Bitter Sweet Harvest (3 page)

Ming Kong nodded absent-mindedly to Mei Yin’s ideas for the house. He was engrossed in his own plans of how to start anew in England. His mind twirled and turned over the meeting schedules already lined up with his business associates.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave it to you.” He walked out of the room and headed to the stairway. A flurry of footsteps caught his attention. He caught a glimpse of the fast retreating back of An Mei. The bathroom door slammed behind her. Then the hurried, urgent sound of bolts drawn tight.

“Hmm! Must have eaten something bad!” He hesitated and then called out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes”, came a muffled reply.

Ming Kong nodded and made his way down the stairs.

Inside the bathroom, An Mei sat on the side of the bath. She listened intently to her father’s receding footsteps. She had received an urgent message while her mother and father were touring the house. A young boy, no older than eight years old, had rung the doorbell, checked who she was and then pushed a paper message rolled up in a ball into her hands before rushing away. Now, sitting on the bath, she unrolled the dirty piece of paper. “Meet me at noon tomorrow at The Bear,” it said.

She stepped into The Bear. A group of students were huddled in a corner, engaged in serious conversation, their faces animated by the force of their arguments. Almost all the tables in the pub were filled. Young couples, old men, shoppers and office workers — with drinks in hand — were seated at the scatter of wooden tables and trestles that gave it an almost rustic charm. Cigarette smoke filled the air; the odour mingled with the stale smell of fermented hops and malted barley.

An Mei remembered what her friend, Casey, had said when she first brought her, together with Hussein, to the pub. “This is one of the oldest pubs in Oxford. Put your nose to the table and you can smell the years of ingrained alcohol. Have you had beer before?” immediately thrusting a foaming mug at An Mei. “You have to practise.” An Mei smiled recalling her failure to like beer and her lack of tolerance to it. “You are red as a boiled lobster,” Hussein had said rescuing her from her beer drinking ordeal and drinking it all in one gulp.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She started, flustered and on edge.

“It’s me. I am sorry I’m late. Let’s go and sit there over in the corner where we can talk,” Hussein said, ushering her towards a round corner table set at the far side of the fireplace.

“I don’t have much time,” An Mei said. She spoke rapidly, her words spilling out of her. “They are unpacking and arranging the house. I came out to get some food for lunch. Aunt Nelly is with me, but she has gone ahead to the Chinese takeaway at the corner. I hope she’ll be there for some time. She might, because she misses home and speaking Chinese; so she will most likely take the chance to chat, but we need to be quick.”

“Slow down, slow down,” he said. “Take a deep breath.” He waited as she tried to calm herself and to catch her breath.

“I came to tell you that it has been decided,” said Hussein. “I have just a week left before I take the BOAC flight to Kuala Lumpur and then home to Kemun. I have bought an open ticket for you. Take it.”

A lock of hair fell over his eyes and he pushed it back impatiently. His ponytail swished as he turned abruptly to look behind before he urgently drew his chair closer to her. “Please come. I’ll look after you. I will talk to my parents and persuade them. It cannot be as bad as Jenny says. My parents have never refused me anything.”

He took her hand and continued, “This fight between the Chinese and Malays is a temporary madness, stirred-up by unscrupulous politicians. It will not last and things will be as before. There will be peace, prosperity and progress in the country. This is what I have studied so hard for. Remember how well we work together as a team? Remember the march in London against America’s bombing of Vietnam and how much we achieved in sending someone over to Chicago for the first American national women’s liberation conference? We’ll work together again and, together, we’ll re-build trust among the peoples of Malaysia.”

His eyes shone with conviction and An Mei felt herself mesmerised by his words. She knew his charisma, his ability to hold a crowd, the eloquence he’d shown so often in debates, but these words were now for her and her alone.

“Maybe you are right,” she replied. She was confused, as she switched between the horrors her parents and Nelly had described to her and the optimism of Hussein’s words. “I just don’t know how to break it to my father.”

He placed his other hand over her tightly folded ones and turned them palm up. He unfolded the tightly clenched fingers and drew them up to his lips. He kissed the fingers one by one. An Mei could not bear to look up, to let him see her tears or to look into his eyes.

“Come back to Malaysia,” he repeated. “I need you.”

An Mei sat silent. Her mind was muddled with conflicting desires. She wanted to be with Hussein, but she also wanted to please her parents. She withdrew her hands and pressed her fingers to her temple. “Don’t! I want to be with you, but I just do not know how it can be achieved.”

“Would you like me to talk to your parents?”

“No!” Her voice rose in panic. “I’ll speak to you later. I must rush now.” She stood up, toppling the seat behind her. Someone caught it. She turned guiltily. “Aunt Nelly!”

“Is this Hussein?” Nelly asked in Cantonese, her eyes taking note of the slim, tall, dark young man before her and cringing at the sight of his ponytail and flared trousers. Jenny had described him well, she thought, A wry smile pinched the corners of her lips. He was definitely good-looking but Ming Kong would certainly object to the hairstyle.

“I’ve heard so much about you from An Mei,” Hussein said as he held out his hand, hesitant and unsure of his reception.

Nelly grasped it and cautiously returned his smile. An Mei had told her about Hussein. She talked about him through the early hours of the night in the attic room they now shared. An Mei had always confided in her. There was little doubt that An Mei was distraught over the likelihood that she would have to give up her first love, the boyfriend who had become her soul mate over the past two years.

“My aunty,” said An Mei for a lack of any thing to say. “She has looked after me since... since I was a baby.”

“I know. You’ve told me many times,” replied Hussein. “Please help us out,” he appealed to Nelly.

Hussein could not read Nelly’s face. He grabbed his jacket from the chair, rising, “I’ll go now. I will be waiting for your answer.” He leaned over to kiss An Mei and then checked himself. He knew that it would be considered an act of impropriety, an act of disrespect for elders, something just not done in Malaysia, and Nelly had only just come from Malaysia. He groaned in frustration as he made his way out of the pub. He realised that was how their future would be in Malaysia — the constant need to keep their feelings in check and not show them in public. Little had his father realised that in Oxford he would pick up western customs and ways that would not please him.

An Mei’s face was a bright red. When Hussein leaned over, she had panicked and had turned her face away. Now walking home with Nelly, she noted the casual way in which couples linked hands and kissed on the streets. She glanced sidelong at her aunt, noting her surprise and disconcerted expression. She remembered her first kiss. She had exclaimed, “Not here! Someone will see us.”

“And so?” Hussein had asked, his eyes twinkling with amazement. He gestured to a couple sat at a bench some paces away from them. “Look at what they are doing!”

“Universal campus behaviour,” Casey her friend had commented as she showed An Mei around the University. “I know, it is not like this at the University of Malaya, but it does not mean that they are not doing it. Just not in public.”

An Mei slowed her pace to match Nelly’s and took from her the bag of carefully packed silver-foil containers, all marked in Chinese characters:
siew yok, tai har, boh choi,
roast pork, large prawns and spinach. “I’ll have to remember to walk slower,” she said, tucking her other arm around Nelly to give her a hug. “Will you help us?”

“
Aiyah!
” exclaimed Nelly. “
Tai see yew man-man seong
. Such big matters really need careful thinking,” she said, tapping her head, “and I cannot think in the street. Anyway, I must consult with your mother. I’ve not had time to really talk to her.”

Since last night, and especially after seeing the two of them together in the pub, Nelly had wanted to ask An Mei a question that she found difficult to phrase with delicacy. “An Mei,” she said softly, slowing her steps until they were standing by the iron railings that skirted the botanical gardens. “Are you ... have you slept with Hussein?”

An Mei gulped, almost dropping the bag of food. Her knees buckled and she leant against the railings, the cold hard grills digging into her back. Her eyes clouded with fear and shame.

“Chan hai cham-loh!
This is really bad! What would your father say?
Aiyah!
”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No, no I cannot; I must not! He is already a broken man despite the brave front he puts on. His fortunes have gone through so much upheaval that it is wearing him out. No, I can only talk this over with your mother.”

Dusk drew in, casting long murky shadows over the back of the house. Nelly made her way to the rear of the narrow garden, threading carefully around the unfamiliar plants and foliage that spilled over on to the path. A profusion of roses in full bloom, with big, almost cabbage-like petals, perfumed the cool night air. Mei Yin followed. She slid open the bolt and the door swung open, its rusty hinges creaking in protest. They stepped out on to the single track that separated the garden from the playing field beyond. Further on was the path that would lead them to the riverside. They had not been there before. The sky darkened perceptibly, enveloping them in darkness. Mei Yin’s face was cast in doubt.

“Are you sure? I am not particularly keen to go for a walk at this time of the evening.”

“No, I am not sure, but this was the only way I could explain why we are stepping out. We are not really going for a walk, just somewhere to talk. I thought that the playground with the swings and see-saws at the end of the path would be as good a place as any. It is far enough not to be in view of the house. I could not tell Ming Kong that we are going to a child’s playground. I was surprised that he did not ask why we would want to walk along the river at this time of day. I had my answer ready though. I would have told him that we always took a stroll after dinner when we were at home, I mean in Kuala Lumpur, as it is the coolest part of the day. He is so distracted. I doubt that he has even noticed that it is not just getting cooler in the evenings here but really cold.” She drew her heavy cardigan closely around her. “Imagine! Such a cold wind! If this is summer, I am not sure how I can survive the winter,” Nelly complained as she huddled further into her cardigan.

“I like it. I don’t mind the cold. You need to wear warmer clothes. A light cotton
samfoo
is just not warm enough in the evening if you are not used to this weather, even if you wear a cardigan over it,” said Mei Yin. She tugged at Nelly’s sleeve to cover her arms. “Let’s sit on this bench.”

Both women sat down, Mei Yin turned to look at Nelly. The flood of light from a nearby street lamp lit her face. Nelly saw the creases of worry on her forehead and the anxiety in her eyes.

“Should we help An Mei to go back to Malaysia with Hussein?” asked Nelly, mixing English and Cantonese in one breath.

Mei Yin opened her eyes wide with surprise. “Why the change? I thought we had decided that we should persuade her to stay on here with us.”

“She pleaded with me. I was against it at first. Of course, I wanted her to stay here with us. After all, it would be the first time the whole family could be together again. The boys are still at school and university, but during the holidays they can come home. Also, having An Mei here with us would be such a help. We don’t know the country and its ways. Ming Kong will find comfort in her presence. And, I thought that she could be weaned off Hussein. I assumed it to be puppy love. But, I am not sure now. You know,” she stuttered. “I told you...”

“That she has slept with Hussein, you mean?” asked Mei Yin, indicating together with hand gestures to her ears that there were other people around and that they should stick to Cantonese. Three women with a pushchair sauntered passed. One stopped to light up a cigarette. She glanced at the two Chinese ladies, curious, and then turned away to resume her stroll with her friends, talking softly.

“
Aiyah! Chan hai mm gong tak chut
. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. Surely, it means she should, must marry Hussein?”

“Virginity might not be a big issue like it was in our days. I pray that it is not. Remember my wedding day? My mother-in-law insisted that I lie on white sheets and have them delivered to her for inspection after our nuptials so that she could be assured of my virginity. I hope, I am sure, it is not done like that in Europe.” Mei Yin nodded vigorously to emphasise her conviction.

“I suppose we should not let it cloud our decisions,” Nelly conceded. She let out a huge sigh. Then, her voice changed suddenly from one of resignation to one of indignation. She burst out, “I am angry, angry that he has taken advantage of her and I am so cross that she has done the very thing we warned her against; all the time I spent warning her of the danger of being alone here has gone to waste. For once in my life, I feel like giving her a good shake.”

“Nelly, Nelly
fan do suk le
. The rice is cooked, there is little to be done. The thing that we should consider is if Hussein is the right person for her and whether they would be happy together.”

“
Dim chee?
How can we tell? Relationships change. They look very much in love now, but it could be just
sun so-pah!
A new broom sweeps well! How can we tell?” Nelly repeated. “All I know is that although I am cross, my heart bleeds for An Mei. The poor girl is distraught. She is terrified that her father will find out.”