The Horatio Stubbs Trilogy (79 page)

‘That's right.'

‘You never come back Medan.'

‘Afraid not.'

‘Our little time was so short, Horry.'

Silence. They were playing ruddy ‘
Terang Boelan
' again. Mouthfuls of meat found their way between the lumps in our throats. It was nine-fifteen, or maybe somewhat later.

‘Horry.'

‘What?'

‘Maybe we go back my place. We pretend be husband and little wife one last time.'

‘I don't know, Margey – we've come to the end of the road …'

‘No, no, one last time. I tell you what I do when I see that terrible thing stick up at me.' She began a soft and erotic recital of what I might expect in the circumstances. My spirits sank lower.

Everyone else in the restaurant seemed to be enjoying themselves. A squaddy I knew was dancing with a ravishing
Indonesian woman with her hair coiled in a bun at the back of her sleek head. Was it Che Jah? I felt as if I had wasted my weeks in Medan. Why had I not had an Indonesian woman with her hair coiled in a bun at the back of her sleek head? She would have made no impossible claims on me. I drank down my beer and angrily ordered another.

Almost as soon as we had entered The Haven, the heavens had opened. Such a flood was coming down outside that it looked as if our windows gave on to gigantic aquaria. Flashes of lightning revealed, in frozen gesture, denizens of this submarine world in flight from puddle to puddle. A batch of these denizens landed themselves at the restaurant door, shedding laughter and water everywhere. They were squaddies I knew, among them the prognathous Wallace and ‘Jesus' Price.

As they passed our table, Wallace gave me a simian wink. ‘Cushy for some,' he said.

Price said, ‘Still at it then, Horry? We held a party for you last night but you never turned up.
Crème de menthe
by the gallon, lovely grub!'

‘I tried to make it but I was busy.'

‘I can see that,' Price said, and he and Wallace went into peals of scabrous laughter. ‘We'll be having a few again tonight if you care to look in the billet, Horry. You're not a bad bloke, despite them three stripes.'

‘
Thik-hai
,' I said.

They paused and gave Margey an insulting look of evaluation. As they moved on, shedding water, Wallace began to sing, in a high nasal tone representing Cantonese song,

It was intended as an insult to the Chinese, and to me. I jumped up, red in the face, longing to plant a bunch of fives right in Wallace's mush, but Margey dragged me back into my chair.

‘No make scene. He no good man, singing silly song. You just listen your Margey.'

The Red Fox reinforcement arrived, temptingly warm, and I flung it down my throat. Margey continued with her erotic recital, to which I was able to pay little attention.

Where had my affection for her gone?

I was ashamed. During my time in India, I had found sex and looked for love, pined, moped for it. Now was I so much older, so much eroded by experience, that when I had found love I wanted only sex? These were questions I formulated without attempting to answer. Whilst feeling that I had betrayed Margey, I was myself betrayed by circumstances, by the whole impossible situation.

‘Horry, you no listen your poor Margey. I really want we play that disgusting husband and wife game one more time – I really stick my savage little red hole out at you – because I know you never marry Margey, her heart and her body.'

It had to be said. I felt myself speaking in slow-motion as I formulated the words. ‘Margey, you are a lovely rare girl, but the husband and wife thing is not on. It's not possible for me to stay in Medan. That's the way things are, understand. It's the system. I'm only a bloody soldier. My time's up. As a matter of fact, I nearly got bumped off this afternoon.'

Silence.

She was so fragile. Her bones were so dainty. Her flesh was so smooth and pure. I stared down at her downcast face, which the cataract of time was about to sweep away. Margey would still live, so would I; but we would live far apart.

‘Well, say something, go on.'

‘I no speak.' Her face puckered up as if she had been hit.

‘Bloody cheerful evening this is turning out to be!'

‘Horry, please understand, I very sad and no want cry. What Margey can do when you leave her? You never intend you marry Margey. You just want jig-jig and make joke of poor Margey for her body.'

I put my knife and fork down and tackled a fresh Red Fox. I patted her leg under the table until she withdrew it.

‘Margey, please don't say or believe that, ever. I did, I do love you. You are marvellous and I can't think how I would have been without you – really. But I'm too mixed up … it's not you, it's me, and this place, and what the hell happens to me back in England. What in God's name am I going to bloody well do there? I just can't visualise the future for myself, never mind the two of us. I'm not putting this very well, but I don't want to hurt you and I can't find it in myself to – well, to commit myself. You might hate England – God knows, I think I might.'

‘Is not so worse as this dump, that I know.'

‘Well, it's not a paradise like bloody Tsingtao.'

I dared not look at her. Some squaddies over the far side of the room were getting hilariously drunk, Wallace among them.

‘You no want me in England because I China girl.' She looked up, and anger made her eyes sparkle. ‘Why you not say so for a change? You no understand China girl best girl in world for marriage – better than your sexy French mistress. China girl cook and fuck and be faithful her man. Always smell nice, too.' She lifted her faultless arm so that I could see one faultless armpit, like the inside of a peach when the peach stone is removed. ‘She just more good as Europe girl all ways, and teeth and legs better, too.'

‘I know, Margey, I accept all that.'

She leant forward, speaking into my face; bucket-hurling time was coming round again. ‘Then why we no go Singapore, set up house like we plan? Why you say such thing if you don't mean? Aei-ya, I know why! You meet up that damn sex-cat Miss Katie Chae, you jig-jig with her, so now you really gone bad in the head, I know. How much you pay her, I like to know, what I give you free? That girl run like poison in the artillery of a man, that's what, that's what! '

‘For fuck's sake, Margey, don't start working yourself up into a rage. Leave Katie Chae out of this, will you? I'm going to have a piss. Calm down while I'm gone and order me another beer.'

It was somewhere in the region of a quarter to ten, according
to my watches. Or thereabouts. In Blighty, I'd at least be able to get someone to fix the bloody instruments so that they kept proper time. I had to report back to Boyer before midnight. If only Margey would let me off the hook – that whole affair had been a disaster from the start.

Round between the tables, behind a potted palm, through a rattan door. Another door, solid wood. Standing behind it, gasping, I tried to piss against the filthy wall provided, angry with the world and with myself. One hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I understood nothing. What was I? A puppet of the stars, as Raddle put it. I was tempted to nip out of the back of the restaurant – but I'd left my bush-hat at the table with Margey. Cowardly shit. Rain still belted down outside, like the liquid pouring out of me. Dogs howled.

Army boots sounded on the step outside the jakes. The door was flung violently open, catching me between the shoulder-blades. It slammed me against the tacky wall. Pee flew everywhere.

‘Haaaah!' The intruder marched forward, giving a stretch and a bellow as he went.

‘You clumsy bastard!' I said.

He turned. It was Corporal Steve Kyle. I planted one smack in his ribs, my prick still hanging out. It was a real good blow with my right fist, my right shoulder behind it. ‘One for you, you mutinous turd!'

Kyle was drunk, or half-way. Though he buckled a bit, he hit back. I went for him. Unfortunately, I tripped on some anonymous slimes and fell. While I was down on my hands and knees, he delivered a hell of a kick on my thigh.

‘A parting present, you bleeding
Führer
!' he shouted, and tried to escape, but I grabbed his leg.

‘I'll teach you to get some service in, you cunt!'

‘Fuck off, you're bloody
puggle
!'

I hauled myself up on him and gave him a pasting. He caught me a stray blow on the nose. Something rang like an alarm bell in my head and all my filthy temper exploded. I was beyond anyone's control as I struck out at him, driving my fists and the side of my palms into his arms and body.
If there had been a golf club handy, I would have used it on him.

I feared that foul temper of mine, and still do. For some years, I have managed to suppress it because I know how it takes control: under its spell, I experience no pain, know no fear. It's like intoxication. Kyle escaped from me only when some of his muckers, including Wallace and Price, happened to barge in and haul him away. They had to fight me to do so.

When they were gone, I spent a long while hanging over a tap in the corner of the squalid room, splashing cold water over my face. Sick. Sick as a dog. Dab the blood away. Sick. Hot. Every sodding thing falling apart. Nothing to hold on to. Sick. Fucking life – take it away and bring me something more my kind of thing …

Other people entered the bog. I didn't look up, couldn't face them. Margey's arm came round my waist. She mopped at my face with a tiny handkerchief.

‘Poor Horry, Margey look after you. You so worry, poor man, you drink too much drink.' Her tone became wheedling and coaxing. ‘You come home your little Margey last time. I no mad you, Horry, I very sorry all trouble. Margey understand. This very difficult year for all concerned. Astrologers say it.'

Still feeling reasonably bad-tempered, I looked round. My vision was poor, but I made out the restaurant manager standing by the door. With him was someone I recognised – Katie Chae's brother, Tiger Balm, his spectacles gleaming efficiently. The manager started to address me at length in Malay, but Tiger Balm interrupted and said, in his colourless English, ‘Possibly I can help here. This is the manager of this establishment. He requests you to settle your bill and leave the premises as soon as possible. He says that fighting is sternly forbidden and he threatens to summon the Red Caps if you will not go quietly.'

‘I'll go when I'm ready. I'm not drunk, if that's what he thinks.'

‘Correct, he thinks you are drunk. For the record, I have
the same opinion. I was eating here in a private room with a friend, where the food is marginally better than that served to the troops, when I heard you swearing and fighting. Please leave immediately, as the manager implores. Take Tung Su Chi with you.'

One 25-watt bulb dangled in the centre of the jakes. Its sickly illumination made everyone look ill. I began splashing water over my face and neck. Shit, it was hot.

‘I'll go in a minute. Just leave me alone.'

‘You are sick?'

‘Sick of everything. Just leave me alone. I'll go in a minute.'

Self-pity flooded me. Nobody wanted me. Pushing Margey away, I fumbled in my hip pocket and produced a stack of Jap guilders which I thrust out towards the manager. ‘Here, help yourself. Bloody forged Jap currency, if that's what you live on. Take it.'

The manager understood this gesture and looked highly offended, which pleased me. He began to talk rapidly with Tiger Balm. Margey tried to butt in and was swept aside. Turning to me, Tiger Balm said, ‘Ignoring your comments on the economy, for which the British occupation is responsible, I ask the manager how much he is owed. Now he declares with the pride of his race that if you will leave in peace now, immediately, he makes no charge for you or the lady. You understand? Frankly, between us, he is a little afraid.'

My anger rose again. ‘I told you, I'll go in a minute. I'll go whether he wants my money or not. My fucking nose is still bleeding.'

Margey waved her handbag at Tiger Balm and the manager. ‘Go 'way and leave him, like he ask. Can't you hear? I look after my man. You take care, both you! He strong man, nearly kill that corporal – his friends take him away being carried.'

The ability to focus my eyes returned. I saw that Margey was crying. Her words had no effect on the men. By now,
renewed anger was making me feel better; I was just looking for a bit more trouble.

Trouble arrived. The jakes door opened and in stomped Jackie Tertis, wearing monsoon cape and big boots and looking extremely ugly. He glared at everyone in turn before addressing me.

‘Stubbs? You okay, cocker? A bloke outside told me you were having a spot of bother. Want any help? I'll soon pitch into these
admis
with you. Say the word.'

‘I don't need any help. I was sorting out bloody Kyle, that's all.'

He stood unmoved in all his foxy hue.

‘Kyle, good. Want a lift home? My bike's outside. What are these natives sticking about for – money? Is this your Chinese crumpet you were on about?' He bent his gaze at Margey. ‘Not bad as Chinks go, are you, darling? Flat in the chest, of course.' His hawk gaze swooped to the manager, who had stepped forward. ‘What's your trouble, chum? You want to say something?'

The Malay moved back again, bowing politely. Perhaps he had encountered Tertis before.

Margey was made of different stuff. I saw her go almost rigid with anger.

‘You talking large bully, what you mean I got frat chest?' She spoke in a kind of scream. ‘Could your mother with disease feed you only on pus, not milk? Why, you stinking hairy foreign pig-scum, I know your spotty pizzle fell off in the cradle with
VD
!'

A wooden shovel stood in one dim corner of the bog. Margey seized it and brought the edge of its blade down hard on Tertis's foot. Despite the protection of his boots, he gave a yell of pain.