Oriental Hotel (29 page)

‘I'm not up yet.'

‘I don't mind, if you don't.'

She glanced down at her flimsy silk slip; she couldn't have him come in while she looked like this. ‘ I'll put some clothes on. I won't be a minute.'

Her dress, stained and crumpled, was a disgrace but at least it covered her decently. Kneeling in front of the small flyblown mirror, she noticed how her face had been scorched by the sun, her nose and cheek-bones red and peeling, and when she tried to tug a comb through her hair she found it was thick and sticky with salt.

‘All right, you can come in now,' she called.

The cabin door opened and she wondered why all her anger of the previous evening had evaporated so quickly, overtaken by this breathless eagerness.

Then, as she saw him, she almost laughed aloud. There was something just too funny about the canvas trousers, a size too big and bundled up around the waist by a leather belt, and the faded cotton shirt that must have belonged to a Goliath.

Following her glance he grinned.

‘My uniform's still not dry. I did wonder if I might start a fashion, but I can't see it catching on.'

She said nothing, mastering the smile and trying to resurrect her anger.

His face straightened. ‘I came to tell you the Captain needs his cabin.'

‘Oh, did you!' There was no need to work at summoning up the anger – his attitude could do it for her. ‘Well, I'll vacate it as soon as I can, but I've only just this second woken up.'

‘I'm sorry if you're used to lying in, but on a small ship the Captain's cabin is a very functional quarter.'

‘It's all right, you don't have to go into long explanations. I suppose I was so tired I could have slept the clock round given the chance. It won't happen again.'

One corner of his mouth lifted. ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on.'

‘What d'you mean?'

‘You blow up so quickly.'

‘
I
blow up! I like that!'

His mouth quirked again. ‘Yes, actually so do I. It's quite entertaining!'

‘I'm glad you think so!' she fumed, wondering for the first time whether some of his infuriating manner was intentional – to goad her into exhibitions of temper.

‘One piece of good news,' he continued, ‘ which you'll no doubt be pleased to hear, is that we're heading for Penang. That's where this ship was going when it picked up our distress call and the master sees no reason to alter course.'

‘Penang – that's in the right direction for us, isn't it?'

‘Yes. By going straight there we shall cut out Calcutta and Rangoon. It should take several days off our journey – maybe even a week.'

‘Good!' she said, then was aware of a sudden sinking sensation as if she had found herself stumbling very close to the edge of a precipice.

What in heaven's name is the matter with me? she wondered. A few days ago I wanted to get to Hong Kong as speedily as possible. I still do. Only last night I was crying for Gordon and Alex and all things familiar. So why do I suddenly feel as if some kind of punishment was hanging over me?

‘The Eastern and Oriental is the best hotel in Penang,' she heard Brit saying. ‘ I shall stay there until we can move on again. What about you?'

‘Oh yes – it sounds fine,' she said. Then, inexplicably, she felt herself colour. He must not know the turmoil he had started in her all over again – the way she longed to reach out and touch him just to satisfy herself that he was really there, really safe.

‘If the Captain is waiting for his cabin, I ought to get my things together – what there is of them,' she said.

And her back was already turned when she heard the cabin door open and then close after him.

The Eastern and Oriental Hotel, as proud and grand as in colonial days, sprawled graciously in four and a half acres of beautiful gardens in the heart of Penang.

Within the pale stone walls the public rooms reflected calm and gracious living, from the celebrated Golden Corridor with its decorative arches to the deep blue velvet and gold inlaid decor of the cocktail lounge; while outside on the manicured lawns, where palm trees swayed beneath a blue sky, guests sipped cocktails at the white tables, each shaded from the sun by its own pagoda-shaped straw umbrella. Flowers bloomed riotously in the well-kept borders and a frangipani tree dropped fragrant white petals on to the paved terrace.

Standing at the window of her room, Elise marvelled that such peace and gracious living could survive in a world so torn apart with the horror of war. It was unreal, she thought, a mirage in a desert of violence and death. Even the cannon, mounted on its plinth of stone and pointing out towards the blue water, looked reassuringly peaceful now, a monument to wars long over.

Yet not so long ago she had seen at close range not only modern-day weapons but also the devastating effects they could have.

She moved impatiently, looking towards the telephone and willing it to ring. She had placed a call to Hong Kong the moment she had booked into the E & O, before bathing, before eating, before doing anything about finding a change of clothing to replace the salt-stained dress she had worn now for almost a week.

The hotel's Manager, who had welcomed her, had understandably been horrified.

‘We will send out at once for one of the stores to bring you a selection of merchandise. Or perhaps you would prefer to have our own dressmaker come to your room? I can recommend her work with no hesitation. You may choose from all the fabrics at her disposal – Thai silks, Indian cottons, brocades from China …'

‘Later,' Elise said. The first thing I must do is telephone my husband.'

‘As you wish. But I assure you, our dressmaker is most discreet …'

‘Later,' Elise said again.

The need to speak to Gordon was so compelling it took precedence over everything. He might be terribly worried about her and she must set his mind at rest as soon as possible. That would salve her conscience, partly at least, for the way Brit had occupied her mind during these last few days. And besides … When she heard his voice perhaps it would bring her down to earth and put an end to this madness.

In the quiet room the telephone shrilled suddenly and she dived towards it. As she lifted the receiver she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the wall – dishevelled, no make-up, her hair corkscrewed into tiny golden curls by the salt wind, her nose, chin and cheekbones still showing signs of sunburn. And her dress! No wonder the Manager had nearly had a fit! In this grandest of hotels she looked like a peasant – no, a sea urchin!

The telephone was in her hand; her voice trembled with eagerness.

‘Hello?'

Conversation down the line, one operator and then another. And then the dear, familiar voice.

‘Is that you, Elise?'

‘Gordon!'

Tears, constricting her throat, suddenly made it difficult to speak.

‘Elise – are you there?'

‘Yes, I'm here! In Penang of all places. It's all right – I was lucky. I got picked up by a tramp steamer. I wanted you to know …'

‘Why – what happened to you?'

‘You haven't heard?'

‘No! What happened?'

It was incredible that she had been to hell and back and he didn't know. A moment ago she had wanted to talk to him, tell him everything. Now, suddenly, she didn't think she could. How to condense the horror, minimise it, share it? How to begin, even!

‘Oh, Gordon!' The tears were running down her cheeks, burning the sun-scorched skin.

‘Elise – for God's sake!'

And then it was all pouring out, words tumbling one on top of the other. Across the miles, down the crackling, singing telephone lines, she sensed his shock and did her best to alleviate it.

‘I'm all right, honestly, but I lost everything – all Mama's things, the presents I was bringing for you and Alex – everything …'

‘It doesn't matter about any of that as long as you're safe. But what are you doing for money?'

‘I've got my handbag and what was in it. But I shall need to buy clothes. And we're staying at the E & O. It's expensive …'

‘Get the best. Of everything! I'll wire you some money. How long will you be there?'

‘I don't know. Until we can get a ship to Singapore. A few days, maybe.'

‘Are you alone?'

She hesitated. Up to now she had managed to hedge about Brit, but the time had come when she was unable to do so any longer.

‘Not entirely. Gerald Brittain is here too.'

‘Gerald Brittain? Who the devil is Gerald Brittain?'

‘He arranged the passage for me. He's on his way back to Hong Kong as well.'

‘You haven't mentioned him before.'

‘No. I … I didn't think it was really important.'
Coward
, she thought. Why not tell him the truth – that you thought that when he discovered Brit was one of the Brittains of Cormorant he would be less than pleased …

‘Well, I don't know about that.' She heard the indignation begin in Gordon's voice and her heart sank.

‘I would never have made it this far without him, Gordon.'

‘No. And when do you think you'll get to Singapore?'

‘I'm not sure. However long it takes after we leave here, I suppose.'

‘Hmm. About three days. But you don't know yet when you're leaving?'

‘No.'

‘Look – if I can get to Singapore to meet you, I will. I'll see what I can fix up. You've been coping with all this on your own for quite long enough.'

‘But what about Alex?'

‘He'll be all right with Su Ming.'

‘But supposing …' She broke off, letting the rest of the sentence hang in the air. Supposing the Japs were to come …

‘You worry too much, Elise,' he said smoothly. ‘Nothing's happening here.'

Yet
, she added silently. But the thought of Gordon meeting her at Singapore was welcome.

Dear Gordon, always so considerate, so kind and gentle. The best of husbands. She doubted whether any girl would ever be able to say the same about Brit.

‘Time up, caller.' The voice with the Eastern lilt interrupted.

‘Can we have extra time?'

‘Sorry! The lines are heavily booked.'

‘I'll call you back, Elise. And don't worry, darling, you'll soon be home and we shall all be together again.'

Don't go, Gordon, please don't go! she wanted to cry, but instead she heard herself say, ‘I know. Kiss Alex for me?'

‘Yes. I love you.'

‘I love you too.'

Crackles, a loud click in her ear and then the line was dead. She sat back on her heels with the receiver in her hand, feeling utterly alone.

Oh Gordon, why did I leave? I can't bear to be separated from you a moment longer. And Alex … oh, Alex …!

The tears began again, running through her fingers, and she let them come. They would heal the rift, hold her close to Gordon and Alex, drive away the crazy desires.

Afterwards she felt better and never more determined. In front of the mirror she tidied herself as well as she could, combing her hair with her fingers. There would be plenty of warm water and soap in the luxury bathroom that adjoined her bedroom, and in a moment she would ring for a maid to run her a bath. In a moment, too, she would send for the dressmaker and for someone who could bring her a selection of lingerie.

First, she intended to pull herself together – here, now and all on her own. In this uncertain world, her self-reliance was the one thing she could hold on to.

But the face that looked back at her from the mirror, tearstained and stripped bare of make-up, looked so young that it gave her little comfort, and with a sigh she reached for the telephone.

For the remainder of that first day Elise had little time to dwell on her thoughts.

First, as she had planned, there was the luxurious bath in the sweetly perfumed water, soaking the salt out of her pores and washing her tangled hair. Then there was the dressmaker, with the array of fabrics she had been promised; suggesting this and that, measuring, trying patterns – and all with the same deferential manner she would have used if her client had been a duchess instead of a virtual refugee.

Elise, used to wearing haute couture clothes, selected the fabrics and styles she thought could be made up here most successfully – simple, flowing designs in jewel colours, trimmed in the fashion of the East to resemble brilliant butterflies, and several cheong-sams, the well-fitting Chinese dresses made from shining silk brocade.

Then a maid arrived with a selection of lingerie from some of the best shops in Georgetown, pretty Italian shoes and Parisian perfumes. Elise selected some, but was aware as she did so of a hollow feeling. After the brush with death and her days on the tramp steamer, when she had been glad just to be alive, she was very aware that her possessions were only material things. To the disappointment of the maid, used to extravagant guests, she bought far less than the girl had hoped, sending her back with boxes and bags not even opened.

But it was a joy, all the same, to go down to dinner that evening feeling human for the first time in days, dressed in a flowing gown of Thai silk. As the waiters bowed her into the beautiful black and white dining room, she found herself looking around for Brit and being aware of a stab of disappointment on finding he was not there.

I'm just so tired of dining alone, she excused herself – but knew it was not only that. On the one hand she wanted to see him – on the other, she wanted
him
to see
her
looking attractive again after the days of squalor.

Vanity, vanity, she scolded herself as she ordered a simple grill and thanked the head waiter for the long-stemmed rose he brought to her table with a charming bow.

But throughout the meal her eyes kept wandering to the door, and whenever someone else came in she felt a ridiculous sense of let-down.