SQ 04 - The English Concubine Read online

  The tailor rose, mopped his sweating brow, bundled up the cloth and got back into the carriage. The actual sewing would be done at his shop. The second concubine was set the task of beading and embroidering the triangular handkerchief which Lian would wear attached to a gold ring on her hand. It was what all the guests would look at and had to be prepared in the house. It carried enormous prestige. The widow estimated that the second concubine would need to forego a great deal of sleep to finish it on time.

  ‘Now,’ said the widow. ‘The food for the Guests’ Day. It is in five days’ time. It will be held here as will the vowing ceremony. We shall set up the Sam Kai altar in the ancestral room. But you,’ she said indicating the sangkek um, ‘you shall take charge of the bridal chamber in China Street for the final ceremonies will be there. Make sure everything is done properly.’

  The old sangkek um had never in her life had such a rushed wedding and she felt quite light-headed. She was glad to depart a house so suddenly filled with noise and bustle. Usually she took charge but the widow was having none of it on this occasion.

  In particular, the wraith-like figure of the lunatic daughter threw her head into a spin and she jumped whenever this woman walked along the verandah.

  Lian watched from the garden as utterly detached from all this as the sparrow in the bush. She was glad to be out of the house, to be permitted to be out of the house whilst all these women rushed here and there. Her aunt was kept constantly in a state of drugged calm. This was her grandmother’s answer to this particular problem and she recognised her own selfish relief that she no longer had to deal with it.

  She knew all this was going on with Ah Soon, too; the costumes, the noise. On the wedding day he would walk in procession from his home to their new house, dressed in his red jacket with gold dragons, his skull cap with diamonds, mincing along as he was told by his pak chindek, waving his huge fan. He would look ludicrous. She had seen plenty of these processions, with lanterns and a noisy band wailing. She almost smiled, then didn’t.

  A vast array of tradesmen had turned up, to sew, stitch, cut, hammer and decorate and when she saw the hawkers arriving with the trays of food, she left and walked down to the peace of the lake, taking with her the only book she had had in her possession when she and Mother Lilin had been bundled away from town. She had taken it from the lending library of the reading rooms run by the American trader, Wolf, whom everyone said had been a pirate. This library had all sorts of unsuitable American books unvetted by more puritanical eyes and Lian had chosen The Scarlet Letter, the story of Hester who, punished for adultery and pregnancy out of wedlock, must struggle to create a new life of repentance and dignity. She found it entirely fitting and thanked all the gods that no-one here could read a word of anything, least of all English.

  She was so effectively cut off from everything out here she had no idea of what was going on in town and there was no way to find out. Ah Fu had been left at the house in town, judged a malefic and ignorant ally in Lian’s misbehaviour.

  She settled into the pavilion and drew her legs under her chin and opened the book to the fifth chapter.

  Hester Prynne’s term of confinement was now at an end. Her prison-door was thrown open, and she came forth into the sunshine, which, falling on all alike, seemed, to her sick and morbid heart, as if meant for no other purpose than to reveal the scarlet letter on her breast.

  26

  ‘Mrs. Manouk, each day we delay costs you money.’ Captain Elliot opened his hands.

  Charlotte knew it. Each day the Queen stood loaded in the harbour, fully crewed and idle, did cost money. But there was nothing to be done.

  ‘James, there is nothing I can do. Robert has gone to pieces and Amber cannot be consoled.’

  James Elliott nodded. He had grown old before the mast, Charlotte thought, much of it in Tigran’s service. He was perhaps sixty-five years old. He deserved a rest. She had offered to buy him a small house in Batavia but he had refused. He wished to return to Somerset, to his village where he still had brothers and cousins. He would not be sailing again on this ship for the P&O would be carrying him home in ten days. So she had rewarded him handsomely with a generous pension for the rest of his days.

  ‘If I may make a suggestion, ma’am.’

  She turned her gaze onto the man James had recommended and who was the new captain of her ship. He was John Hall, an American from New York. She had been surprised and distrustful. She had known another captain from America and he had tried to kill her. But James said he was a good man, so she believed him.

  ‘Yes, Captain. Any suggestion is welcome.’

  ‘The ship is loaded with guns and powder, opium, iron goods and cloth, commodities I can trade anywhere. If you permit I will go to Pontianak, Benjamarsin and into the Moluccas. I can trade on your account, then come back here in six weeks.’

  James nodded. ‘Good. John knows his business. He can get pepper, gold and diamonds in Banjarmasin, rattans, pearls and bado oil in Makassar. Pontianak has gold too.’

  He can steal my ship, Charlotte thought. But what other choice was there but to trust this man? What choice but to trust any captain who set off onto the vast oceans loaded with goods. She thought for a moment.

  ‘John, if you trade on my account, and show a good profit you shall have a percentage and the crew a bonus.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said and smiled. He knew what she was thinking. ‘You can depend on me, Mrs. Manouk.’

  ‘You are a young man, Captain Hall. Try not to go adventuring.’

  He touched his cap. ‘No, ma’am.’

  Despite herself she smiled. He had a lazy charm and good looks. He was no older than thirty, she guessed, only eight years younger than herself.

  ‘Well, well, we shall settle it then. You will sail as soon as you have the ship’s orders ready and inform the Master Attendant. I will expect you back in six weeks’ time.’

  John touched his cap again and departed.

  ‘Can I trust him, James?’

  ‘Aye, Mrs. Manouk. He seems loose and easy but he has sailed these last three voyages with me and knows the sea and the stars. And he is good with the men and, for an American, speaks Malay well.’

  ‘Very well, then. Will you stay with me these next days?’

  ‘That’s kind of you, but you have trouble in the family. And an old salt like me needs the company of sailoring men. I shall stay at the Sailors’ Home.’

  She watched him depart with his dog, Tasty, at his heels. Old companions.

  * * *

  Amber, head low, walked along the street.

  ‘My dear,’ Charlotte said. ‘Come in.’

  Shilah had been laid to rest yesterday and Charlotte had invited Amber to stay with her, away from the noise of the baby and the dark mood of her father.

  ‘Is Alex here?’

  ‘No, he is in town.’

  Amber went to the living room and threw herself on the sofa and promptly burst into tears. ‘I am so unhappy,’ she wailed.

  ‘I know, of course. Your poor mother …’

  ‘Yes, Mother. Of course. But Alex … he’s so distant.’

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow. The mother so quickly set aside for the young man she desired. Until they learned a little more of life, children were the most ungrateful creatures.

  ‘You are distressed. It is not a good start for either of you. And give him some time also. You need to get to know each other in a quite different way.’

  ‘But how can we? He is never around, never. I have been engaged five days and have barely seen him upwards of an hour or two.’

  ‘I am sorry, Amber. I will speak to him. Do you still wish this marriage?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes, Aunt.’ Amber’s eyes had filled with tears.

  ‘Tonight we shall all dine together. I will order it and tell cook to make the beef Alex likes so much.’

  ‘But when do we depart, Aunt, for Batavia? I so long to be married to Alex.’

  ‘Yes, but
we are delayed here six weeks, Amber. I must stay for Robert and have sent the ship away. When it returns we will depart.’

  Amber shot a look of such horror and disappointment, Charlotte thought she might rise and strike her. ‘No, no. It’s too long. He must marry me here.’

  Charlotte rose. ‘My dear, you are grieving. You need time to recover. And I will not have you married under English law when you plan to live under Dutch.’

  Amber burst into tears again and ran from the room.

  Charlotte went to her room and gazed into the mirror. She touched her belly. Zhen’s child, another, lay within her.

  When Alex returned Charlotte called him to her.

  ‘You must pay attention to Amber,’ she said. ‘She is distressed and misses you.’

  ‘Oh Mother, really. We shall be married soon enough.’

  ‘Alex, don’t be naïve. A young girl likes to be wooed. And we are here for the next six weeks. Pay her a little court.’

  ‘Six weeks?’

  ‘Yes, the Queen has gone to trade. I can’t leave Robert and the baby. I need to talk to Teresa. Robert needs her now. At least I think he does. Anyway …’

  Charlotte looked severely at her son and lifted the paper on the desk. ‘This is the marriage agreement. I have not yet signed it. Woo her.’

  Alex smiled at his mother. ‘You are right, of course.’

  Alex went to his room and bathed. He had spent the morning with Ah Soon whose marriage was to take place the next day. This delay was actually more than he had hoped for. Once they were married, Ah Soon was expected to only stay the night. Such was the peculiarity of the Baba wedding rites. The groom must arrive under cover of darkness, his face covered and leave well before dawn. Alex had no idea why this should be, but he meant, as much as he was able, to profit from it. He wanted to be with Lian. There would be no need for false blood. He felt his excitement at this prospect and rose, agitated. He knocked at Amber’s door. ‘Come out. We shall walk before dinner.’

  Amber flung the door open and rushed into his arms. ‘Oh Alex, I love you so much.’ She pulled him into her room and closed the door.

  ‘Amber, you minx. Don’t you think we should wait?’

  ‘No.’ She pulled his head to hers and rubbed her lips on his, her desperate ardour a sad testimony to her adoration of him.

  He allowed himself to be kissed in this childish way for a moment, then his thoughts flew to the nights he would spend with Lian. He took Amber in his arms and showed her what a kiss really was, making her half swoon. She clung to him, pressing her body against his. It was quite pleasant and he could play this game for a while if it kept his mother off his back.

  27

  From the upstairs window Zhen watched the procession arrive before the main doorway of the house in China Street. He had leased this house for his daughter and her husband because he could not bear the thought of Lian locked up with the Widow Tan and Mad Lilin out in the country. Here she would at least be mistress of her own home in the centre of the town and could entertain her school friends, keep up her English and have a semblance of the life she had been wrenched from.

  Ah Soon was dressed as he himself had been twenty years ago, but the man was so skinny and sallow, he could not help but feel sorry for Lian. He knew she would never love this man, so he wanted to do as much for her as possible. Give her riches and certain freedoms.

  As Ah Soon stepped over the basket in the doorway, the firecrackers started to pop and sent a volley of deafening noise up and down the street. A crowd had gathered to watch.

  Zhen went to the hall of the first floor and looked down. Various dances and rituals took place, then the matchmaker stepped inside the hall and called sangkek um, si kau lai chim pang. The appointed time had come for the bride and groom to meet.

  Lian was led from a side room into the hall, bound in her wedding clothes with a black veil over her face. As Ah Soon lifted the veil most of the assembled party averted their gaze. Zhen did not. She was beautiful.

  The new bride was traditionally supposed to keep her eyes down and not gaze on her new husband but Lian kept her look steady, unsmiling. The couple, flanked by the sangkek um and the pak chindek, walked slowly upstairs to their bedroom. Lian looked neither right nor left and certainly not at him.

  The next part of the ceremony, Zhen knew, involved the candles that must not go out but which had been blown out on his own wedding day by Noan’s sleeve which signified that she would die first. And she had. He did not join the press of guests around the couple.

  Qian had not joined them either and came to his friend. ‘It is a good day.’

  Zhen said nothing.

  ‘Cheng has offered me a part in the syndicate. He will advance me credit and I will pay back from the profits. It is a good start.’’

  ‘Yes, make the most of it.’

  ‘I know you are behind this. Thank you. As part of your family I can get credit from the English bankers and start to rebuild the business.’

  Zhen looked at Qian a moment. ‘Don’t think of it. Stick to what you know. The ah ku houses and this syndicate for which you have to do nothing but collect.’

  Qian pulled a face. The ah ku houses held no prestige. To be part of the syndicate, to deal with the Europeans carried all the cachet. And his catamite – he deserved more, more jewels, more clothes, for Qian had never loved a young boy so much as he did this one.

  The guests buzzed noisily out of the room. It was time for the groom to leave and for the bride to rest. All the guest went downstairs, chattering, to admire all the gifts and ang pow displayed on the hall tables. Zhen had presented a tray of jewellery for Lian.

  Qian left, for the next part of the ritual involved Lian and Ah Soon paying their respects to him at his house. Qian offered the wedding dinner too, although Zhen had paid for it all. The men would all get very drunk and tease the bride and the young maidens. Zhen had no intention of attending. Following the dinner, the bride went home and the groom would depart only to return under cover of darkness to find himself finally alone with the bride.

  Zhen turned his feet to Boat Quay and gazed over the river. She had not replied. He had had a moment of anxiety when her ship had departed but soon learned she was still in Singapore. Robert’s nyai had died in childbirth, and she had stayed to console him.

  The Baba wedding went on for twelve days, and, on the fifth, it was customary to present the bride and groom to the greater community, the merchants of all races and all of the Europeans so that they could pay their respects and leave ang pow. Invitations had been sent but whether she would come or not was uncertain, especially with a death in the house.

  He walked back to Market Street. The signs of trouble had already begun. A gang fight had broken out two nights in a row and Zhen knew it was Tay and Hong’s men. The police soon broke it up but it would get worse. Wang had reported smuggling activities on the Straits. Both men were already trying to import cheap chandu to undermine the other’s monopolies.

  ‘Keep an eye on it,’ he’d told Wang. ‘Find out who’s doing the smuggling, set spies to find informers here and in Johor. But do nothing else. Gather information and report back to me.’

  The chintengs, the revenue police of both Tay and Hong, were numerous. Their job was to keep an eye out, report illegal storing and smuggling of chandu and exact their vengeance. The chintengs could raid houses and often did. It led to a lot of bad blood and this blood spilled out onto the streets of Chinatown and in the plantations of Johor. The fact that Tay was Teochew and Hong Hokkien made it worse. The clans fought each other for greed, vengeance and pride, the men fought because they were violent and bored or for money.

  Cheng had given generously to the married couple. He had invited Zhen to dine at his home and Zhen knew very well what was in the air. He intended his daughter for him. Zhen didn’t know what he thought about this. Xia Lou was angry and distant and she intended to depart although he did not know if she meant to return soon. He needed to know
that.

  In two months the liquor farm bids would come up and his obligations would be coming to an end. Whilst her ship was not in port he knew she would not go. He hoped she would come to the open presentation of the couple. If she did not then he intended to go over the river secretly and speak with her.

  * * *

  Alex felt light-headed. Amber had hung on him from morning to night and finally, after dinner, he had simply left. To play billiards, he said, at the Hotel London and perhaps drink in the town with the men. And there he had headed for an hour or two and, as night set in, he made his way slowly to Chinatown.

  The house in China Street was an elegant house, built as many of them were on three floors. The front had a deep verandah and was decorated with dragons and fish made of turquoise and rose tiles. The back gave on to an alley where the night soil collectors came in the early morning. The back alley always had a door to the small courtyard where the traders and hawkers came.

  Into this back door Ah Soon would be smuggled, his head covered, accompanied by the master of ceremonies. This much he knew. Once the master of ceremonies had left, the house would be silent as the bride and groom were given the utmost privacy. This man would come back just before dawn to collect Ah Soon.

  He watched as Ah Soon arrived at around nine o’clock. Eyes would be everywhere at that time, Ah Soon had told him, for what was supposed to be secret was known to everyone. But once he had entered they would go to bed until he was obliged to creep out in the morning.