Bitter Sweet Harvest Part 5

"We did not discuss how she left. I did not ask," answered Hussein, desperately looking for a way to avoid his mother's questioning. "I found An Mei because I followed my intuition. I knew she had relatives here in Kuala Lumpur. She told me about them when we were in Oxford."

"Well, if she is safe, we can wash our hands of her and leave her be where she is now," said Faridah, brandis.h.i.+ng her arm as though she was swatting a fly. "We can concentrate on Shalimar and your marriage plans."

"No mother. I would like you to reconsider your views about An Mei."

"What about Shalimar? I thought you liked her. Things were going so well between the two of you before you came back to KL. What has happened?"

"Mother, Shalimar understands that I do not wish to marry her. So can we please discuss An Mei and me?"

"No! No! Stop this nonsense," demanded Faridah. "I have said all that I wish to say on this matter. The answer is no!" She brought her hand in one big downward arc, cras.h.i.+ng it on the table with a loud thud. "We will never accept her. She will destroy all your chances of a political future."

"How could you say that? I believe the opposite will happen. It will show us as moderates. Look at our Prime Minister, Tengku Abdul Rahman. He had a Thai Chinese mother and a Chinese wife to boot. That has not destroyed his career. People love him. He is Bapa Kemerdekaan, Father of Independence."

"Huh! But remember, even he had to relent. As prime minister, he is married only to Sharifah Rodziah. She is the First Lady. By then he was free of his previous Chinese wife and his English one as well, if you remember. In any case, times have changed. He is on his way out," said Faridah.

"Yes, Hussein. He has been heavily criticised recently," his father confirmed.

"What political leader escapes criticism? He is still loved by the people. They trust him because he has a clear view of what is best for the country. People trust him because of his fairness towards the different races and his background," replied Hussein. "We need to be more like him. And like him, I do not think that we should allow ethnic origins to divide us. We are all Malaysians irrespective of race. For that reason I believe my marriage to An Mei would be a source of good - an advantage - rather than a hindrance."

His mother glared at him, her eyes angry and incredulous. "Talk sense into him," she said turning to her husband. "Make him see what is good and what is right. At this moment, he has nothing between his ears except that girl. Bah! Bodoh! Stupid! What good is this western education?"

She stormed out of the room leaving Hussein alone with his father.

Hussein watched his mother's departing figure. He turned to his father, his eyes pleading for understanding. He thought that his father would see his point of view. But Rahim showed no sign of it as he stood up and came close to him.

"Your mother is right, Hussein. Have her as a girlfriend or a mistress if you must, but not as a wife. There is no future in that. Besides, you will not find a more lovely, devoted and devout girl than Shalimar. She is the sort of girl who will enjoy public approval." Seeing the look on Hussein's face, he added. "If this girl An Mei loves you, she will accept you on any condition. Why not put her to the test?"

"You don't understand. She is a good girl from a rich family, a family whose roots in the country go back for generations. Her family would not let her accept such a proposition."

"Yes, I know all about her family." Rahim waved his hand dismissively. "We had her checked out, the minute you came back with her. Her father deserted Malaysia, his own country, for another when times became bad. He showed little trust and belief in his own birthplace. How would people here react when you marry her? How do you think that sort of marriage would improve your chance in politics?"

"But it is not quite how you put it. He only left because of what happened to him; his shops had been ravaged by the mobs. Place yourself in his position. Imagine what you might do if you came home to a burnt out sh.e.l.l. If you put him in such light, then anything can be distorted to look bad. Your sending me abroad to study instead of letting me study in the local universities could also be misconstrued, for example, as a mistrust of the national curricula, the national education system. In fact, one could say that An Mei's father showed more trust in our local education system because he sent her to the University of Malaya before she went to Oxford for her post-graduate degree."

Rahim snorted and then turned his back to Hussein. It would seem it was not for nothing that his son had been sent overseas for education. He certainly spoke and argued better than most of his peers, he thought. Aloud though, he said, in a voice tinged with boredom, "I'm not going to argue with you. I just ask that you think about it. Ask your girl if she would agree to be just a girlfriend, mistress, whatever, without status, or not have you at all." He walked briskly out, holding his hand up palm outward as a gesture to silence any protestations that might come from Hussein. "And, while you are at it, cut off that d.a.m.n ponytail! I would like to see you at prayers in the mosque this evening, minus that tail."

Chapter 12.

Nelly folded the last of her clothes and packed them in the suitcase. Her movements were slow and mechanical. She felt detached and listless. She observed how her hands were able to function even when her mind was not on the task. She wrapped two pairs of shoes and tucked them into the corner of the case. "There," she sighed, her voice resigned, "that's it, all my life possessions once more in two suitcases and, in a couple of days, I'll be back in Kuala Lumpur." She sat down with a thump on the bed, causing it to sag under her weight.

"You don't have to do this," said Mei Yin, stricken with guilt, "you don't have to sacrifice yourself. You can still change your mind."

"Then what about An Mei? She won't have an excuse to remain in KL and that would mean Ming Kong would disinherit her because she will certainly refuse to come back. Besides, there is that crucial other matter of minding the shops and keeping the business going until we are sure we can survive here. I meant all that I said the other day."

"Oh how I wish that we could all go together. It just doesn't seem fair on you." Mei Yin sat down on the bed beside her.

"It is not about fairness. It's about practicality." Nelly stood up again and fussed around her suitcase before closing the lid with a finality that reflected her thoughts. "I have decided. Ming Kong has agreed. An Mei is happy. That is all there is to it."

"I cannot believe even now, how easily you persuaded Ming Kong to let you go," Mei Yin exclaimed.

"I think that deep down he too is worried about cutting off all ties with Malaysia in case it doesn't work out here. And I am sure he feels that giving An Mei responsibilities will snap her out of what he considers to be her infatuation with Hussein."

"Do you think that it might also be him trying to give An Mei a chance - by letting her stay on in KL to work out for herself what she really wants? I still cannot believe that he would fall for your suggestion that An Mei will be useful to you in KL."

"Why not? She speaks excellent English and Malay, which I do not. That is essential for business nowadays." Nelly stared into the distance deep in thought.

"Maybe you are right," she said after a while. "Ming Kong has changed. There might be a grain of truth in what you say. Maybe, it is his way of letting An Mei work it out herself without showing that he has conceded. We will never know unless he chooses to share his thoughts with us."

"Well right at this moment, he is busy with his plans and meetings. We are going this afternoon with Siew Lin to Soho's Chinatown to look at some premises that might be suitable for a restaurant. You are coming as well, are you not?" asked Mei Yin.

"No, you go. This will be for you and Ming Kong to decide. And don't worry about An Mei and me. Things will work out."

Mei Yin stared out of the taxi that they had taken from Paddington station. It had taken them an hour's train journey from Oxford. Her face was pale. In the month they had been in England, she had lost her tan. Thinking they must be tourists, the London cab driver insisted on giving them a running commentary of the sights: Baker Street, the home of Sherlock Holmes; Hyde Park with its renown Speaker's corner; Park Lane and the famous Dorchester Hotel; and then down past the entrance to Buckingham Palace, home of the Queen. From there they went on to Trafalgar Square and Nelson's column. People were milling around the square, some snapping photos, others feeding the seemingly thousands of pigeons gathered there. Suddenly a flock of pigeons rose into the sky, their wings flapping noisily amidst squeals of delight from the children.

Ming Kong looked at Mei Yin's face, examining the lines and planes of her cheekbones and long neck as though he was seeing her anew. His eyes softened and he felt a tremendous rush of love for his wife. She was still beautiful he thought, even after all these years. He reached out and held her hand in his. For the first time since he landed in England almost a month ago, he felt that he was getting somewhere and that something positive was about to happen.

The taxi finally reached the crowded streets of Soho and dropped them off at the entrance to Chinatown. Brightly coloured signs with Chinese calligraphy greeted them. Mei Yin sniffed the air and smiled, her mood brightening up. "Even the air smells different here," she remarked, "so much like Chinatown back in KL, perhaps even brighter and more densely packed. Look at the number of restaurants." She pointed with delight at the roast ducks and meats hanging from hooks in the windows, their red-brown, gleaming skin offering a promise of succulence and crispiness. They made their way along the street until they reached a building on a corner where Siew Lin was stood waiting for them.

"This is it." Siew Lin gestured towards the building. "We could have a good Chinese restaurant here. It has great possibilities because this spot is virtually a junction for three streets so you can get customers from three different directions, all business flowing into this catchment. Good feng shui, water and wind, the balance of the elements bringing harmony and prosperity." She clapped her hand in excitement. "It is difficult to get such a spot. I had a feng shui expert check it out."

Mei Yin looked uncertainly at Ming Kong. "Siew Lin, can I have a word with Ming Kong?"

"Of course! Take your time," replied Siew Lin before disappearing into the premises.

"I'm not sure about this feng shui business. It is, however, in a good location," said Ming Kong. "But do we want to start a restaurant here?" exclaimed both Ming Kong and Mei Yin together as though reading each other's thoughts simultaneously. They broke into laughter.

"When you first broached the subject of restaurants, I had thought of an eatery serving Malaysian food, like a noodle bar, much like the hawker stalls back home where food is cooked in front of the clients, but instead of different stalls under different owners.h.i.+p, it would be under one management. I don't think that Soho needs yet another Chinese restaurant serving the same dishes. Look how many there are, just on this one street. There is too much compet.i.tion here."

"Yes, I agree. By contrast, as far as I can tell, there does not appear to be many, if any, Malaysian restaurants here. Mind you, if we succeed, there will be many in the future. I think we have to go back to the drawing board. We ought to look elsewhere, perhaps consider university towns that have large Malaysian populations. We might still come back to this place because there are lots of Malaysians living in London.

"If we do take this place, I think we can make use of our experience of food stores by using part of the premises to display and sell Malaysian ingredients and pre-packed foods. The remainder could be the eatery. Eat, taste and buy ingredients to cook good Malaysian food at home, might be the sales pitch we could adopt. Few shops in London stock food ingredients from Malaysia. We can get Tek San involved. He can supply them to us," said Ming Kong recalling Tek San's food chains in Malaysia. His face grew animated; he was pleased with Mei Yin and her acuteness in sussing out the situation. "You have learnt a lot from running the cake business at home," he complimented her. "Nelly was right."

Mei Yin blushed with pleasure.

In the house at Oxford, Nelly sat opposite Jenny in the sitting room. Jenny had arrived without warning and Nelly felt awkward and shabby in her presence. Eyeing the beautifully cut suit Jenny was wearing, she tugged at her own samfoo top, recalling Mei Yin's plea for her to give up wearing Chinese clothes and to put on the pair of trousers and s.h.i.+rt blouse she had bought for her instead. "You won't stand out a mile and besides you will be warmer," she had advised.

"I'm sorry you have missed Mei Yin. She is out with Ming Kong. You have only me." She was not at ease with Jenny whom she viewed as more Mei Yin's friend than hers. "She won't be back until late, perhaps very late."

"It's okay. I can speak to you," said Jenny. She made herself comfortable, plumping a cus.h.i.+on and placing it behind her back. Relaxing into the sofa, she draped one arm over the back and crossed her legs. Her black leather pumps glimmered and shone.

Nelly had little to say to Jenny. They had few things in common. She fiddled with the cups of tea she had brought out from the kitchen, making a big show of placing them correctly, adjusting the cup handles this way and that as though it was of utmost importance to do so.

"Are you okay?" asked Jenny sensing her discomfort.

"Yes! Of course."

"Have you heard from An Mei?"

"I am going to see her. I am leaving for KL in a couple of days' time." Nelly did not wish to say any more about An Mei.

"What? You are leaving?"

"Yes, just to take care of bits and pieces at home and to look after An Mei."

"For how long?"

"I don't really know. It depends."

"Oh dear!" said Jenny. "I had hoped that I would see more of you in Oxford, now that I am to spend at least three months here. I so wished to get to know you better."

Nelly's scepticism must have shown because it prompted Jenny to explain herself. "I realise," she said, uncrossing her legs and leaning closer towards Nelly, "that in the past, we have had very little to do with each other because I am closer to Mei Yin, but I would like to change that."

Jenny wanted to make amends. She recalled how she had treated Nelly in the past. She blushed to think of how mean she had been.

"Such a shame," she continued. "In fact, I want to say how sorry I am that I do not know you better, because you have been such a pillar of support for Mei Yin. If there is anything I can do to help out in Kuala Lumpur, please let me know. Even if I am not there physically, I am sure I can help with a few phone calls."

Nelly looked out of the window and her eyes glazed over. She had an idea. "Perhaps," she said slowly, "perhaps you can help me. There is something I have to do for myself."

"Tell me."

"I am trying to trace a family in Singapore. The mother is someone called Mary Woo. She has two children, a boy and a girl. They will be quite old now, in their late 20s."

Chapter 13.

Nelly threw open the window. The hinges groaned and creaked. Just over a month of absence and they had already turned rusty. Hot humid air rushed in filling the room with an all-pervading damp mustiness. She could feel the suns.h.i.+ne on her face, a blistering heat that turned her face instantly red, erasing the pallor of her skin, the result of a month of weak English suns.h.i.+ne. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the warmth that filled her lungs. "Home," she murmured contentedly, "at last, we are home. We are so lucky that Maan sook was unable to sell our house."

She rushed from window to window, throwing shutters open. "Help me An Mei. We have to get some help to give the house a good clean. Look at the dust! And cobwebs! Tomorrow, we will go to our shops and see how things are."

"Aunty you have only just arrived. Why don't you take a few days of rest to get used to things?"

"Rest? I have had enough of rest. I feel renewed vitality; the warmth has woken up my old bones." Nelly smiled, rubbing her eyes. "I admit I am a little sleepy and jet-lagged, but a nap will cure all that. Come, come and talk to me."

Together, they went up the stairs to the bedroom, trailing their fingers on the banisters, penning the thin veneer of dust into s.h.i.+mmering snakes. They threw open the bed covers and, pus.h.i.+ng them aside, crept into the bed. Nelly put her arm around An Mei, patting her shoulder softly in the way she had done ever since she was placed under her care as a tiny girl.

An Mei buried her face deep into the pillow, her back was towards Nelly. "Aunty Nelly," she said, her voice somewhat m.u.f.fled, "thank you for doing this for me. I know you have made a big sacrifice for me. I can't bring myself to return to Oxford. I love Hussein. I want to be here for him."

"Tell me, An Mei. Have his parents agreed to his marrying you?"

"No, his parents are still opposed to it. Hussein said that for the moment, we cannot be married, but we can carry on as we were before. Only this time, we will have to be more discreet..." Her voice trailed off. Nelly could hear the disappointment in her voice and feel her shoulders going limp under her enfolding arm. She held An Mei tighter, as though she hoped to absorb some of her pain. "By that," An Mei continued, her voice filled with hurt, "it means we do not go anywhere important together. See," she continued a.s.suming a false brightness, "just like Aunty Jenny. I'm to be like her, someone who I have ridiculed in the past."

"Are you sure this is just temporary, for the moment, as he puts it? Would there be a chance in the future that he could, would marry you? I cannot put off explaining or telling your father forever. If Hussein cannot marry you, then you should think of your other options. Perhaps, go back to Oxford, find a job and start life again. You are young. At the moment, your father thinks that you are staying on only to help me out and that you have ended your relations.h.i.+p with Hussein. I have given my word that I'll look after you and I am sure he has interpreted that to mean that I will see to it that you no longer see Hussein."

An Mei turned to face Nelly. "I'll stay for a while," she said. "Perhaps, I can find work here. I'll help out in the shops," she added hastily, "but I would like to find my own work. Hussein too wishes to find his own feet. And if he can, I am sure we will be married. He would be able make his own decisions then and be less constrained by his family. At the moment, his wings are clipped. He has no money of his own. He is totally dependent on his parents. They wield such power over him. We need time to work things out."

"Can't he find a job on his own?"

An Mei recalled what Hussein had said to her. "In theory, yes. With his qualifications he should be able to get a good position. In practice, it would be difficult."

Nelly leaned over and planted a kiss on An Mei's wet cheeks before withdrawing her arm. She turned on her side. "Let me sleep and think about it."

A week later, Nelly travelled to Singapore. She boarded the train at the Kuala Lumpur railway station. The station's mixture of neo-Moorish/Mughal architecture brought back sharp memories of her hasty departure from Singapore many years ago. It was here in this very station that she was directed to Penang and it was in Penang that she had met Ming Kong. She sat alone as the train rolled forward, each jolt, each sound it made took her nearer to Singapore. Little had changed on the train, but so much of her life has been transformed. Her thoughts flew from one episode to another, but one scene kept coming back to haunt her. It was the day she abandoned her children to escape the incessant beatings of her former husband, Woo Pik Soo. The longing to hold them in her arms was like a fresh wound. She felt the sudden flood of warmth around her eyes as she recalled the scent of her children when she held them for the last time. She looked out of the window to avoid the curious stares of other pa.s.sengers. Palm oil and rubber plantations rushed by, their orderly alignment seemed to mock the chaos in her life. She looked at her own reflection on the windowpane, seeing the change in herself. When she boarded the train all those years ago, she was slim, youthful with long black hair. Her reflection now showed an old, plump, grey-haired lady.

"I have to find them," she said aloud, waking the dozing pa.s.senger sitting next to her. His lolling head shot up abruptly as he looked with a confused expression at Nelly.

"Were you speaking to me?

"No!" replied Nelly.

"What-lah! Woke me up," he barked, clearly annoyed. "Don't do that again!" With that he dug deeper into his seat and turned his back to her and closed his eyes.

Clutching a piece of paper and her handbag, Nelly got out of the taxi at Bukit Timah, a leafy hilly suburb in Singapore. Huge houses with equally large gardens stood on either side of the road. The chatty taxi driver had told her that the hill, Bukit, had been originally named after the Temak trees that grew in abundance in the area but it had been wrongly p.r.o.nounced during the colonial days as Timah or tin and the name had stuck. "See," he had waved his hand expansively, "no tin but it is still called Tin Hill! No tin but still rich. Only rich people live here." He eyed Nelly as she fished out her purse to pay him, hoping that his acknowledgement of the rich would bring him a big tip.

The taxi had stopped in front of a mansion, the size of which dwarfed even the other substantial surrounding buildings. Nervously, she checked the house number and then made her way to the mansion's gate, a ma.s.sive wrought iron structure, painted green with sharp spear-like tops gilded gold. She buzzed the bell and within minutes the gate opened like a well-oiled machine opening its jaws to claim her. "Please enter," a voice echoed through the intercom. "Our mistress is expecting you."

Nelly mopped impatiently at the perspiration on her forehead and walked briskly forward. s.h.i.+mmers of heat steamed up from the black tarmac. It enveloped her feet making them swell. Her legs grew heavy and she felt faint. She had become unaccustomed to the heat, even in the short time she had been in England. But she persisted, increasing her pace in her haste to reach the mansion. "I cannot run away this time," she told herself. The thought of seeing her children again made her forget her age, her weight and her lack of fitness. She hurried forward, puffing. She saw a servant in uniform coming down the steps of the mansion carrying a parasol.

"Siew Nai, mistress, wait! I have this shade for you. It is too hot to walk so fast." She saw the sweat that was pouring down from Nelly's face and thrust forward a waxed paper parasol painted with yellow chrysanthemums. Bamboo spokes, splayed out from the stem handle, supported the fragile fabric of the shade.

"Let me, let me," the maid said, holding it high above Nelly. "I will hold it. I am Ah Kuk's replacement. She died last year."

Nelly stopped in her track. For a moment, she was speechless. Already the unexpected had happened. She thought she would see Ah Kuk, and was looking forward to the reunion. Ah Kuk had been Mary's maid and had been so good to her. She had helped her look after her children.

"We should not stand under the sun. Mistress Mary is within. She is waiting," coaxed the maid, anxious to go into the house and escape the relentless heat.

They walked up the flight of steps that stretched the entire length of the terrace in front of the mansion to reach the entrance. By this time, Nelly was puffing hard. She paused at the top of the steps; her hand went to her heart to still its wild beating. She took a few deep breaths and then slowly, with great trepidation, she entered the house. Standing in the middle of the expansive hallway was an old lady, her hair almost pure white, her face a cobweb of wrinkles radiating from her eyes and her cheeks. Flanking her on either side were a man and a woman. He was very tall and she diminutive and slight. Nelly checked herself. She looked in bewilderment from one to the other; she pushed her spectacles up the bridge of the nose and looked again.