The Shallow Seas (23 page)

She thought, already, of the pleasure of sleeping in the master's cabin below, the row of mullioned windows flung open, listening to the sea slip under the ship, sliding along the black painted sides of the brig; she thought of watching the sea swallow the sun slowly, until only a tiny spark remained floating on the edge of the world before it was, all at once, extinguished. Her last voyage on this ship had been one of deep misery, but now she felt at rest, ready to enjoy this extraordinary voyage. A part of her truly wished Tigran had come so they could share this together, but another was glad to be alone. Now that he was far away, she felt closer to him than she had ever been before. This ship was part of him.

At dinner, they were very merry. There were five of them: Takouhi, Charlotte, Nathanial, Captain Elliott, and Tigran's eldest son, Nicolaus, who was on the voyage for trade. The ship was laden with cloth, iron goods and teak for Semarang, where Nicolaus would also inspect the sugar mills. Tigran was importing new sugar-refining machinery from England. Then Nicolaus would load sugar, tea, rice, cloth and opium to trade for camphor, ironwood, gunpowder, gold dust and diamonds in Pontianak and Bandjermasin. In this island trade, the
Queen of the South
flew the Dutch flag, permitted to trade by government licence.

Charlotte was glad to spend time with Nicolaus. Tigran had put aboard flagons of fine French
vin gris
for this special voyage, and the captain was delighted to have ladies along. He was not one of those superstitious types who thought women on board were bad luck. So particularly eighteenth-century, he said, and they all laughed.

The talk turned to piracy, with Captain Elliott telling some blood-curdling tales and recounting the remarkable exploits of James Brooke, the man who had been created the white Rajah of Sarawak. Charlotte and Takouhi, who had heard only a little of this story, begged for details.

“Well, ladies, he is quite an adventurer, our Brooke, with a dash of luck thrown in. I have met him once or twice, for his yacht,
Royalist
, has plied these waters. Brooke was in Singapore on his way to explore Borneo. As it happened, he arrived in Kuching in time to be of service to the local rajah, who was the Brunei Sultan's relative. The poor fellow was trying, unsuccessfully, to put down a rebellion. The rajah apparently made Brooke some promises in return for the use of his ship and its guns. When it was over, the rajah, so it's told, demurred, and Brooke merely turned them on the rajah's palace and demanded his due—to be the first white rajah in Sarawak! Such audacity! You may imagine the excitement this news created. Every man who sails half-dreams of his own empire on a far-flung island.”

Seeing the faces of the women, caught up in this story, Nathanial added, “Good old Brooke. I've heard it remarked that Brooke knows as much about business as a cow a clean ship. Now, the man who is doubtless the silliest of spoilt individuals to sail the China Sea is the toast of the East India Company. They shall be able, through him, to plunder the treasures of Borneo and ply the unsuspecting natives with all the useless manufactures of Manchester.”

He raised his glass in mock salute. Captain Elliott did not approve of these sentiments, but his gentlemanly instincts forbade him to challenge his guest in front of the ladies. He changed the subject.

Captain Elliott thought that Mr Manouk was the luckiest man alive. Wealth beyond measure, robust and competent sons, a well-married daughter and vigorous grandsons. And on top of these blessings, an incomparably beautiful young wife and a new, healthy boy. He had seen her when they had brought her from Singapore and was glad she had found happiness. Mr Manouk was an excellent master, and Elliott enjoyed sailing this lovely brig. Tigran had arranged a pension for when he felt ready to retire, as well as a small house in Batavia. Elliott was happy to be able to say flattering things to his master's wife, son and sister. Many Dutch ships employed British-born officers but few employers were as generous as Mr Manouk. Thus, in mutual pleasure, the voyage continued along the coast for four days until they reached the port of Semarang and all too soon had to part.

Nicolaus was fond of Charlotte, who was only a little younger than himself. She in turn saw the young Tigran in him, though he was not so good-looking as his father. He was a good man and had welcomed her into the family from the beginning. Both brothers had done so, but Nicolaus in particular seemed happy for his father.

Charlotte had met Nicolaus's mother, Nyai Kuonam, only once; it had given her a glimpse into a different place, the household of the native woman caught up in the Dutchman's world. She and Takouhi had called on Nyai Kuonam one morning and found her sitting in her sarong on a mat on the floor, her hair hanging down greasily, ringed by women as unkempt as herself, occupied in cleaning vegetables. She was small and wrinkled, with very black teeth, and every now and again spat a stream of blood-red spittle into the cuspidor which stood at her side. She spoke Malay with them but said little. Charlotte could not believe she was younger than Takouhi or that Tigran had ever made love to her, though Takouhi assured her that she had once been very pretty. She was now a wizened old lady. She took little interest in either of her visitors, and they soon departed.

Valentijna, Tigran's daughter, did not care for this marriage of her father's and Nathanial suggested it might have something to do with the instant disappearance of her large inheritance. A new young wife and child were, doubtless, a vast inconvenience to her. Charlotte should have a few more little heirs and heiresses to outrage her. Charlotte had smacked Nathanial lightly when he said this, and laughed.

The thought of children had, however, crossed her mind, for she was late. She frowned and knew exactly when. It could only be the time when Tigran had come unexpectedly to the bathing pavilion and sent the women away. Precautions were impossible, but their imminent separation had visited an urgency upon him, and the look in his eyes was determined. He had thrown off his clothes and come to her side in the river, pulling off her sarong, kissing her mouth and cool dripping breasts, his long hair trailing in the water around her body, like a ravishing river god, then lifting her to the side, to the great pile of cloths and cushions on which she, Takouhi and Alexander lolled in the hot afternoons. He had been forceful and adamant, taken her, protesting, in his arms, and she had succumbed, her resistance turning to excitement at this risqué coupling in the open air.

Now she feared the worst. Charlotte did not want another child. Not now, not ever. She was still terrified of childbirth. Also, unconsciously, she wanted to go to Singapore as slender as
he
remembered her. She shook her head, angry at this half-admission, angry that he could still occupy so easily a part of her mind. She knew Tigran would be delighted at such news, for this time it would be his child, and he had spoken of another child many times. Had he come to her at the pavilion expressly to get her pregnant? He knew her time of the month as well as she did. No, she would not think like that. She would resent him too much. Nothing would dampen her spirits. After all, she had been late before, and a potion from Madi had solved the problem.

While in Semarang, they would stay at a house which Tigran owned in the southern town. Nicolaus would depart after Charlotte and his aunt had left for Surakarta and be back in time for their return in two weeks. Everything had been carefully arranged, and within an hour of their arrival they had received an invitation for dinner at the house of the Resident of Semarang, Martin Eeerens. The wife of the Assistant Resident was Tigran's daughter, Valentijna, and Charlotte was certain she would be present.

The Resident's cutter arrived to take them off the ship and upriver and thence to a carriage to cover the two miles to the house which served as his home. It was a large, columned, double-storey residence set back in a pleasant garden. Much like in Batavia, the European houses lay some way from the port. Charlotte was amused to note that not one of the government residences she had seen so far was as fine as Brieswijk.

The Resident and his wife greeted them effusively. Martin Eerens was a very small man with a very large moustache and a nose which betrayed a fondness for brandy. His wife was his very opposite, at least three times his size, with thinning hair and a long, white nose which supported a pince-nez. Nathanial murmured “Jack Sprat” in Charlotte's ear, and she had to grit her teeth and open her eyes wide to prevent a fit of giggles.

In the drawing room, Valentijna and her husband came up to them. Valentijna embraced her aunt and brother warmly and Charlotte coolly. She was a lovely woman, with beautiful golden skin and Tigran's brown eyes, but Charlotte could not warm to her. There was something haughty and distant in her demeanour. Charlotte had a pleasant relationship with Nicolaus Manouk's half-French wife and through her was well aware that Valentijna thought of Charlotte as a penniless upstart who had brought nothing to the Manouk house and who had somehow bewitched her father. She had said as much to Nathanial. Valentijna's husband was a well-made, very good-looking Dutchman who spoke halting English, and after a perfunctory but very polite greeting he remained silent.

Eerens introduced them to his guest of honour, with many bows. Seated in a corner of the room, dressed in a blue and red serge general's uniform covered in gold braid, stars and crosses, was a portly, red-faced, bald-pated, middle-aged man with a bushy white beard, a smelly meerschaum clasped between his yellow teeth. This was His Serene Highness, the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, a relative, so they were informed, with many condescending looks, of the King of the Netherlands.

The Duke did not rise to greet them, merely looking up and grunting, then downing a full glass of brandy. Nathanial concealed a smile and directed Charlotte's gaze to his feet, which were shod in ancient and worn red velvet slippers, through which a gnarled toenail could be glimpsed.

Charlotte and Nathanial covered their mouths with their hands and Takouhi simply looked scandalised. Other guests emerged—
le tout-Semarang
, Charlotte supposed—and servants brought drinks. Nathanial knew something of this old Duke. He was a distant relative of the King, a military man who, through his profligate stupidity, had lost a fortune and, through his arrogance and ignorance had lost the lives of a regiment of men during the Napoleonic Wars. To get rid of him, he had been sent out to the colonies, given the honorary title of Army Commander, supported by payments from the national treasury. Having been very rich, he was now very mean, and a land where he had never to pay for the labour of his menials suited him very well. He had a house in Weltevreden, where he grew onions and went about under a yellow umbrella carried by a slave.

“Doubtless these visits to the provinces allow him to exercise economies, for I understand he has been in Semarang already for three weeks, living on the hospitality of his hosts, who, I would guess, dare not refuse.”

Nathanial shook his head at this folly but before he could continue, Mevrouw Eerens came up to Charlotte to take her off to the ladies' side of the room. This division of the sexes was frequently relaxed in drawing rooms in Batavia, but Charlotte quickly realised that provincial Java adhered to old principles as if they were biblical law; men and women were separated literally like the sheep and goats would be on a certain day. The men had gathered on the verandah, where the gin and brandy flowed, smoking cigars and talking desultorily amongst themselves; Nathanial occasionally threw glances of desperation in Charlotte's direction.

Whilst Takouhi and Valentijna chatted in one corner, the other ladies, led by Mevrouw Eerens, who knew very well how rich the Manouks were, questioned Charlotte closely on her life in Batavia, admiring her dress and jewels, requesting, without the slightest embarrassment it seemed, the price of every garment and object on her person. It did not take Charlotte long to see that as a rich white European woman she found a very high place in her hostess's regard. Mevrouw Eerens's attitude to Takouhi was one of polite deference to her wealth, but it was plain that Valentijna was placed in a much lower position, not only by her husband's inferior status but by her own
mestizo
bloodline. Charlotte understood that Valentijna's marriage had been a match of genuine affection, and, despite her feelings for this young woman, was somewhat sorry for her. It was not easy to succeed in government service without the approval of the ruling class. Her looks, her status in Batavian society, and the wealth Tigran had bestowed on her had been gifted to her husband, a man of ordinary origins, and these had assured his present position. Charlotte hoped that the Assistant Resident would continue to appreciate these advantages.

The clock struck resoundingly throughout the residence. It was eight o'clock, and, in unison, all the men took out their watches and set them right; their countenances brightened and each sought the eyes of his wife. In a moment, the couples had come together and within two they had left. Just as in the court of Louis XIV,
acte de presence
had been made. Dinner was announced. With a resounding
Kreuzmillionen Himmel Donnerwetter!
the Duke rose, mustering a greater animation than Charlotte had thought him capable of, and, grabbing the arm of his hostess, propelled her towards the dining room.

After dinner, the card table appeared. The Duke packed himself off to bed with a large bottle of brandy and without so much as a by-your-leave as soon as the dinner was over, and, in the absence of a higher power, the Resident reigned. The Assistant Resident rushed to his superior's side as soon as the cards were brought out. Mevrouw Eerens told Charlotte that her husband adored card games, and it was fortunate that his assistant shared the same passion and came over three times a week to spend his evenings in this diverting amusement which she herself could not abide. Nathanial made sure they knew
he
did not play. Nicolaus, despite his reluctance, out of feeling for his brother-in-law, allowed himself to be called on to make a third.