Without You I Have Nothing (43 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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Standing, slowly she
began to walk to Rajit Singh. Reaching up to kiss his cheek, she whispered,
“Peter you really can be most difficult and perplexing.”

Ignoring her, Rajit
Singh barked a long stream of orders. The soldiers left and the door closed. Only
then, did he snake his arm around Jennifer’s waist and lift her off the floor
to kiss her.

Immediately the
family men folk leapt up but Jennifer, struggling out of Rajit’s arms to regain
her feet began to laugh.

“Mum, Dad, Andrew. May
I introduce Peter O’Brien?”

Slowly, unwinding the
full length of the perfectly constructed shape, Peter allowed the turban to
fall to the floor. Bareheaded, he removed pieces of uniform, casting them aside
where they joined the turban. At last, he removed the brown contact lenses. He
stood in just a dhoti - an Indian loincloth.

Laughing, Peter
hugged Jennifer again.

“I was praying you’d
go along with me for that party as it was special. I needed to take all of you
out of your comfort zone.

“Do you like my
Gurkha friends?  Yes they’re real, and yes, they’re in the British Army, out
here on training exercises.”

The hubbub of
questions stopped when Peter held up his hand.

“Tonight I will
answer all your questions about my family and my history. However, before the
evening progresses any further, I must warn you that I’ll become very emotional
and will do things that are completely out of your experience.

“I know the facts may
alarm you and may even sicken you, but I’ve decided that I’ll go ahead and give
you my total history exactly as it was. I won’t gloss over the facts.

“You’ve asked
questions and I’ll give you the truth about me - my life - my history. Nothing
less will do. Don’t hesitate to ask questions and I’ll answer them truthfully,
although the revelation may turn you against me. It’s a risk I’ll take for the
sake of Jennifer.”

“Now for my history.”

Slowly, Peter walked
to the altar and knelt, knowing that Jennifer’s family could see his heavily
scarred back for the first time. Behind him, he could hear the family’s
reactions as Elizabeth gasped at the sight and Eric sucked in a deep breath. Andrew’s
exclamation, “My God!” showed he also had seen the scars.

Bewildered and
stunned by the sight of Peter’s back, no one dared ask a question.

Peter lit the
customary joss sticks and silently prayed before turning to face the family. His
eyes blazed with an intensity Jennifer had never seen as he moved to the coffee
table and put his hands on the photographs.

“Perhaps you’ve
guessed that these are photos of my mother and father. But first, let me start
at the beginning.”

Fascinated, Jennifer
watched as Peter stood in front of her father. Then he sank to the floor
prostrating himself. He inched forward to place his forehead on her father’s
shoes before repeating the actions on her mother’s sandals.

Standing slowly, he
turned his back on them and lowered his dhoti so they could see his back and
buttocks.

Aghast the family
gasped and, satisfied that they had seen clearly, Peter retied his dhoti.

Again, he prostrated
himself before Jennifer’s parents and then moved into a kneeling position. With
head held high, demanding their attention with his steady gaze, he faced them
proudly.

“Eric and Elizabeth,
I love your daughter deeply. She will never want for material things and she
will never want for my love. In spite of my many failings, I am begging your
permission to marry Jennifer.”

Smiling kindly, Eric rose
to lift Peter to his feet.

“Elizabeth and I
would be most honored to welcome you into our family, but don’t you think you
had better ask Jennifer?  Only she can say yes. However, if it’s any
consolation, Elizabeth and I would be delighted.”

Peter turned to
Jennifer and sinking to his knees, he stared into her eyes as if trying to read
her soul. Hesitantly he took her hands.

“Jennifer, I asked
you down by the creek and the answer was ‘Yes’. I love you with all my heart
and soul. With you, I have everything, without you, I have nothing. I am asking
you again in these formal surroundings. Will you marry me?  Or have you perhaps
changed your mind?”

Jennifer rose and
with her eyes gleaming with love, her face wreathed in a broad smile she pulled
him to his feet, staring into his eyes. “Peter, I said yes then and I will say
yes every day for the rest of my life. Yes I will marry you.”

Peter reached for her
left hand and slipped a ring onto her finger.

“God, now he’s torn
it. You’ll be sorry!  Take it from me. I’ve lived all my life with her.” 
Andrew couldn’t restrain himself but no one took the slightest notice.

“I thought you had
something special to tell us.”  Eric grinned, and pulled Elizabeth onto his lap.
“Well, young man, you’ve certainly given the family a great present -
yourself.”

Fighting her way out
of her husband’s lap Elizabeth swooped on them, kissing them both, then
examined Jennifer’s engagement ring.

“Peter it’s
beautiful.”  She looked down again and shook her head. “It’s absolutely beautiful!”

The two women laughed
and cried while Peter watched, dumbfounded.

“A deep green emerald
surrounded by diamonds in a setting of platinum. Peter it’s magnificent.” 
Elizabeth hugged Peter before leading Jennifer to her father and brother to
display the ring.

Andrew rushed into
the kitchen and returned with a magnum of champagne and flutes.

“Just as well we were
prepared, though why Sis picked you I’ll never know,” declared Andrew,
thrusting a foaming flute of champagne into Peter’s hand before handing full
flutes to the others.

“We’re all
delighted.”  He’d noticed Peter’s shock at the women’s behavior as they clung
to each other, weeping and laughing.

Eric added, “Don’t
worry, those are happy tears. They’re both happy.”  He dragged them apart,
handing Jennifer back to Peter while both took their champagne.

“Jennifer’s almost
yours now, so you had better learn to control her. God knows, I’ve tried for over
twenty-four years now and failed. Perhaps you’ll have better success”

Trying to wipe her
eyes clear of the happy tears, Jennifer only laughed and clung to Peter, until
he bent to kiss the tears away.

When the excitement
had died a little, Peter went behind the altar and returned with the diamond
necklace and earrings Jennifer had worn to the opera. Carefully he placed them
in Jennifer’s hands, while explaining, “These, my own sweet love, are yours. Could
you please wear them on our wedding day?  They are to be handed down through
the family.”

To Elizabeth he
explained, “They were my mother’s and I’m sure she would be ecstatic to see
Jennifer wearing them. Tonight she would know the jewels are being handed to
her future daughter-in-law and will be worn at our wedding.”

Jennifer nodded in
agreement and then as if frightened it would disappear, Jennifer had eyes only
for her ring, which she studied carefully.

When it was quiet and
the family had recovered, they waited for him to continue.

Before he commenced,
he sat Jennifer and her mother in the wide settee with Andrew and Eric in the
chairs to the side. Squatting Asian style in front of them and with his plaque
and pictures behind him he started his story.

“You asked me about
horse riding. Well, my great grandfather rode eight winners at the Gragene
Picnic Races then fell down the back steps of Warialda pub, broke his hip and
died at the age of ninety-two.

“My grandfather had
me on a horse almost every day before I left Australia at the age of five and I
suppose I haven’t forgotten all he taught me.”

As if terrified of
continuing, Peter swung about to kneel before the pictures of his parents and
begged in a small, weak voice, “Forgive me but I must explain to my new family
- I must tell the truth.”

Waiting patiently,
everyone was silent. No one moved or commented as he turned back to them, sat
back on his heels and continued. To them it was strange to see this scarred
young man talking to photos of his parents as if they were there in the room
with him, but they were prepared to go along with his unusual ways now that he
was to be one of them.

This was the strangest
situation any one of them had experienced - the meal, the servants, the
Deepavali Party and now this.

A deep feeling of
uneasiness settled on Eric as he began to rethink his position. ‘I wonder if I
have misjudged this young man. No matter what, I have to protect Jennifer. Is
this story going to reveal good or bad - is this Peter a criminal?  I have to
know what Jennifer is letting herself in for.’  He sat back and waited trying
to keep an open mind.

“My father was posted
by the RAAF to Butterworth, Malaysia and we lived on the Island of Penang. As a
boy of five, I was so proud of my school uniform of white shirt, navy blue
short trousers, white socks and black shoes. The RAAF School emblem on the
shirt pocket made the uniform special. Even the RAAF bus taking me to and from
school was special. Yes I was so proud until one day,” Peter stopped, his eyes
misting.

Turning to Jennifer
he begged, “Must I go on?”

“You know you must. Tonight
you must get rid of the phantoms so they never return. It isn’t fair to my
parents if they don’t know their son-in-law.”

Peter took a deep
breath and tuned to stare fixedly at his mother’s picture. There was a long
pause as he re-gathered his thoughts. Slowly he turned to face once more the
family before speaking.

“Bussed home because
of race riots, I arrived back early one day. Hearing screams and moans coming
from my parent’s bedroom, I rushed past the servants into the bedroom to see a
Chinese man lying between my naked mother’s legs. She was moaning and groaning
and I began to pummel the man’s bare back trying to save her.

“That man threw me
against the wall and stood naked. His ugly, pocked marked face showed his
hatred for me as he snarled in anger, ‘What do you think you’re doing ‘Little
One’ coming between a man and his whore?’  In spite of my mother’s pleading to
let me be, he repeatedly punched me about the body until I cried, begging him
to stop.”

“He called the amah
and cook to come and take me away, but then changed his mind. ‘No, hold him
here and make him watch how a man deals with his slut. Watch, ‘Little One’ and
learn.’  Turning to my mother he snarled, ‘You be good - be very good - or your
spawn will feel my anger’.

“For years I believed
he was my mother’s lover but, eventually, I learnt how he had blackmailed my
Mother by threatening to kill my father and me.”

Oblivious of the
white, horrified looks and the gasps of disbelief as the women clutched each
other’s hands Peter allowed the horror to unfold. He even disregarded the loud
complaints of the men.

“The servants ordered
me to remain quiet about my mother and the ugly Chinese although they knew he
was doing everything to humiliate her. How I hated that man.

“Months after that
first afternoon, we were to go to the Cameron Highlands. My Dad, oblivious of
Mother’s blackmail, said it was to be a second honeymoon and was eager to take
us on this holiday, but on the way, a truck blocked the road. My father got out
to see if he could help clear the road and a burst of gunfire cut him down.

“I saw my first dead
body - that of my father, and lots of blood - his blood - stained my clothes
and washed the sweat from my face that afternoon.”

At this point, a deep
sob rose from Peter’s chest. His head dropped and he was unable to speak for a
few minutes, reliving that awful moment. He could smell the jungle, he could
feel the heat and he could sense that death, even now.

Ignoring the
horrified reactions of the family and their expressions of both shock and
sympathy Peter took a deep breath. With his eyes closed, he continued, his
voice broken by the emotions he was reliving from that dreadful day.

“Mum was screaming
while I just stood there, absolutely panic-stricken, waiting for my father to
rise and give orders, but a smelly rice bag was thrown over my head. Someone
trussed me to a bamboo pole and hoisted me. Off they went, carrying me into the
jungle as if I was a pig going to the local market.

“I called to my
mother, but a punch in the ribs and a hash bark of ‘No’ in Cantonese kept me
quiet. For how long I hung from that pole, I have no idea. I can remember the
heat, the thirst, the hunger and the roar of choppers dipping low overhead as
they searched for us.

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