The Plantation (13 page)

When Roland returned later in the morning their hot breakfast of toast, eggs, smoked fish or kedgeree and fruit was ready. He then bathed and changed and returned to work, reappearing after midday. Sometimes they lunched with Roland’s father at the big house where they were seated in the dining room and served a three-course meal. Margaret paid attention to the menu so she could ask her cook to prepare similar dishes – chicken à la king, steak and kidney pudding, mulligatawny soup. Sometimes there was a visitor passing through and one day she was thrilled to see Dr Hamilton, who had called on Eugene before heading up-country.

‘Have you heard from your lovely mother?’ asked Dr Hamilton. ‘We had a splendid time in KL while you were at Fraser’s. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see her before she left. Had a bit of an emergency at the hospital, if I remember correctly.’

‘Mother is settling back in at home and sends her best wishes to you,’ said Margaret.

‘And how are you settling in, my dear?’ asked the kindly doctor.

‘Everything is wonderful. I feel very spoiled. I’m learning the household and other duties,’ she answered.

‘A tip, don’t tread on the houseboy’s toes, they like everything to remain status quo,’ said the doctor. ‘But you mustn’t let the others think they can raid the larder either, if you know what I mean. There is always a bit of leniency, a closed eye here and there, which they consider their right and due, but if they think they can hoodwink you, they will.’

‘Oh, Roland has taught me that and I’m not about to be taken advantage of, or thought of as a softie,’ said Margaret firmly, and the doctor patted her shoulder.

‘Excellent. You’ll fit in marvellously. I’m looking forward to our tennis tournament. All meant to be fun, but those devils take it frightfully seriously. I’m the umpire.’

‘That’s at the Stevenson’s place, isn’t it,’ said Margaret.

‘Right. Jolly nice setup they have. Excellent court. Two weeks after your little boating extravaganza, I hear. Sorry I can’t make that, have to get around the district, you know.’

*

Dearest Mother, Dad and Bette,

Where has the time gone? Surprisingly the weeks have flown by and I thought I might find time hanging heavily on my hands. Far from it! Since I last wrote I feel I have settled into our bungalow and my trunks have arrived and been unpacked so I feel a lot more comfortable with some of my things around me.

     Roland and his father have been busy getting a shipment of rubber ready to send down to Singapore but we still find time to enjoy the best part of the day together – a G & T for me and Roland’s stengah on the verandah at sunset. Cookie makes delicious ‘nibbles kechil’ (that means small eats) and we share our news.

     There was much excitement last Friday when a snake was found curled up around the Shanghai pitcher in the laundry. It was a huge thing, brightly coloured, and I believe quite dangerous. But the gardener dispatched it with a parang – those lethal large knives they carry to clear the jungle. I do feel I am getting a little more used to the idea of wildlife being about, though in the rubber trees one sees mainly birds, but you hear the monkeys shrieking at night. Sometimes we go over to the big house for drinks and dinner with Roland’s father and he does enjoy telling me stories of his hunting trips – and has the trophies to prove it! The jungle is all around us so who knows what creatures could be lurking. While the plantation has been cut from mostly secondary jungle, I always have the feeling that if the plantation was not maintained and the jungle kept back, we’d be swallowed up in no time and who would know we were ever here? But of course I wouldn’t say that to Roland. The Elliotts have worked so hard to establish Utopia.

     Hamid, my father-in-law’s driver, has taken us into Slim River several times which is quite some distance away, an hour or more, but it’s been very interesting to see this little town, which is very colourful and filled with stalls and local food places. Roland loves to eat the local snacks like murtabak, which is like an apple turnover but filled with spiced meat and egg with pickles and cucumber to accompany it. I ate a very tasty ikan baka – a grilled local fish. As you can see I’m learning quite a few Malay words. The servants speak far too fast and sing-song for me at present, but I’m getting the hang of it!

     Roland knows of a wonderful waterfall and hot springs in the area, but he says that it’s very difficult to get to them.

     I have even started a garden plan. When we visit other plantations – such fun – I come back with an armful of cuttings. Some of the gardens around the old established bungalows are very charming and things grow very quickly here. Our English friends are always amazed at how fast plants pop up.

     Dr Hamilton stopped in for lunch last week and sent his best wishes. And I played tennis with the DO’s wife, whom you met at my wedding and she asked to be remembered to you and hoped you and Father would take a trip here to see us in the not too distant future!

     Give Bette my congratulations on her exam results and her art classes sound most intriguing.

     The houseboy has just brought me afternoon tea and truly exquisite scones. Cookie is a very deft baker! And no, I don’t feel too spoiled as I’m doing my bit and Roland is very pleased that the house runs so smoothly. But I have to admit, I am getting very used to the luxury of help and having no nasty domestic chores at all to do! Don’t forget the coloured buttons to match that piece of material I sent you, please, Mother. There’s an excellent tailor in Slim River and I’m having a light silk suit made for the races coming up. It will be a really big do in KL. Roland will combine it with business but we are looking forward to a few days in the city with friends.

Signing off for now,
Your affectionate daughter,
Margaret

Margaret wrote home weekly, in great detail, about her activities. But the next week her letter home had only one piece of exciting news – she was expecting a baby.

4

Port Swettenham, 1940

T
HE PORT WAS BUSY
. Exports of rubber, copra, pine apples and wood from the large trading houses were swung in giant nets onto the decks of the cargo ships. Incoming goods were offloaded. The passengers on board the steamer from Singapore stood at the railing, watching the activity on the dock, seeking familiar faces as they waited for the gangplank to be raised and permission given to go ashore.

Roland stood head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd on the dock, dressed in his high-collared, white suit. He waved to Margaret, who was holding their son Philip’s hand as the two year old jumped up and down at the excitement of it all. Holding the boy’s other hand was Margaret’s sister, Bette.

Although there was a family resemblance, Bette differed from her sister in that she was shorter and curvier with long, thick hair which the breeze blew about her shoulders. Bette wore a sundress and looked younger than her twenty years. Margaret was wearing a smart suit and a small jaunty hat. Margaret usually tended to dress rather formally, especially since discovering the local tailor with his swathes of Indian silks and Egyptian fine cottons. She ordered fashion magazines that arrived regularly and designs from them were quickly copied by her tailor. Margaret acknowledged that she sometimes overdressed, but she felt that there was a standard to maintain in being Mrs Roland Elliott of Utopia plantation, especially as their busy social life seemed to demand an up-to-date wardrobe. It was an indulgence she said was justified and she rarely asked for anything for the house any more after an initial flurry of curtain and cushion making. Even the baby’s room had been kept somewhat basic. Margaret, however, did not extend the same restraint to her garden, which she loved. She had designed it herself and made sure that it was attended each day by the gardener. It had started to look quite beautiful.

The gangplank was in place and Roland smiled as he watched his son drop his mother’s hand and dart between adults, dragging Bette with him as he forged his way to the bottom.

Roland caught him and swung him high in the air. ‘Hello, young man. My, how you’ve grown! Did you miss your papa?’

In reply the little boy flung his arms around Roland’s neck, squeezing him tight.

Roland held out his hand to Bette. ‘Lovely to meet you, Bette. How was the trip?’

‘Wonderful. I’m so excited to be here. I think Philip has missed you.’ She turned to look for Margaret. ‘I must help Margie. Goodness knows where our bags have gone.’

‘They’ll be fine. Despite the apparent chaos, there is a system to all this. Hamid will sort out things. Hello, my dear.’ He untangled Philip and balanced him on his hip as Margaret caught up with them. He embraced Margaret and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘Good trip? The boy was good?’

‘Spoiled rotten. But everyone thought him splendid. It will be good to get him back into a routine at home, though. Three months in Brisbane was too long to be away. I certainly missed the amah’s help,’ she added. ‘You’ve met Bette?’

‘Yes. We can talk in the car. Hamid will get the luggage. Let’s get out of this crush. This must be a bit overwhelming for you, Bette.’ Roland led the way with Philip now riding on his shoulders.

‘I’m so excited to be here. This is so exotic,’ said Bette. ‘All the hustle and bustle, not as big as Singapore, but just as colourful.’

Roland glanced at her bright eyes and happy smile as she gazed about. ‘There’s lots more to see. Let’s start with a cold drink before we start our journey,’ he said. Margaret linked her arm through Roland’s as they walked along the dock.

‘How was everything in Brisbane? Your family is well? They must have enjoyed having Philip around. We all missed having him about the place here.’

‘He was the centre of attention. But it’s been tiring managing him on my own. Bette helped of course. Mother enjoyed the bedtime story and cooked him cakes and biscuits. The activity helped keep Father distracted. He pours over the newspapers and listens to the radio all the time. He’s terribly concerned about the war in Europe, as is everyone else at home.’

Roland glanced back at Bette. ‘Yes. It’s very worrying.’

‘But surely we’re fine here. The war will never touch Malaya,’ said Margaret firmly.

Roland didn’t look as convinced as his wife, but turned to Bette. ‘So this is your birthday trip? The war in Europe certainly changed any plans you might have had about going there, like Margaret did.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t have gone to Europe anyway. I’ve wanted to come here, to the East, for ages. Margaret’s letters home make it sound so fascinating.’

‘Then we’ll try our best to keep you entertained,’ said Roland.

‘You don’t have to do that. I’m quite good at entertaining myself,’ said Bette cheerfully.

‘She wants to go into the jungle,’ said Margaret with a small smile. ‘I’ve told her that’s a foolish idea. She’ll understand why when she gets there.’

‘We’ve invited some of the neighbours over for a big curry tiffin on Sunday, to meet Bette and welcome you home. The club hasn’t been as much fun these past few months without you, and I’ve been losing badly at bridge without my best partner.’

‘You play bridge now?’ Bette asked. ‘How clever of you, Margie.’

‘One has to keep one’s end up. It’s very popular here.’

Bette sat in the back of the Oldsmobile with Margaret and Philip.

‘There’s not a lot to see,’ warned Margaret. ‘Endless jungle, plantations and a few villages. A small town or two.’

‘But that’s exactly what I want to see,’ said Bette. ‘I’ve brought my sketchpads and watercolours. I just know I’m going to love being here.’ She glanced at her sister. ‘Thanks so much for inviting me. And you too, Roland.’

‘It’s lovely for Margaret to have your company. And fun for Philip.’ He glanced back at the boy. ‘You going to show Aunt Bette your favourite toys, eh, young man?’

‘Bet-Bet … play,’ said Philip enthusiastically.

‘Oh goody,’ said Bette. ‘Do you have any pets?’

‘Ah, that’s a moot point,’ smiled Roland.

‘Roland, I asked you to get rid of those animals while we were away,’ said Margaret.