The White Amah (15 page)

Rubiah sighed, sure he’d come to hit her up for another loan. Dedan was still a compulsive gambler and long ago she’d tired of paying his debts.

‘You better come upstairs if we’re going to talk. There’s not enough privacy here,’ she said, looking pointedly at Linda, who was hovering.

‘You’ll have to make it quick, Joe’s taking me to dinner,’ she said when they walked into her office. She sat down at her desk and took a Gitanes from the antique silver-and-tortoiseshell box. ‘Okay, how much do you want this time?’

‘I haven’t come to ask you for money,’ he said, stung. ‘That girl in reception is Mei Li. You remember Mei Li, don’t you?’

Rubiah looked at her cousin in amazement. This was the last thing she had expected. She hadn’t seen Mei Li since she had handed her over as a baby to her parents. Looking back, she couldn’t remember why she’d taken the trouble and put it down to the fact that she was young and foolish.

‘What have you brought her here for?’ she said, flustered.

‘She thinks you’re her mother,’ said Dedan.

‘Well, I’ll soon set her straight on that score.’ Rubiah drew in deeply and exhaled a pungent cloud. ‘What’s she doing in Miri anyway? I suppose she’s got tired of life in the jungle.’ She remembered how she couldn’t wait to escape to the city herself.

‘It’s a long story and I think you better ask her yourself,’ replied Dedan, deciding that he’d get away before he found himself landed with the unwanted waif. He’d learned a lesson from a good teacher. Helping Rubiah to settle into city life had brought him no joy and he wasn’t going make the same mistake twice.Mei Li wasn’t his responsibility. Hell, she wasn’t even a Dayak. He got to his feet and stubbed out the bitter cigarette in the Waterford crystal ashtray.

‘Here.’ Rubiah carelessly tossed some notes to him. One delicate arched eyebrow raised in ironic amusement, she watched him grab the money and stuff it into his cheap plastic wallet, scared she’d regret her uncharacteristic generosity.

‘Thanks,’ he said, the reason for the visit forgotten at the prospects his cousin’s gift had opened up. Hopefully he could win enough to get back on his feet. His spirits were rising at the possibility of winning big time.

‘Tell Mei Li to come up to my office on your way out.’

He nodded absently, his mind already focused on the game ahead.

It would be interesting to see how Mei Li had turned out. Rubiah thought back to the time when she’d cared for the baby and schemed to get rid of her foster mother. How naive she was to think Roger would marry her. But what did I learn? she thought. Nothing. I got involved with another married man. She
closed her eyes and dragged back deeply, her thoughts as bitter as the cigarette smoke in her throat.

The girl and woman looked at each other curiously. Mei Li was tall, too tall. She’s almost a giant, thought Rubiah contemptuously. Still, she was slender and curvaceous and Rubiah knew men would find her alluring in the tight-fitting sarong. And Mei Li’s hair … What Rubiah wouldn’t give for hair like that again. She could remember when her own hair was long enough to sit on. The fair skin Mei Li inherited from her mother had been bronzed by years of exposure to permanent sunshine. She’s no fairer than me and not half as pretty. Rubiah smiled at her own reflection in the wall mirror and patted a stray curl into place in her elaborately arranged hair.

Mei Li thought her mother was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Tiny Rubiah was a perfect pocket Venus. Her large ebony eyes were enormous and fringed with long thick lashes, her full lips were a vivid scarlet, and her complexion was smooth and unblemished. Unlike Lada, her luxurious wavy hair was as dark as a hornbill’s plumage, not streaked all through with strands of grey. She was heavily made-up and the perfection of her face and hair was testament to the expensive French cosmetics and whitening creams she applied lavishly.

‘Sit down,’ Rubiah said, indicating the chair Dedan had vacated.

‘Thank you … Mother,’ answered Mei Li shyly, overwhelmed to discover that her mother was a beauty. What must she think of me? Who would have thought someone so lovely would have a clumsy big oaf of a daughter like me?

Rubiah was about to snap ‘I’m not your mother’ and send
Mei Li on her way when she noticed her necklace. ‘Why are you wearing my mother’s collar? Has something happened to her?’

‘Grandmother gave it to me before she helped me escape. She told me to show it to you so you’d know I’m here with her blessing.’

Rubiah thought back to when she was a small girl and had coveted the spectacular ornament. ‘Take it off. Mother must have wanted me to have it.’

Conditioned to respect her elders, Mei Li took off the necklace and handed it to Rubiah, who immediately placed it round her own neck. The heavy, ornate ebony beads were a far cry from the diamonds and pearls that Joe bought for her, but all the same, it was striking. She would wear it tonight with a simple sarong, barefoot and with her hair loose like a Dayak maiden. Joe would get a kick out of seeing her in traditional dress. She reached up and took the pins out of her elaborate coiffure. They wouldn’t go out. She would have dinner sent to her suite and then she would fuck him senseless. He wouldn’t think of standing her up again after she got through with him. The anxious young girl was forgotten as Rubiah planned and dreamed about the pleasures to come, but the ringing phone broke her reverie.

‘Joe!’ she said in delight, unconcerned that Mei Li was listening. She and Joe always conversed in Cantonese and she was sure Mei Li could only speak their native dialect.

‘I was going to phone you. How about we stay in tonight? … Oh no! Can’t you put them off? I was so looking forward to being alone with you … Tomorrow night … I suppose, but you’ll have to make it up to me … A girl never has too much perfume, but there’s something else you could do if you really want to please me. A young girl from our village has turned up and she’s got
nowhere to go. Could you give her a job as a maid? I promised my mother I’d look out for her … You’ll send a driver over to collect her after he’s taken the children to school? Joe, you won’t let me down tomorrow night, will you?’

After Rubiah replaced the phone she sat motionless, tension evident in her stillness, her face a mask of displeasure.

‘W
HAT DO YOU THINK OF MY PLACE?
Pretty nice, lah? You must think you’ve died and gone to heaven.’

An answer wasn’t necessary; the dumbfounded look on Mei Li’s face expressed her feelings more eloquently than words. Rubiah’s bathroom was the last word in luxury. Glass had been used extensively: glass floor, glass walls, glass sink. A striped cherry-and-cream chaise longue from a legendary Parisian whore’s boudoir lolled next to a sunken tub, also made of expensive opaque glass. Matching fluffy towels were draped over a towel warmer. A large pink conch shell had been drilled and made into a lamp. It stood next to an ancient Satsuma vase filled with fuchsia orchids of banquet hall dimensions.

Mei Li’s eyes roamed over the deluxe accessories: the long shagpile rug in shades of cream and butterscotch, the vanilla-scented candles, the built-in hair dryer, the rainbow of bottles and jars massed on the vanity … Not only were the objects outside her scope of understanding, but so too was the palette of vibrant colour, hues never seen in the natural world she inhabited. She reached out and ran her hand over the glass wall. The surface felt cool, smooth and hard, unlike the texture of anything she’d ever experienced. Trees, plants, and forest animals were the raw materials she recognised; even the sarong she wore had been woven from tree bark. Steel, glass, tile and plastic were as alien to her as a Lamborghini to Ben Hur.

‘I’ll run you a bath,’ said Rubiah, turning on the gold-plated taps. She couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Mei Li’s face when she saw the hot water gush from the faucet.

There was no plumbing or power laid on in the jungle village, where every drop of water for drinking or cooking was drawn from the river. Like Mei Li, it had been Rubiah’s task to carry the heavy water pots along the jungle tracks and up the steep, homemade ladder to the house on stilts. When Rubiah had first arrived in Miri and moved into the staff quarters, a cramped room above the drycleaners, the only water for drinking and washing had been scooped from the toilet cistern. At the time she had thought just having water permanently available was the height of luxury. Now she shuddered at the memory, which is why she’d sweet-talked Joe into paying for a bathroom even Cleopatra would have envied.

‘I wish Grandma could try this,’ Mei Li said, lying back in the scented hot water, bubbles teasing her nose and a blissful expression on her face as she listened to the music from the stereo system. She was able to close her eyes for the first time when she bathed; there was no need to keep a lookout for predators.

‘Your hair could do with a wash.’ Rubiah unhooked the hand-held shower nozzle with the imported massage head and shampooed Mei Li’s hair, like she had when the young girl was an adorable baby.

Forgotten memories of her early days in Miri came flooding back: turning on taps for the first time and gaping at the perpetual torrent of water; switching the lights on and off, like a goddess with the power to turn gloomy night into glorious, fabulous day. As she watched Mei Li soaking in the steaming, scented water, she recalled the vow she’d made when she too
had had her first bath in a tub instead of the muddy river: never again to sleep on a reed mat or pee in the river. She smiled at her reflection in her fog-free mirror. For an ignorant girl from the jungle, she hadn’t done too badly.

Later, Rubiah noticed that Mei Li was shivering and she fetched a warm robe from her bedroom, turned up the thermostat and led her out to the sunny balcony. She knew the girl had only ever known temperatures over thirty degrees. The hot humid weather hadn’t worried Rubiah when she was a girl but now she couldn’t live without air-conditioning. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Mei Li felt the same.

Mei Li lay on the balcony on a sun lounge wrapped in Rubiah’s bathrobe and slowly began to thaw out. Finally her teeth stopped chattering. She had a one-eighty-degree view of the sea. It was dusk and the estuary was bustling with tugboats towing barges filled with logs through the narrow channel, and fishing boats setting off to sea for a night’s fishing, their lights brave beacons in the darkened sky. She shivered. Was Langkup out there, fishing from her grandfather’s boat, or was he stalking her?

‘Still cold? This will warm you up.’ Rubiah poured them both a generous measure of cognac and lit up another Gitanes.

While Mei Li had been experimenting with her expensive French toiletries, Rubiah had been thinking. What she needed was a spy, someone to keep tabs on her lover, someone she could trust. Someone like a daughter.

‘I like listening to the chugging of the engines and the honking of horns and sirens,’ Rubiah said. ‘Sometimes in the still of the night I come out here. It reminds me of home. Tell me, Daughter, do you ever go fishing with your … grandfather?’

‘Yes, right up until his accident.’

‘What accident?’ Rubiah looked at her searchingly.

Mei Li took a deep breath and told Rubiah everything leading up to her flight from the longhouse.

‘… and Grandma doesn’t know how they’re going to manage. It’s getting harder to find food. There aren’t as many animals in the forest and the fish in the rivers have become scarce. Granddad says it’s because they’ve cut down too many trees and clogged up the river floating them to the sawmills downstream. It didn’t matter that much when he could fish out at sea but now he’s sold his boat they have to rely on the river for prawns and fish.’

‘I don’t understand. What’s happened to all the money I’ve sent them over the years?’

‘What are you talking about? You never gave them anything, not a cent,’ Mei Li blurted out, her cheeks blazing. For years, ever since she was old enough to understand, she’d heard her grandparents complaining about her selfish mother and her lack of respect in not providing for her elders. Over time their resentment had increased, particularly as Dedan was always harping on about how rich their daughter was.

‘It’s no good lying to me,’ she told Rubiah. ‘I saw how hurt they were every year when you never came back to see us. Uncle Dedan came every year for
Gawai
and gave his parents a gift. Even though he doesn’t earn much, he always put something aside for his parents. Great-uncle was always boasting about his son’s generosity. How do you think Granddad felt? He lost face in front of his brother every harvest.’ She got to her feet, fists clenched, and glared at her mother.

Rubiah stood up too, with such a look of anger on her face
that Mei Li stepped back. ‘Dedan … that
bastard,’
she shouted. ‘What a fool I was to trust him. What an idiot! I knew he was a compulsive gambler but I never thought he’d gamble away the money I gave him for my parents.’

‘I don’t believe you. Dedan’s not a thief. He’s always been good to us.’

‘I’m telling the truth.’ Rubiah was so angry she was shaking. ‘Every Gawai I gave him two envelopes, one for my parents and another with something for Uncle and Aunt. I knew he was hard up and I didn’t want him to be shamed when he saw the gift I gave my parents. I can’t believe he kept the money meant for my parents and then made out he was a dutiful, generous son. How he must hate me! Well, he won’t get away with it. I’ll make sure he suffers for this. Wait till I tell Joe,’ she said. In her fury she looked as savage as a Dayak warrior queen.