Indonesian Gold (41 page)

****

Chapter Fifteen

November 1995
The Betawi Ball – Jakarta

Towering chandeliers gracing the Hotel Borobudur ballroom
dazzled as a thousand guests stood resplendent in glittering gowns and the finest cloth suits.
Stewart Campbell remained transfixed, glass in hand, staring across the room at Angela Dau,
radiant, even more beautiful than he remembered. When she looked over in his direction and their
eyes touched, Campbell raised a hand to wave but, she suddenly turned away, the American unaware
that her smiling face masked surprise, and uncertainty at his presence. Annoyed, he drained the
remnants of his vodka, effortlessly, determined not to allow Angela's snub to ruin the evening.
After all, the
Betawi Ball
was one of the major events on the Indonesian social calendar,
attended by the country's political and military elite, and the capital's indigenous power
brokers – Campbell, but one of a small number of foreigners to be invited.

Moving amongst the other guests Stewart remained
distracted, surprised at his vulnerability – that he permitted her offhandedness to offend. He
stole another glance, curious as to whom the young men engaged in conversation with Angela might
be, unprepared when the taller of the two stepped into full view, his boyish features
unmistakably those of the President's son. Stewart was impressed – and somewhat curious as to
what interest the Palace might have in attending this function. Then the realization that Angela
could be the powerful youngster's date struck home, Campbell instantly touched by a twinge of
jealousy. Without realizing he had crossed the floor, he was already at her side, the President's
cocky son raising an eyebrow at this effrontery.

‘Selamat malam,'
Stewart bowed his head in token gesture towards Angela, nodded at the younger men and,
without waiting for their response, exclaimed,
‘what a pleasant surprise!'

‘I'm sorry…?'
Angela
feigned bewilderment, the President's son uncertain as how to handle the awkward
moment.

‘It's me, Stewart,'
he
said, embarrassment at her obvious refusal to acknowledge him creeping into his voice.
‘Mister…?'
Angela frowned, her pretence convincing.
‘Stewart Campbell,'
he offered,
lamely, Angela refusing recognition.
‘Stewart…?'

Blood drained from his face and he clenched his jaw,
humiliated. He regained his composure and, with the coldest of stares directed at Angela, he
apologized.
‘I'm very sorry, I was mistaken.'
Then, with a curt nod to the others Campbell
walked away, his ears burning from the snide remark and accompanying laughter that
followed.

****

Campbell
found a quiet corner
where he sat, gathering his thoughts, his ego urging him to consider the possibility that Angela
really had not recognized him, recalling that their last encounter was well over a year before.
Deep in thought, he missed the
gong's
deep, hollow reverberations when the metal drum was
struck several times, calling those in attendance to dinner.

‘Not staying for the rest of the show?'
someone asked, Campbell looking up at a familiar face, rising to his feet to
greet the Director General for Mines.

‘Usually best to let everyone else scramble for their
seats, first,'
he offered, lamely.

‘Where are you sitting?'
the other guest asked.

He remembered that the seating arrangements had been
annotated on guests' invitations, but was now of two minds as to whether he should remain, or
simply disappear. He extracted the envelope from an inside coat pocket, checked where he would be
sitting, then peered across the maze of candle-lit tables set for ten.

‘
Enjoy the evening,'
the Director General patted
him on the arm, leaving him standing alone. Campbell looked again at the intimidating expanse and
decided to leave, his exit blocked by a concerned usher.

‘May I assist, Tuan?'
He smiled weakly and passed his invitation to the man.

‘Please follow me,Tuan, your table is towards the
front.'

The hotel staff had already commenced serving the first
course as he threaded his way through the ballroom, bumping into a number of chairs and near
tripping over numerous handbags that had been placed on the floor. Thunderous applause for the
onstage comedians drowned Campbell's voice as he thanked the usher and took his seat, smiling at
his fellow guests – convinced his eyes were playing tricks when he found Angela Dau sitting
across the table – and without the company of the President's son.

She smiled; then, adding further to Stewart's confusion,
she mouthed the words in English, ‘I'm sorry,' then spent the remainder of the evening ignoring
him again.

****

The following day, Campbell's staff whispered amongst
themselves at the American's unusual behavior. He had arrived midmorning in foul mood, snapping
at staff unnecessarily, sending the junior office girl into tears when he was overly critical of
her coffee-making skills. Even the senior secretary, Laila, treaded carefully, having never seen
this side of their boss before. Campbell locked his door leaving explicit instructions that he
was not to be disturbed, glaring at Laila when she knocked on his door around midday, poked her
head inside, and smiled sheepishly.

‘I think you wish to take this call,'
she said.

‘Damn it, Laila, can't anyone around here do as I
ask?'
His secretary hesitated, suddenly unsure.

‘
She says it's very important.
'

‘She? Who, Laila, who?'
he snapped, face muscles taught.

‘It's a lady from the Ministry of Environment. She insists
on talking to you personally.'

‘Environment?'
his brow
creased.

‘
Yes, from the Office of the State Ministry of
Environment – her name is Miss Dau.
'

‘Angela?'
his face came
alive.

‘Angela?'
Laila
mimicked.

‘Angela Dau, Laila.'
Then, with forced smile,
‘Okay, put her through; let's see what she wants.'
His
secretary raised one eyebrow knowingly and, within minutes, relayed her thoughts to the other
staff
.
The mood in the office immediately becoming upbeat with this revelation, anxious
faces now smiling smugly when Campbell appeared in his doorway, his face apologetic.

‘I'm going out for lunch, Laila. Cancel my appointments
for the afternoon.'
And, with the speed their employer departed
the office, the staff giggled knowingly, gossip having him deeply involved in an affair, with
someone by the name of Angela.

****

‘I miss looking out over the water,'
Angela said, with a touch of sadness.
‘As children, we were never more
than a stone's throw from the river. Our home, the longhouse, was built right to the water's
edge.'

‘How long is it since you returned home?'
Campbell
asked, confident that their
conversation could not be overheard. Angela had insisted that they go somewhere quiet, out of the
way, and he had agreed to meet her at the Horison Hotel's
Pondok Samudra.
At first, their
conversation had been awkward, Campbell's mind drifting as the talk bordered on the banal, his
eyes roaming down to the shoreline where the Java Sea's muddy green waters lapped a man-made
beach, against a backdrop of occasional
Bugis perahus
sailing by.

‘This time, almost six months,'
her voice sounded weary.
‘But, I plan to visit again, soon.'

‘Your family must miss you,'
Campbell
constantly reminded himself not to stare, Angela's
magnificent features such, the task nigh impossible.

‘That would be the entire village, Stewart,'
she pretended to pout, the effect beguiling.

‘Now that's what I call a large family,'
he teased, enjoying the change in mood.
‘Tell me about your
parents.'

Angela appeared to be gathering her thoughts, her eyes
distant, Campbell observing the shift in her demeanor, as if she had suddenly been transported,
elsewhere.

‘My father and I are the family,'
she said, quietly, and he detected an underlying sense of pride in the
statement.
‘I grew up in his shadow.'
She looked up and smiled.
‘He is a wonderful man
and greatly respected by the Dayak people.'

‘And you, obviously, amongst his most dedicated
admirers.'
Campbell
searched his
memory to when he first met Angela, vaguely recalling some conversation with a professor in
Bandung. He could not believe that three years had passed, the strong-willed challenge Angela
made in the auditorium, coming to mind.

‘Yes, of course,'
Angela replied assertively,
‘I try to be like my father in every way. For me, there
could be no greater role model.'

‘And you intend filling his shoes, one day?'

Angela's face became serious.
‘No one will ever be able
to do that, Stewart.'

He waited for her to elaborate but, when nothing further
was forthcoming, he pressed.
‘Your father is the village head?'

‘Yes, Stewart.'
She
seemed amused.
‘I thought you already knew that?'

‘I don't remember you mentioning your father. Come to
think of it, you never told me much,…at all…'
his voice trailed
off, the memory of that fateful Bandung visit revisiting. Then,
‘Why didn't you return my
calls?'

Angela peered deep into his eyes, Stewart suddenly
uncomfortable that she could read his thoughts.
‘Because you let me down.'

‘I came by to apologize,'
he reminded her.

‘There are some things that can't be
changed,'
she said, obliquely.

‘Then why are we here, now?'
he challenged.

Angela attempted a smile.
‘Because of what happened
last night – you deserve an explanation.'

He leaned back in his chair, placing both hands on the
table.
‘Well, I have to admit, I felt extremely foolish.'

‘And angry?'

‘Sure, but that's understandable. My ego was
hurt.'

‘I didn't have much choice, Stewart.'

‘How so?'
he asked,
unconvinced.

‘I'm here to explain. But, first, I want you to
understand how difficult this is for me.'
She reached over and
placed her hand over his, uncertainty written across her face.
‘If only I could be sure that I
can trust you.'

He studied the young, charismatic Dayak closely, the
alluring blend of beauty and intelligence, seductive – a woman who could have her choice of
partner, and one he could easily fall in love with, if this were not already so. Drawn as he was,
Campbell accepted that there was a great deal more he would have to learn about Angela before he
would consider moving down that path – troubled, but not intimidated, by her strong will and
determination.

‘Angela, I do understand that trust is something one
earns. I can't undo what happened in Bandung and, to tell you the truth, I don't understand what
the fuss was all about. Sure, I missed taking you to lunch – but, I did try to retrieve the
situation.Why is it that I get the feeling that I'm missing something here?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, firstly, why would you bother to explain about last
night? Why is how I feel, suddenly so important to you? You've already made it quite clear that
you were not interested.What's happened to change that?'

‘You're not making this any easier for me,'
Angela withdrew her hand.

‘Trust is a two-way street, Angela,'
he said, still prickled by the past evening's events.

Angela leaned back closer to the table.
‘I couldn't
sleep last night,

with worry.And, Stewart, none of this is really about
you.'

He encouraged her to continue.
‘Now you really do have
me intrigued.'
He reached over and offered an upturned palm, Angela hesitating before
accepting the gesture.

‘You will be tempted to tell others,'
she insisted.

‘Okay, you have my word,'
he promised.
‘Whatever you say will remain with me.'