Текст книги "The Red Pavillion"

Автор книги: Jean Chapman

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blanche walked from the taxi towards the gaol gates. The small crowd were used now to seeing this Englishwoman among their number, but today, in black, with wide-brimmed black hat and veiled face, she created both awe and unease.

Mostly Chinese, with a healthy respect for their dead, they recognised extreme mourning and grief and fell quiet. One eventually offered a small folding seat.

‘Thank you, but no,’ Blanche said quietly. She wished they would go on with their chatter and at least pretend some kind of normality. She knew her presence weighed heavily on them every time they came, but today, straight from Joan and Aubrey’s funeral, it was as if she had cast some ghastly spell on them.

The Wildons had many friends. News of their double murder had spread around the East, bringing appalled and grieving friends and acquaintances from as far away as Java. Blanche had felt completely disoriented as she recognised faces and voices from prewar parties, bridge afternoons, tennis-club tournaments. Many had sought her out before the service and the reunions would begin with greetings and kisses, then the reminiscences: ‘The last time we met, why, it must have been … ’

Blanche felt stilted and unreal, quite unable to contribute anything to the nostalgic crowd. Her mind was on the fate of the daughter she had allowed to go off into enemy-occupied jungle and the loss of her dearest friends. After following the funeral cortege to the English section of the cemetery, she slipped away quietly, mentally apologising to her lost elegant, eloquent friends. She was aware of curious glances from other mourners, but could imagine Joan saying, ‘Go on, darling, we totally understand.’

What she needed was to talk to George Harfield. She needed his adage-ridden reassurance, his strength.

‘Aah!’ the general sigh of relief when the gates were opened was audible. The Chinese glanced at her and hurried inside, anxious to be away from this spectrelike figure.

George was at his allotted table, rising immediately he saw her. ‘I heard about the Wildons,’ he said, catching her hands and lowering her into his visitor’s chair. ‘The bastards! God, it makes me feel so bloody hopeless!’ He held on to her hands. ‘Blanche, are you all right? You look terrible.’

‘Thanks, George.’ She gave his hand a squeeze as she added, ‘That makes me feel much better.’ And to her own chagrin tears began to run down her cheeks. ‘I don’t cry,’ she told him.

‘No, my love, I can see that.’ He paused while she blotted her cheeks and eyes. ‘You’ve come straight from the funeral. Are you alone?’

‘I came in our car with the guard.’

‘Liz?’ he queried.

She did not answer.

‘Liz didn’t go with you?’

She shook her head slowly. He found the way she dropped her eyes at his last question quite out of character. ‘So where is Liz?’ She looked up at him then and he could only think her expression was agonised. He leaned forwards and demanded, ‘Blanche! Tell me what’s happened!’

She hesitated, wondering if this was why she had come – just to unburden herself to someone. She gazed at him silently, pondering the question of his specialness to her.

‘For God’s sake don’t make me feel any more useless than I am here,’ he pressed her to go on. ‘At least I can listen – perhaps even advise.’

‘I’m sorry, George, of course I must tell you ... everything.’

He looked at her sharply. There was more than grief in this woman, more even than the after-effects of a double funeral. She told her story simply, of letting Liz and Lee Guisan go off with the Sakai, then the news of the Wildons brought by the police. ‘It felt like a punishment for being so stupid,’ she said. ‘Allowing her to go off like that.’

‘No, no. I knew about the young guardsman being missing – and I did see him and Liz together once. I thought I interrupted a kiss, now I’m sure.’

The older man and woman exchanged glances almost as if exploring a possibility, or remembering long-lost intimacies with others. Their glances held so long it was as if each was wondering about the other in a new light. ‘You let your heart rule your head, that’s all,’ he added.

‘George, don’t butter me with platitudes,’ she began, then dropped her gaze and added quietly, with affection, ‘Oh, I don’t know, though, I miss your hackneyed phrases – damn you!’

‘I’ve never been damned so nicely before,’ he said. ‘Come on, old lady – ’ He stopped and raised a hand to fend off her swift glance. ‘No! Sorry! Know when I’ve gone too far. No, what I mean is, you would probably have had to lock Liz up to stop her going, and with a Sakai guide I would say they’re ... as safe as anyone in the jungle these days.’

‘There’s one more thing,’ she confessed. ‘This morning we heard distant shooting, a real battle it sounded, and just before I left for Aubrey and Joan’s funeral news came in that one of the tappers had found a dead jungle tribesman.’

‘Not the one the girls went with?’

‘No, the tapper was sure about that. He had seen that Sakai come to the gate for food.’

‘Could have been coming back with a message I suppose. Makes me bloody mad – of all people, they’re the innocents in this campaign. Heng Hou makes a sport of shooting them as if they’re just another kind of jungle game.’ He sighed with deep distaste before going on, ‘I’d have thought Heng Hou would have taken his men south fairly quickly, unless he’s staying around for a definite purpose.’ He pursed his lips. ‘Look! As soon as you leave here, contact Robbo and tell him I said you’ve got to have a couple of Gurkhas at Rinsey. They put the fear of God into the CTs.’ He stopped. ‘Hell! I’d forgotten – he’s gone after Liz.’

He looked across at Blanche Hammond. Not only was he powerless to help, he was now making useless suggestions. ‘I’m in quite a fix, aren’t I?’ she said calmly.

‘I’d give my right arm to be out and able to help – and I don’t say that lightly.’

‘No.’ She accepted his sincerity and knew his mind went momentarily to Bukit Kinta and the mutilation and murder of Rasa.

‘So you’re at Rinsey just with your amah?’

And the guard system you set up. It works very well.’ He thought she seemed curiously unconcerned, as if her own safety meant little to her now.

‘No way should two women be left alone like that, even with guards,’ he insisted. ‘Go to that Inspector Aba and tell him ... ’ He sought for a good reason. ‘Tell him you believe his murder suspect is on the prowl.’

She did not add to George’s concern by telling him she had a feeling Josef was around, that some evenings it was as if she could feel his enmity closing in on her.

George felt he was just floundering in a mass of feeble notions and looking at this woman he was full of admiration – and more. He wondered how she was keeping up at all. When one’s husband and best friends had been murdered by the CTs, to also have one’s daughter roaming around in the jungle ... He sighed and muttered to himself.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said if I could see any way of escaping from this festering hole I would,’ he repeated under his breath.

‘George!’ She gripped his forearm urgently. ‘Don’t ass about, don’t do anything bloody silly. You’re all I’ve got left.’ She shook her arm fiercely. ‘I need you. I need to know ... to know that you at least are safe.’

He looked at her, swallowed hard and put his hand over hers as it rested on her arm. ‘This is a fine time to tell you, but I love you, Blanche Hammond, have done ever since you took those coconut drinks from me on that train.’

She kept still, her eyes lowered, heart pounding. She gave no outward show of emotion as she wondered if this declaration was what she wanted to hear, what she had really hoped for.

‘I’ve spoken when I shouldn’t. I’m sorry. And if you don’t come to visit me anymore, well, perhaps I’ll deserve that – but, my God, it’ll finish me if you don’t come!’

There was anxiety and hurt in his voice at his own suggestion. She looked across at him and shook her head.

‘I’ll never stop coming. Part of the reason I’ve not returned to England is that I could never abandon you to a series of casual visitors at long intervals. No, I would never do that, believe me.’ She lifted her free hand and for a full three seconds laid it alongside his cheek. Something like an electric shock passed through both of them.

‘My God,’ he breathed as, taking her hand from his cheek, she placed it over his hand, ‘I don’t believe this. Could you wait for me, Blanche?’

‘As long as it takes,’ she told him.

‘These youngsters don’t know they’re born,’ he said gruffly.

They seemed from then on to be existing at two levels. They talked nonstop until the end of visiting time came. But it was to both as if at a different, rather higher level their alter egos were silently wondering and staring at each other, quite overwhelmed by the discovery they had made.

Blanche told of her visit to the mine and seeing the girl. ‘She’s knows I’m after her, but how to trap her?’

Both found release from their sufferings and help in the exchange of sympathies and ideas, while these invisible creatures looked on, waiting to be fully realised, however long it took.

‘You’ll get word to me as soon as there’s news of Liz?’ he asked urgently as the moment of parting came. ‘And ask about those Gurkhas!’

‘Keep cheerful, George. I’m sorry I came empty-handed, I’ll make up next time.’

‘As long as there’s going to be a next time, I feel ... I feel as if I could take this place apart with my bare hands.’

‘But you won’t.’

‘No.’ He was suddenly very solemn. ‘I shall just live for the next sight of you.’

*

‘Mem! Mem!’ Anna’s voice was full of concern as she came to meet Blanche.

Blanche threw her black-veiled hat on the hall table and hurried to meet her amah. ‘Is there news?’

‘The man they found this morning, army have been and taken away. He is Dyak tracker. Someone shoot and steal army shirt and shorts.’

‘Not the tracker Sturgess took with him to go after the girls?’ Blanche caught and held her breath in alarm.

‘Mem!’ The one word and Anna’s look of despair confirmed the worst.

She sat down on a chair. ‘So what’s happened?’ She asked about the shooting they had heard that morning. ‘Has the area been searched? Have the police been?’

‘All time you gone. The inspector want see you, but more trouble and he had to leave.’

‘Let’s both have a brandy, shall we?’ Blanche nodded to the glasses and shivered. ‘How is it possible to feel cold in this heat? I’ve been to see George Harfield in prison – after the funeral.’ She patted the chair by her side for Anna to sit down. ‘He thinks there are probably still quite a few terrorists in this area. Makes me wonder if Sturgess has been ambushed.’ She stood up and paced the room. And if he’s lost his tracker, no way is he going to find a Sakai village.’

‘Sakai clever,’ Anna said, sipping her brandy. ‘Lee been living in jungle long time too. They be all right.’

‘Yes. Positive thoughts, that’s what we must have, or we’ll go under.’ She looked at Anna. ‘We must be strong for each other now.’

Just as they were both striving to have positive, strong thoughts, the telephone rang and made them jump.

‘Yes! Hello!’ Blanche said, motioning Anna to stay where she was. ‘Inspector Aba. Hello, I was going to be in touch with you ... ’ Blanche turned towards Anna as she listened, her face becoming ever more grave. She put down the receiver after some time with just the briefest of thanks.

‘The inspector was ringing to say he is planning to bring two guards to Rinsey. He’d hoped tonight, but they’re fully stretched dealing with a workers’ riot near Ipoh and another terrorist killing at Slim River. He also thinks there’re still communists near Rinsey.’ She went to Anna and caught her hand as the amah rose in alarm. ‘We must make plans to defend ourselves as best we can. I shall double up the guards until the police can get here, and you and I will take turns resting during the night, keeping watch over Datuk.’

Anna put her unfinished brandy down. ‘I go clean all guns.’

‘I’ll go and see Chemor. Thank God we’ve got him.’ She silently also thanked God for George, for this new relationship they had moved towards. Even banged up in prison he gave her the will to struggle on.

She did everything she could think of for their safety, moving beds out of the line of windows, making strict rules about lights. They would use only the dimmest of bulbs in the lounge, which had good shutters, and in the rest of the house, they would feel their way around. For all the precautions, she knew there was a last thing she had to do.

While Anna prepared their evening meal, Blanche took her rifle and went to sit by Neville’s grave. There was something she had to tell him. It’s a little like telling the bees, she thought. We used to have a gardener who went to the hives and told the bees all the births and deaths. This news is about both, Neville.

She shuffled her rifle butt in the dust. I’m not sure how much you lot know. Or how long it takes. I mean, are Aubrey and Joan there? There were a lot of reunions at the funeral. Voices from the past, Neville. I thought more about you and Liz, really. So are all your troubles over – or are you just all over?

That’s the trouble, isn’t it? How much should our consciences here be bothered about over there?

So I’ve told the death bit. The birth bit is more difficult, but I shouldn’t like to meet up with you under any false pretences. I mean, if we’re attacked and wiped out tonight ...

You know I was more enamoured of you than in love with you, Neville – all through. I was enamoured of your gaiety, your special capacity for enjoying life – you were a bit like the social grasshopper, and totally unbusinesslike. I suppose I was enamoured too with Pearling the house, the history. But if I married you for Pearling it got its own back – it became the millstone I had to carry around my neck all through the war on my own, with the girls.

About the girls ... If you hadn’t been killed, this new thing would never have happened. It certainly would not have occurred to me, and I’m sure George would never had spoken out. But Liz is all you – well, nearly all, occasionally I hear myself in her words, but the artistic bit – that girl worships you, always will. Wendy’s more like me. She’ll be a good businesswoman. She’s coming out to Rinsey.

God, that gives me pause. We can’t let Wendy come out for another funeral. Blanche broke off the internal monologue to pull her rifle nearer. I must do what I told George Harfield in prison this morning, I must stop assing about.

I find I love the man. She paused, then restated it plainly in her mind. I love George Harfield. He’s everything I might have said I disliked ten years ago; bluff, blunt, earthy? Not sure about that last – more down-to-earth – whatever, the chemistry works between us. So that’s it, really. I’ll be staying at Rinsey. I was a bit surprised you’d left Rinsey and Pearling to me outright, no strings.

You were my springtime love, Neville, and it was a real crush, as that love should be. Perhaps the war ended that feeling. It was a kind of innocence, you know. But now I’ve found a man I love in a way I’ve never loved before – with all my mature heart. A love to sustain me in this bloody awful time. You’re not missing much, my old love.

She sighed and looked up to see Anna standing a little way off, head bowed, hands clasped as if in prayer. The trouble is, Neville, now I’ve admitted to myself that I love him I want him out of that bloody prison even more.

They ate together early that evening, the three of them. Datuk was irrepressible, full of talk about a pet mongoose a boy had brought to school, which had found and killed a snake in the playground. ‘It was poisonous, but it killed it!’ He grabbed his own throat, nearly knocking himself off his chair, demonstrating how the mongoose had lunged at the reptile.

‘Useful to have around, a mongoose,’ Blanche commented as Anna looked about to censor the boy.

‘Wish I’d got one!’

‘Your grandmother and I will think about it,’ She told him, thinking he deserved some reward for bringing a touch of normality into their lives.

‘Wow!’ he said, eyes wide.

‘Thank you,’ Anna corrected.

‘Oh! Thank you, Mrs Hammond. Thank you!’

‘I seem to remember a boy who used to have his mongoose, on a lead around the house, with a proper pen for it at nights. Does that sound a good idea?’

‘Wow!’ He caught his grandmother’s eye. ‘Yes, thank you Mrs Hammond. Wow!’

Anna raised her eyes and sent him off to do his homework.

‘I’ll just have a walk round to check on the guards,’ Blanche said when he had gone. ‘Don’t want any slackness tonight. Then early bed, I think, I feel exhausted. Emotionally torn to shreds.’

She had noticed that when she sat near Neville’s grave the guards tactfully moved away. She wanted now to be sure the patrol of the perimeter wire was being properly covered.

Thoughts of Wendy arriving made her determined to be much more assiduous about the defence of the plantation, and with two police guards coming soon it was perhaps just tonight that was the biggest danger time.

Starting at the back of the property she walked slowly around to the side, then to the front gates, where she spoke to Chemor. He reported that two of the men were just having their meal, but every post would be covered before nightfall. She walked on until she came to the spot where it was still possible to see the old path to the Guisans’ bungalow, severed now and made a no-man’s-land by the triple barbed wire. She could visualise the children running up and down, Lee always by Liz’s side. She remembered Neville expressing a wish to see his grandchildren playing there – ‘green freedom’, he had called it. Now she just prayed their daughter was safe – grandchildren seemed a dim and distant prospect.

Moving on, she passed the hut which contained the entrance to their escape route. Near the wire she walked circumspectly, anxious not to be seen by any of the Malay families, who would certainly press her to eat again with them, and it was considered very discourteous to refuse.

The guards at the back acknowledged her from a distance and, seeing her going back towards the area of Mr Hammond’s grave, tactfully gave her space. She stood and watched as the falling sun gathered power and glory until it reached an intensity of brilliance only seen in the tropics. The evening sounds from the jungle were beginning, the crickets always first, then the others would follow.

Her hearing was acute and she found herself listening more intently as there came a different sound from the undergrowth. The wind lifted and let fall the foliage in a soughing sweep, but this was quite a different rhythm. She held her breath. This was the sound of something or someone pushing through the beluka. She looked both ways along the wire. The guards were out of her sight. She was about to move away when a soft voice spoke her name.

‘No, don’t move, Mrs Hammond, I have you covered. Don’t make me shoot. Please stay and talk to me, Mrs Hammond. Listen to what I have to say.’

The voice sent a shiver of ice along her spine, echoed a boy’s voice from ten or fifteen years ago. The same words. ‘Mrs Hammond. Mrs Hammond. Please listen. I did not do it. I am not responsible.’

‘I am all alone, Mrs Hammond.’

She heard him move nearer but still could not see him. She wanted to ask if Neville had been all alone when he shot him. She lifted her rifle to hold it in both hands.

‘Don’t do anything rash, Mrs Hammond. You’ve nothing to fear from me, Mrs Hammond.’

It had grated on her nerves even when he was a child, a deceitful, spiteful child, the way he repeated her name as if it was some special charm against punishment.

‘You say you are alone. Let me see you.’

‘You never did take just my word, did you?’

‘And wasn’t I wise?’

‘Most times.’ He laughed and she saw him emerge from just beyond the cleared jungle and steadily approach the wire. He held his rifle sighted on her, while she held hers loosely in front of herself.

She wanted him nearer.

‘Josef Guisan,’ she said as if she had sought him a long time. ‘So why should I trust you now?’ She repeated the question and waited for the repeated pleas of innocence just the same as when he was a boy. Guilty as hell but prepared to argue that black guilt was white innocence until the last trump.

‘Mrs Hammond, believe me, I mean you no harm – ’

‘You look threatening, Josef, your gun pointing straight at me.’

‘Oh, it’s habit,’ he said and lifted the rifle in one hand, but she could see that his finger was still curled in the trigger. She just had this one chance ...

‘Bad habits die hard, Josef,’ she said as she lifted her rifle a little and compressed the trigger on the upwards swing in one smooth, slick movement, and shot him in the heart, ‘... like rogue dogs.’

The force of the impact knocked him backwards as if struck by a Titan’s hammer blow. For a split second she saw his face registering surprise and fury, then as he fell he all but disappeared back into the undergrowth. He was undoubtedly dead and the smell of fresh blood was in the warm breeze.

The sound of the shot reverberated through the jungle and the hills and for a moment there was peace. She expelled the spent cartridge case while searching her soul for any sense of guilt. She looked up to where the sun emblazed the sky a deep blood red. ‘I feel better for that, Joan darling,’ she breathed, ‘much, much better.’

The silence was shattered now by shouts and men coming running and the sound of a car horn blowing at the main gates.

Men came from their huts, the guards running along the wire. There was a babble of questions and many pointing fingers. Blanche led the way towards the front gate, meeting Inspector Aba, who had rushed from his riot at Ipoh bringing two guards for Rinsey.

‘I’ve just shot Josef Guisan,’ she told him, moving out and around the wire to where the body lay.

She had shot him in cold blood, she knew that. Murder, she supposed. She thought about George in prison. Lovers in prison, one for rape, one for murder. What about that? And what about Liz and Wendy? She watched Inspector Aba as he took over the lead; she doubted he would let the matter go without an inquiry.

They approached the fallen man with caution. But there was absolutely no doubt, the shot had hit the heart with pinpoint accuracy. The stain on the chest looked black now and the inspector ordered a man back for a lamp. Anna came too from the house and stood by Blanche, gripping her hand as the inspector raised the light.

‘Aaah!’ She greeted the sight of Josef’s body with a cry that expressed justice done. By her side a small voice piped, ‘that’s good thing! He hurt my grandmother many times.’ He pushed himself between Anna and Blanche and took both their hands. Looking up at Blanche, he added, ‘You like mongoose, kill bad things.’

Blanche regarded the inspector, whose officiousness seemed to waiver at Datuk’s judgement. He went back to bend over the body. As he moved the rifle the hand was lifted too, and in death the finger was still curled in the trigger guard.

‘It is fortunate thing he did not have time to fire first,’ Inspector Aba concluded.