think I need to put a little fun and laughter back into my life. I haven’t felt inclined to … until now. Would you help me out?’ His dark eyes were warm, a hint of a mischievous smile in their depths.

‘I’d like that. Thank you,’ said Bette.

They stopped by a small pool where water from the peak trickled down the hillside.

‘This trickle is a torrent when the rains come,’ said Tony. He held out his hand and helped her across. ‘We can circle around and come out above the bungalow.’

They continued to meander along the hidden pathways. Once back on the wider, smoother path Tony took her hand again, and Bette was very aware of the smoothness of his skin and the touch of his fingertips.

While it appeared to their hosts, and other guests, that Tony and Bette had an easy friendship, both of them realised that there was a powerful attraction between them. Neither acknowledged this chemistry, but in moments of physical closeness, the brush of an arm, sitting together, both felt as if electricity had crackled between them.

Bette and Tony seemed to like the same things. They were the ones who were up very early sitting on the terrace in the crisp morning air to watch the day begin, sipping hot, sweet coffee. When the group gathered on the terrace after dinner for nightcaps to watch the lights of George Town twinkling below them, Tony and Bette sat side by side, talking softly, looking more at each other than the view.

Tony cheerfully flirted with her, sometimes teasing her to make her laugh. Although he was at least ten years older than she was, Bette found him an interesting combination of youthful exuberance and energy, yet with the wisdom and thoughtfulness of a mature man.

At breakfast one morning, Andrew asked Bette, ‘So what are you two planning for these last days? Anything you’d like us to arrange?’

Bette liked the way he assumed that she and Tony would spend their remaining time together. ‘Andrew, you’ve been so hospitable, I can’t thank you enough. It’s been great.’

‘You’re charming company,’ said Andrew. ‘I do hope we see more of you while you’re here in Penang, Bette.’

‘Me too,’ said Tony. ‘Tell me where you’d really like to go, what you’d like to see while you’re here. I was planning to go back to Penang tomorrow but apparently we’re all expected at Batu Ferringhi, so I’ve changed my plans.’ He smiled at Bette.

‘We’ve all been invited,’ said Andrew.

‘The Gideons’ beach house? I’m looking forward to a swim in the sea,’ said Bette.

‘You might not find it ideal for swimming. But there are some nice spots. Personally I prefer swimming off the islands,’ said Tony. He gave Bette a smile. ‘I now feel I have a special project.’

‘A project?’ she asked.

‘Yes. You. I’m going to show you some of my favourite places. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it,’ said Tony firmly.

Bette was surprised that the Gideons referred to their home as a beach house. It looked more like an English stately home with its gothic windows, a coat of arms above the entrance and stone lions standing on either side of the terrace that overlooked the coastline.

The Gideons’ house party was really enjoyable, made more so for Bette because of Tony’s company. They took long walks along the beach, sat by the pool, or just talked at length. Once Tony asked Bette when was she returning to Australia.

‘I’m not sure. I haven’t made a lot of plans and I left everything open ended.’

‘Bette, when we go back to Penang I’d like you to visit my family home sometime, and meet my children. Would you come?’

Bette looked into his eyes and nodded. Tony leaned towards her as Bette’s eyes closed, waiting for the touch of his lips on hers. A fuse had been ignited and Bette had no idea whether it would surge brightly and explode or simply fizzle out, but there was no stopping the consequences, nor did she want to do so.

By the time Tony drove Bette back to Penang and to the E&O Hotel at the end of the short holiday, there was an unspoken bond between them. The passion between them was restrained. Bette didn’t like to think too far ahead to the time when she’d be leaving Malaya. Now was the time to enjoy herself, not to wonder what her future held.

Tony courted Bette assiduously. He arrived at her door at the hotel with gifts, sweets and flowers. He took her to lavish restaurants and clubs. When she said that she had no suitable clothes for such occasions, he insisted on buying her a beautiful gown to wear dancing. He drove her around the city in his Allard K2 sports car. She’d never ridden in a convertible before and she loved the red twoseater. Tony assured her that she could drive it any time she wished. Bette could never remember a more glorious time. He showed her the backstreets, the temples and the markets, and, wherever they went, Tony introduced her to his friends.

After a week he announced, ‘You’ve met my friends, now I’d like you to meet my family. My mother-in-law has invited you to tea, with the children.’

Even after the Gideons’ stately beach house at Batu Ferringhi, Bette was unprepared for the grandeur of the Tsang’s large rose-hued mansion, set back from a wide boulevard amid formal gardens. Tony possessively took her arm as they approached the entrance and entered the elaborately carved front doors with coloured glass lanterns that hung on either side. Bette was aware of shadowy figures in the cool dark rooms and the sweet smell of incense. She heard children’s laughter as Tony guided her into a large open-air courtyard surrounded by stone walls, where water splayed from a fountain as though it was dancing in the sunlight.

Two children came running towards them, abandoning their amah in her black trousers and starched white jacket. Everyone was smiling. The younger child, a girl of about ten, flung herself into her father’s arms, the other, a young boy about Philip’s age, smiled at Bette as Tony introduced her to them.

‘This young man is Toby and the little miss is Connie.’

‘I’m so pleased to meet you both,’ said Bette. ‘Thank you for having me to your house.’

‘James and Eunice are both at boarding school in England. Toby will be heading there shortly, as well,’ said Tony.

Both children greeted Bette warmly. Their manners were impeccable and any curiosity they had about their father’s friend was carefully hidden, but Bette thought that they seemed to be kindly disposed towards her. Then she became aware of another woman walking slowly into the courtyard. She was dressed in a batik sarong topped by a richly patterned silk batik tunic fastened with carved buttons and a jewelled clip. Her hair was pulled smoothly, tightly, into a bun, which was pinned with a jade ornament.

‘Bette, I would like you to meet Madam Chang, my mother-in-law,’ said Tony.

‘Thank you for inviting me,’ said Bette, taking the fingertips of the hand the older woman held out.

‘You are welcome to the house of Tsang.’ She turned and spoke swiftly in the baba patois of Malaya and Hokkien to the servants standing behind her. Then she said to Bette, ‘Tea is ready upstairs.’ Her English was clear and very precise. ‘You are the first Australian lady we have had to tea.’