SQ 04 - The English Concubine (18 page)

20

The house was silent. He had taken dinner alone. His mother was still in her room. He had grown up in this house with his brother Adam who now, unaccountably, wanted to be a priest. What had happened to the simian Rajah Brooke that his mother had brought back as a baby monkey from Sarawak? And what had happened to Tarun, his guardian, who had taught him Malay and with whom he had had so many adventures? He had not given them a moment’s thought. No more than Ah Soon. He felt sorry for that.

He went to the living room and poured a brandy. Malik advanced with a tray.

‘A letter, sir,’ he said and departed silently. The letter was addressed in English in spidery handwriting to A. Manouk.

Alexander threw himself into a chair and opened the letter. It was written in Malay and though he had not spoken it or read it for three years, it was still a familiar language to him.

Come now. Lian waits. Back door. Be invisible
.

There was no signature.

He felt the thrill of adventure. He threw a cloak about his shoulders and disguised his hair under a cloth hat.

He walked through the cool evening from the dark, silent streets of the European town, past the Europa Hotel, which glowed inside its grounds on the corner of High Street, music faintly emanating from its halls. He hugged the shrubbery which formed its fence and across Thomson Bridge to the streets of Chinatown.

The dim coconut oil lamps threw barely a glow but he was glad of the obscurity. On Boat Quay a Chinese opera was taking place, the firebrands throwing a brightness on the river and the assembled crowd. The high-pitched wails fell on his ears and faded as he moved towards Lian’s house.

Once there he went down the pitch-black lane behind the house. The only light came from a bright moon and from some small lamps and the fires of cooks making fried goods for sale in the morning. A line of coolies gathering the night soil passed by with their fragrant cargo.

He knocked quietly at the door and it swung open. The small Malay boy ushered him inside the darkened hall. There was a light somewhere but the house was silent. The boy melted into the darkness, then a candle glowed and he recognised the hunched form of Lian’s maid, Ah Fu.

She beckoned him and he followed her light. She opened a door and there, in the main room of the house, stood Lian. The paraffin lamps glowed brightly and the room was a pool of light after the darkness of the rest of the house.

‘Mother Lilin sent for you. Ah Fu told me. It is incredibly dangerous for you to be here. For you, and especially for me. The Malay boy brought the letter to you and he is young and not interested in things he doesn’t understand. Ah Fu won’t tell. She’s a gossip but she won’t tell this. She knows what will happen. You know that my aunt is mad.’

‘I don’t know she is mad. I know that I have been warned not to come near you. But here I am.’

Lian could not prevent a smile. He was so cocksure, so arrogant. It was appallingly attractive.

‘Listen, Alex. I am guessing Mother Lilin saw you the other day. She wants to meet you, apparently and has sent out this message. But you must understand, she is not well. I would rather not do this but if she is refused anything she becomes distracted.’

‘I see. You are beautiful.’

He spoke the truth. In this half-light, she was all beauty, her hair shining, her skin like silk. Her face fell into an attitude of absolute seriousness and she hardened her voice.

‘Stop it. This woman is visited by demons, you have to understand. If I had known about this I would never have allowed it. Now you must meet her or she will be mad all night. But be careful.’

Lian spoke with such hushed gravity that Alex frowned, suddenly realising that this evening was taking an utterly unexpected turn.

Lian led the way into the sitting room. Lilin rose as Alex entered. He had expected to see a raving lunatic but she was dressed neatly in the fashion of the Straits Chinese in a flowery baju and sarong, her hair tightly pulled back and several diamond pins in her bun. She was quite calm. Her hair, Alex saw, was thinning and the scalp covered in raised scars. He had remembered her as beautiful but the creature before him was like a hideous witch.

Lian sat nervously on the edge of a seat. Alex bowed to Lilin who stared at him, then suddenly smiled. Her teeth were red and decaying.

He addressed her in Hokkien then remembered she spoke Baba Malay. He looked at Lian.

‘Mother Lilin speaks English.’

‘How do you do?’ he said.

‘Sit,’ she said imperiously, pointing to the seat next to Lian with her long painted fingernail.

‘You came back,’ she said staring at him intently.

‘Yes.’ A silence fell. Alex wasn’t sure what to do.

‘You shake hands with Lian.’

This was unexpected. Lian looked at Alex and frowned. He put out his hand to Lian’s and she took it.

Lilin began to laugh. ‘Why you not kiss her? She your …’ Lilin stopped abruptly and put her finger to her lips slyly. ‘Ha, ha.’

Lian dropped Alex’s hand.

Lilin looked at them intently, peering, and a sudden movement of confusion contorted her face. ‘Zhen,’ she said.

Lian made a warning sign to Alex.

‘Ah Rex must leave now, Mother Lilin,’ she said in Baba Malay. Lian indicated to Alex to stand. He rose but before he could make another move, Lilin flew forward. She put her arm round Alex’s neck and pushed her lips against his. Her other hand took him between the legs, rubbing.

‘Ah,’ she said as Alex tried to pull away.

Lian was frozen in horror. Alex’s eyes flew to hers.

Lilin pulled at his clothes, ripping his shirt, then sank down in front of him and put her face to his groin.

Alex leapt back as if burned and Lian let out a scream. Lilin was like a tigress. In one swift movement she tore at her clothing, revealing her breasts. The pins in her hair flew out and she flung herself on Alex, holding him, ripping her nails down his chest. With a supreme effort Alex flung her off. She landed in a heap on the floor, but in a moment was up again. Lian’s hands were in front of her face in shock.

The door flew open and Ah Ma came in and grabbed Lilin’s shoulders. Lent abnormal strength by her dementia, Lilin spat and bit and scratched. Lian screamed and Alex took her hand and dragged her from the room.

‘Get the doctor,’ he said to a half-dressed servant who had appeared in the hall and stared at Alex.

‘The apothecary,’ Lian said, her voice shaking. ‘Quickly.’

The man bolted. From inside the room, the sound of struggle continued. The syce arrived, a big Indian man. Lian nodded at him and he went inside. Gradually the sounds subsided as the apothecary rushed into the house. Lian felt every nerve in her body quivering. Alex was covered in blood, seeping from the scratches to his chest.

‘Come,’ she said and led him to the bathroom. She took a cloth but her hands were shaking so much she could not control them.

Alex put his arms around her. ‘Calm down. There. It’s all right.’

Lian lay against his bloody chest, felt his heart beating as hard as hers. ‘I don’t know why. What …’

‘Just wait. We’ll talk about it in a minute.’

She lay in his arms until she felt some control returning, then made to pull away but he did not release her.

‘It’s all right. I’m all right,’ she said and looked up into his eyes.

He dropped his head to hers and kissed her gently on the lips.

Lian could not help herself. She returned his kiss. Alex pressed more urgently, pulled her more closely into him and she ran her hands around his waist, deepening the kiss.

There was a knock at the door and Alex released her.

‘The apothecary, miss,’ the maid said through the door.

‘I’m coming,’ she said. She looked at Alex then down at herself. ‘What a sight we are. You’re covered in blood.’

‘I’ll clean myself up.’

Lian nodded and left the room.

She put on a long tunic to cover the blood and went to speak to the apothecary. This man was quite used to her aunt’s bouts of insanity.

When he left, she went to her room and cleaned up and changed her clothes. Mother Lilin was sleeping. She took a paste which was good for wounds and went in search of Alex. He was in the sitting room. He had arranged his clothes as best he could.

She sank to her knees and took a little of the paste on her finger. He watched her touching his skin, wincing as she moved over the scratches, but feeling, more intensely, his arousal.

‘This will heal them. You should not have kissed me.’

He took her wrist in his hand, putting her palm on his chest. She did not resist. The darkness of passion filled his brain, but scything through it came concern for her. She was in trouble.

‘I should kiss you a hundred times a day. Until you can hardly breathe.’

Lian flushed and felt her face grow hot.

‘I would marry you. I want you,’ he said.

She pulled her hand from his and moved away from him.

‘I love you, Lian. I won’t lie, I’ve said it before to lots of women.’

She threw him a dark glance.

‘But I’ve never meant it. Don’t you feel it too? We belong together.’

‘Stop saying these things. In the morning my grandmother will know of your visit and what has happened here. She and my father will punish me somehow.’

He took a step forward and pulled her into his arms and put his lips to hers. She sighed and ran her arms around his neck. He picked her up. She was as light as air yet as substantial as the weight of this feeling for her that had suddenly come upon him.

He ran kisses along her neck and she dropped her head back and savoured them, the small trails of heat of his lips on her skin. She felt blood pound in her temples, swept into longing for him.

‘You love me too,’ he said. He put her feet back to the floor. ‘Lian?’

‘How can I love you? What is it, the kind of love that can come so quickly. We met only a few days ago.’

‘We met years ago. I think I’ve loved you for years.’

He gazed into her eyes, staring into them and she could not move, almost mesmerised by his intensity and his will.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Incredible as it seems, I love you.’

He smiled and put her hands to his lips. ‘Then I shall make a plan. I am good at plans. Whatever happens tomorrow, trust me. Somehow we will be together.’

She shook her head. This was mad. She heard the sounds of the servants coming. ‘You have to go.’ She pushed Alex towards the back door.

‘Trust me,’ he said and disappeared into the darkness.

21

The two men sat facing the Resident Councillor. Blackwood, behind his desk, fingered the envelopes in front of him. He had hoped for more syndicates to come forward. The government had advertised all over the town but no more offers had been forthcoming. Of course he could not know who was in the syndicate. Could be half the merchants in the town for all he knew. The leaders and public faces of the syndicates were before him and he avoided any expression.

Hong sat, oozing off the chair, uncomfortable, and glared at Cheng who looked straight ahead. Blackwood looked at them both. Really, it was distasteful this business of dealing with the Chinese on such matters but what other choice was there.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Mr. McNair, would you be witness to the validity of the sealed bids.’

McNair came forward and stood by Blackwood as he opened the first envelope and read the figure there. Neither man reacted but McNair saw Blackwood’s fingers grip the paper a little more intently. And not surprisingly.

The second envelope was opened. McNair nodded to Blackwood and went back to his chair.

Blackwood laid the two sheets of paper on the table and looked up at the two men.

* * *

Zhen watched Cheng pacing, fuming and agitated. ‘How can he make a profit at such a bid. It’s impossible,’ Cheng snarled.

Cheng’s shoes squeaked on the floorboards, the coat of his gown flapping wildly.

‘Twenty-four thousand dollars a month. It’s not possible.’

Zhen shook his head. He too could not work out the sums Hong was assuming.

‘What did you bid?’ he asked an increasingly agitated Cheng. ‘Sit down. You’ll have a heart attack.’

Cheng looked at Zhen beseechingly, as if Zhen could somehow explain the logic of Hong’s actions. ‘Sixteen thousand. That’s generous with the price of raw opium as it stands.’

‘Perhaps Hong has some other means of obtaining raw opium than through the legal channels. If the price of the opium is nothing but the cost of a few pirates, then the profits will be enormous. We assume he is capable of it.’

‘Yes,’ shouted Cheng. ‘Yes, that’s it. The man is so devious and foul that he is capable of anything. We must report him to the governor.’

Zhen stood up and went to Cheng. ‘Sit down, Lao Cheng, and calm down. He hasn’t done anything yet.’

Cheng sat. As his heart began to find a decent rhythm he noted the ‘Lao’ that Zhen had added to his name. It was the mark of friendship and respect.

‘No, no. You’re right.’

Zhen called for tea. Cheng took a cup and felt better.

‘Johor has gone for $2700 a month, did you see? To the Tay syndicate. It was reported in the Straits Times. Hong did not even bid so the Temenggong had no choice and is not well pleased.’

‘No. It’s Hong’s game to smuggle opium to kill Tay’s farm. That’s why he didn’t bother to bid. It is a certainty.’

‘You would do well to contact Tay,’ Zhen said. ‘Offer any help. Warn him of Hong and perhaps supply chintengs for his police force.’

‘Yes, I will do that. It will mend fences with the Temenggong, perhaps.’ Cheng smiled ruefully at Zhen. Silence fell as the two men sipped their tea.

‘What does this mean for me? I have no desire to continue in this post.’

‘I am sorry. This was entirely unexpected. I am sure the Deputy, the others would want you to continue until things straighten out. Until the spirit farm comes up. I have decided to bid on that. Another two months.’

Cheng waited, hoping.

‘I apologise for my tone on the previous occasion. I don’t like to make threats, but I did not know you then. I cannot oblige you but if you step aside Hong has all the power now. He will certainly take over. Do you think?’ Cheng glanced at Zhen.