Always in My Heart (3 page)

He sprang to his feet, crushed her to him and smothered her face in kisses. And then he was opening a jewellery box and fumbling with the diamond ring that nestled within the velvet lining. ‘This was my mother’s,’ he said softly as he placed it on Sarah’s finger, ‘and I give it to you with all my heart.’

‘I will treasure it always,’ she breathed, noting how perfectly it fitted, and how simply beautiful the solitaire
diamond was as it caught the light from the flickering lanterns. She looked back at him with rapture. ‘I want to tell the world,’ she said. ‘I want to wake up the whole house and shout it from the rooftops.’

‘Darling girl, so do I.’ Philip drew her back into his arms. ‘But I’ve yet to ask your father’s permission,’ he admitted. ‘Do you think he’ll mind awfully that I’ve rather jumped the gun?’

Sarah shook her head and giggled, but any further words she might have uttered were smothered by his passionate kiss, and the rest of the troubled world seemed to fade away as they became lost in each other’s arms.

They had agreed that Sarah should wear her ring on a slender gold chain around her neck until Philip had had the chance to ask her father’s permission. When Sarah eventually drifted off to sleep, she dreamed about her wedding day. Her dress was of the finest silk with an overlay of the same delicate lace that made up the long veil. Sybil’s diamonds sparkled in her ears and at her throat, and, as her father led her down the imposing aisle of St Andrew’s Cathedral, there, waiting at the altar, was Philip.

But somewhere beneath the rousing organ music was another noise – one that shouldn’t have been there at all – and it seemed to be getting louder.

The image of her special day disintegrated, the sound penetrating the soft cocoon of happiness that enfolded her until that too drifted away. She opened her eyes and frowned into the darkness beyond the gauzy drifts of mosquito netting as she tried to identify what could have woken her.

And then she heard it again. It was unmistakeably the sound of a fast-approaching truck, its headlights flashing between the slats of the bamboo shutters as it followed the meandering, steep track through
the plantation up to the house. ‘What on earth?’ she muttered as she sat up and glanced at the bedside clock. It was barely three-thirty in the morning – certainly not the time for people to come calling unless it was an emergency.

Flinging back the mosquito net, she grabbed her Chinese silk wrapper from the chair, padded barefoot across to the window and quietly unlatched the shutters. She could tell it had been raining, for there was a heavy scent of wet earth and jungle in the air. Although the moon was bright between the skeins of thin cloud, the shadows were dense beneath the tree canopy, and she couldn’t see beneath the broad veranda to where the truck had slithered to a halt. A sudden fear chilled her. Something must be very wrong.

She could barely draw breath as she heard the soft knock on the front door and the hushed voice of the senior houseboy turning sharp as he conversed with this unexpected visitor. Edging away from the window, Sarah crept to the door. Opening it a crack, she listened to the scurrying bare feet of the houseboy and his timid knock on Jock’s bedroom door. ‘So sorry wake you,
Tuan
,’ he said in a hoarse whisper before he closed the door.

Sarah couldn’t make out what the boy was saying from her listening post, but she heard her mother’s sleepy voice asking what was happening, and her father’s soft command to go back to sleep – but it was the heavy tread of booted feet pacing back and forth in the drawing room that made her mouth dry and her
pulse race, for whoever their caller was, he was clearly on edge.

Sarah dodged out of sight as her father emerged from the next room resplendent in silk dressing gown and leather slippers. ‘This had better be important,’ he growled as he strode down the narrow hall and walked into the drawing room.

‘It is, sir. I assure you.’

Sarah would have recognised Philip’s voice anywhere – but the sense of dark urgency in his tone only served to stoke her fear. Galvanised into action, she quickly dragged on underwear and a cotton frock. Not bothering to brush her hair or find a pair of shoes, she tucked the gold chain and her engagement ring out of sight beneath the collar of her dress, hurried out of her room and headed towards the sound of their muted voices.

Philip was dressed in the makeshift uniform of the local defence volunteers, which consisted of khaki-coloured knee-length shorts and short-sleeved shirt, long socks and boots, and a slouch hat, the brim pinned up on one side with the unit’s insignia. The two men were standing almost head to head as Philip’s low voice urgently relayed the purpose of his visit. Their faces were grim, the tension in the room almost tangible.

‘What is it? What’s going on?’ Sybil appeared at Sarah’s side in her dressing gown, closely followed by the Amah and a wide-eyed Jane.

Both men turned towards them, but it was Jock
who responded to their sense of alarm. ‘This does not concern you,’ he said gruffly. ‘Go back to bed.’

‘I will do no such thing,’ retorted Sybil as she walked further into the room. ‘What is the meaning of this, Philip?’

Jock’s expression was one of exasperation as he realised his wife was determined to stay. ‘Amah, take Jane back to her room and keep her there,’ he ordered with a sigh. Catching sight of the curious servants who’d come to see what had caused such an early disturbance, he shooed them away with orders to bring tea.

As a protesting Jane was led rather forcibly away by a determined Amah, Jock’s gimlet gaze settled on Sarah momentarily and then he shrugged his shoulders. ‘You and your mother had better sit down. Philip’s news is rather disturbing.’

At Sybil’s sharp intake of breath, Jock took her hand to steady her as she sank into a chair.

Trying to gauge the severity of his news from his expression, Sarah could only see a tautness in Philip’s jaw, and a strange light of excitement in his dark eyes that made her feel decidedly uneasy. She perched on the edge of the chair by her mother, unable to quell the dread that lay coldly in the pit of her stomach.

Philip took a deep breath and, after a curt nod from Jock, began to speak. ‘Just over three and a half hours ago, the British India troops patrolling the beaches at Kota Bharu on the north-eastern shore of Malaya spotted three Japanese ships drop anchor just off the
coast. These ships were escorted by a fleet of light cruisers, destroyers, minesweepers and sub chasers. They began to bombard the coastline at about half-past midnight, and immediately launched their landing craft.’

Sarah heard her mother gasp, but her own heartbeat was so rapid, her fear so sharp, she found she couldn’t move to console her as she stared in horror at Philip.

‘The seas were rough and a good many of the enemy landing craft capsized. The beaches were, of course, heavily fortified with landmines, barbed wire and pillboxes, but despite a spirited and heroic defence by the Eighth Infantry Brigade, the Indian Ninth, and the Thirteenth and Seventeenth Battalion Dogra Regiment – and the addition of four howitzers and heavy artillery – they came in overwhelming numbers and managed to land on the beach.’

He took a shallow, unsteady breath. ‘The latest news is that another Japanese landing has taken place in Siam at Singora, but the details are sketchy. At Kota Bharu there is hand-to-hand fighting on the estuaries that lead straight to the Allied airfields. Needless to say, the RAF and the RAAF are giving sterling air support to force the enemy into retreat.’

‘Thank God,’ breathed Sybil. ‘But how did they manage to get through our sea defences and radar posts so easily? Surely someone should have spotted a large fleet of warships offshore?’

Philip cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on his boots. ‘They were seen yesterday,’ he admitted softly, ‘but the
commanding officer of the British Forces in the Far East feared that the Japanese were merely trying to provoke a British reaction, and thus provide an excuse to go to war – so he delayed any operations overnight to see what would happen.’

They sat in stunned silence, unable to voice their whirling thoughts and emotions as the servant poured tea and tried to look as if he wasn’t listening.

‘I’m afraid there’s more bad news,’ said Jock as he put his hand softly on Sybil’s shoulder. ‘An hour after the Japs tried to land in Malaya, their air force made a dawn lightning strike on the American Pacific Fleet which was lying at anchor in Pearl Harbor on the Hawaiian island of Oahu. Ships have been sunk and hundreds killed. There’s little doubt Roosevelt will soon declare war on Japan.’

With a sense that her world was slowly unravelling, Sarah looked to Philip and her father for reassurance, but their grim expressions made fear crawl in cold fingers along her spine.

‘But surely,’ said Sybil, ‘if the Americans finally enter the war then the Pacific will be safe from further Japanese attack?’ Her voice was unsteady as she clung to Jock’s strong arm, her expression full of hope. ‘We’ll be all right, won’t we, Jock?’

‘Our forces are the very best in the world,’ he replied firmly. ‘Allied to the might of America, we’ll soon have these Japs on the run. They don’t have the stomach for real fighting – that was proved during their war with China – so we’ll be quite safe.’

‘Absolutely, sir,’ said Philip. ‘Our new defences in Singapore are so strong that I doubt any of us will get the chance to actually see any real action – more’s the pity.’ He took Sarah’s hand. ‘Your father and I must go to Kuala Lumpur. The local Defence League has sent out a call for every member to attend an emergency meeting. I’ll try to telephone you later today.’

She stood, shocked by how badly she was trembling. ‘But you won’t be going north to fight, or anything, will you, Philip?’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ he said with rather more disappointment than Sarah wanted to hear. ‘I’m only a volunteer, after all, and our chaps upcountry will soon have the blighters back in the sea.’

‘I’ll get dressed and follow on,’ said Jock as he drained his cup of fragrant tea and then strode out of the room.

Philip drew Sarah into his embrace. ‘We may be away for some time,’ he murmured. ‘But don’t worry. I’ll look after Jock.’

‘See that you do,’ said Sybil, her voice unsteady. ‘The silly man’s likely to shoot himself in the foot with all the excitement.’ She blinked away her unshed tears and hurried out of the room.

Philip’s hand was strong and warm as he led Sarah towards the front door, but despite his calm veneer, Sarah could almost feel the excitement building inside him – and that terrified her, for she’d seen it reflected in her father’s eyes – and excitement led to carelessness and even the euphoric belief that they were invincible.

Once outside, he took her swiftly into his arms again and kissed her. ‘Try not to fret, my darling. We British know how to fight, and every man on this peninsula is ready to do his bit to protect all we hold dear.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,’ she admitted, her words muffled by his shirt.

He drew back and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears as he looked down into her eyes. ‘But it won’t ever come to that, Sarah. The Japs are just sabre-rattling and trying to scare us. We aren’t Pearl Harbor – we’re very well prepared.’

This didn’t sound at all reassuring in the circumstances, and she couldn’t help but voice her doubts. ‘But if they’ve got through our radar and reached the beaches, then surely—’

‘They won’t get much further,’ he said flatly.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’

They fell silent as they stood there above the forest canopy, their gazes locked, the words she really wanted to say imprisoned by a dreadful sense that if articulated, they might tempt fate and bring about disaster.

His eyes were very dark as he traced his fingers tenderly over her cheek. ‘I have to go,’ he murmured regretfully. ‘It’s a long drive to KL.’

Sarah nodded, unable to speak through the lump that had lodged in her throat.

Philip seemed to understand, for he cupped her
cheek and softly kissed her lips. ‘I’ll be back tonight to talk to your father, and then we can celebrate, my darling. Please try not to worry.’ Before she could reply, he’d turned to run down the wooden stairs to the clearing where he’d parked his truck.

Sarah stepped out onto the rain-washed veranda and cupped the precious diamond ring in her hand as he climbed behind the wheel. She struggled not to show her fear as she returned his cheerful wave.

The truck engine roared in the pre-dawn stillness, causing birds to fly from their roosts in alarm, and the monkeys to screech. And then he was gone, the headlight beams lost amid the trees, the sound of the engine dwindling to silence.

Sarah was still standing on the veranda when Jock came hurrying out several minutes later with Sybil distractedly following in his wake, her long fair hair drifting over her shoulders and her dressing gown fluttering round her ankles.

She caught a glimpse of her father’s sturdy brown knees between the voluminous shorts and long socks, and the slouch hat was rammed low over his eyes. ‘Look after your mother and sister,’ he said gruffly. ‘I doubt I’ll be back before tonight, so make sure those bills of lading are in order, and see to it that the tappers and coolies don’t take our absence as an excuse to idle about.’

He kissed her forehead, gave her a swift hug and stumped down the wooden steps to the truck parked
beneath the overhanging veranda. With barely a wave, he drove away.

Sarah took her mother’s slender hand as they followed the flash of the headlights through the trees. Once they were gone, they put their arms about each other’s waist and continued to stand there as the predawn chorus of birdsong filled the already heat-laden damp air. It was only four o’clock in the morning, but already it felt as if the day had lasted for ever.

Their private thoughts were interrupted by Jane, who came running out in her nightdress, her face alight with excitement. ‘Are you going to marry Philip? Is that why he came so early to talk to Pops? Can I be a bridesmaid?’ She tossed back her tangle of long fair hair. ‘It’s all terribly romantic, isn’t it – and he’s so handsome. You are lucky, Sarah.’