House of Trembling Leaves, The (7 page)

‘‘Do you think what I'm doing, turning my back on my parents, is defying nature?'' she asked Sum Sum.

‘‘
Ayo Sami!
Having sex with a goat is defying nature. Being born with three ears instead of two is defying nature. All you're doing is following your dreams, lah. You always complaining how much your parents control your life and how they're forcing you to marry One-eyed Giant, it only natural you rebel, no? By Dharmakaya heaven, I'd run like hell too from him if he wanted to marry me!''

‘‘They're still precious to me. I'm abandoning them, throwing my past away with a wave of a handkerchief.''

‘‘
Aiyoo!
Why you being so mego-dramatic, lah!''

‘‘I wonder if Sarojini Naidu went through all this when she told her parents she wanted to go to Cambridge.''

‘‘Did she run away too?''

‘‘No, her father wanted her to become a mathematician, but she was only interested in poetry. When she was 16 the Nizam of Hyderabad was so impressed by her poems he arranged a scholarship for her to study in England. Now she's known as ‘The Nightingale of India'.''

‘‘And you'll be known as the ‘Mego-dramatist of Malaya', is it?''

Lu See paused, feeling a slither of regret. ‘‘Do you think Mama's furious?''

‘‘I'm sure she's damn-powerful bloody livid.'' Sum Sum clicked her tongue just to show how livid.

Lu See stretched her willowy legs. ‘‘I still can't believe they wanted me to marry the One-eyed Giant.''

The One-eyed Giant was their nickname for Chow Cheam. He lived five miles away and was the sole heir to the Chow Titt Municipal Bank. At the age of eleven he'd been blinded in his left eye whilst playing badminton. The shuttlecock had struck him before he could blink. Now, aged twenty-three, he was a squinting, arrogant, flat-footed brute, with dog-fart breath and a face studded with pockmarks.

‘‘Your father believed it was good for the family business. But deep down Mama probably understands, lah. She was in love once too, you know – she married your father after all, even though the fortune teller said he was unsuitable. Besides,'' she puckered her lips, ‘‘it's not the first time you've run away.''

Momentarily bewildered, Lu See frowned. Then, raising her eyebrows, she tilted her head at the memory: it was the day her aunty Mimi was getting married. She was playing in the garden and heard her mother calling for her. ‘‘Come on now, we're late! Where you gone,
hnn
?'' But Lu See didn't want to be a flower girl, standing in front of all those people, with everyone staring at her. Even then she'd yearned to be free, to be like the village children – running shoeless through the fields, hunting butterflies, climbing trees and picking mangoes. So she went and hid under the hibiscus bush. ‘‘Where are you, Lu See? Lu See!'' Later, much later, she went and took cover down by the river. Mr Bala, the gardener, eventually found her and brought her home. It was dark by then.

‘‘I've disgraced them,'' she sighed.

‘‘Could be worse, lah.'' Sum Sum's tone was gently teasing. ‘‘You could've gotten pregnant.''

7.45 a.m. Mid-February. The Customs officer in Felixstowe took his stick of yellow chalk and marked her eel-skin trunk with an X before ushering the girls on their way.

Instinctively, Sum Sum looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was following, but she saw no sign of the ‘mole man'. In fact, there had been no further sightings of him since Bombay.

A porter took the luggage and, choking with anticipation, they hurried past the bookstand and into the greeting enclosure. A group of about twenty people had gathered. One woman held up a banner saying ‘Welcome Home Albert.'

‘‘Can you see him? Is Adrian here?'' asked Lu See.

‘‘
Aiyo!
I don't see him. He's probably still in front of the mirror doing his hair, lah.''

‘‘He must be somewhere. He wrote to say he would be here to meet us. I sent word giving him our arrival date.'' They looked at every face but there was no sign of Adrian. ‘‘Come, he must be waiting outside.'' They hurried through the main doors to stand on the street outside the wharf buildings. From high up the sounds of seagulls floated down. By the docks a crowd of labourers gathered by a hut, thrusting their black books forward, baying for a job as the stevedore yelled ‘‘Call off –'' and chose his men for the day.

‘‘
Wahhh!
So cold, lah! Like sticking your face in an ice-cube!''

The roads were grey and wet. Unlike the succulent pigments of the tropics, Felixstowe looked sucked dry of colour, as if coated in an eczema of dust blown from an old book.

‘‘There he is!'' Sum Sum yelled.

Lu See felt a rush of liquid weakness in her knees.

Tossing his silk-lined trilby high into the sky, Adrian rushed up to Lu See and lifted her up by the waist, swinging her around and around. ‘‘You look beautiful,'' he said into her hair.

She had missed him so much that the bones in her chest ached for him

She clung to his neck and they only separated when a horse-drawn Express Dairy cart trundled by stacked tall with 10-gallon steel cans.

Adrian led them to a scruffy looking Austin Chummy with tall, thin wheels parked across the square.

‘‘New motor-car?'' she joked, draping a tartan blanket across her lap.

He shrugged, tipping the porter who touched his cap with thanks.

Adrian slipped on a pair of string-backed driving gloves. ‘‘Who are you looking for?'' he asked, noticing both Lu See and Sum Sum were watching people coming through the crowd.

‘‘I think your cousin, the one known as the Black-headed Sheep, was on the ship.''

‘‘Lu See thinks he is following us,'' blurted Sum Sum.

‘‘Why would he do that?'' Sum Sum explained why, keeping her story short. With a dubious frown, Adrian climbed into the driver's seat. ‘‘Well, the less you have to do with him the better.''

The car clattered down a narrow lane passing a horse-cart laden with straw.

In the back seat Sum Sum sang snatches from an Urdu folk song.

‘‘Enough room back there?'' asked Adrian.

‘‘Plenty,'' replied Sum Sum. ‘‘Enough to fit six people and a goat, lah.''

Minutes later they were racing through the village of Little Piddle, leaving behind sleepy pubs and hedgerows and thatched cottages, heading northwest towards Ipswich. Theirs was the only car on the road. Lu See saw cows in the fields, horses in their paddocks, sweeping pastureland that stretched on and on over the hills. It was a picture of tranquillity; a collage of winter greens and browns. Two hours later, she caught a signpost that said they were a mile from the Corn Exchange. She'd already been impressed by the panorama of wheat and grasslands at the town's perimeter, but as soon as she entered Cambridge proper her eyes lit up with animation. Although she had never been to Cambridge before, had not seen King's Chapel, nor its river and punt boats and the newly erected University Library, it was all strangely familiar to her from Adrian's letters.

As they rolled down Castle Street, leaning back as they descended the steep slope, crossing Chesterton Lane, and passing Magdalene College on the left, Lu See noticed how the town's cobbled streets were lined with bookshops and antique stores and every thirty feet or so she came across another sculpted-stone façade. ‘‘St. John's on your right, Divinity School on your left,'' exclaimed Adrian. ‘‘Here's Trinity College, and over there,'' he said, pointing, ‘‘behind that massive horse chestnut tree, is King's Parade.'' Everywhere she looked she saw Gothic spires, Tudor arches, gargoyles, steeples, turrets and towers. Here and there she spotted students clad in black college gowns and squares; some sat on wooden benches reading, others stood about chatting, warming their faces in the wan morning sun.

Lu See turned to Sum Sum. ‘‘What do you think?'' she asked.

Sum Sum gazed up at the turrets and towers and gables. ‘‘Everywhere looks like Dracula's castle.''

The jalopy coughed just as Adrian spoke again. ‘‘I found you some digs on Portugal Place. I told the landlady, Mrs Slackford, all about you and your plans for Girton. You and Sum Sum can live there until we get married.''

‘‘And when will that be?''

‘‘In the summer. Let's get you settled into Cambridge life first.''

At the entrance to Park Parade, Adrian left the Austin Chummy near the Laurel Tea Rooms and, travelling trunk in hand, steered the girls up a crooked cobbled pedestrian street to a blue painted door with the number 23 trimmed in red. ‘‘Now remember,'' he said in a stage whisper. ‘‘There are different formalities in England. Discretion and restraint is the hallmark of class. We're the only Chinese people your landlady, Mrs Slackford, has ever met so–''

‘‘Yes, yes, don't worry. We'll be on our best behaviour. I'll try not to spit on the rug and belch noisily after each course.''

He rolled his eyes. Looking eager, Lu See lifted the heavy brass knocker and let it fall.

A hunched, silver-haired lady appeared at the door, squinting at her as though she was peering through a pall of cigarette smoke. She was dressed in a brown housedress and thick woollen stockings. ‘‘Yew must be Miss Teoh.''

‘‘Hello, Mrs Slackford.'' They shook hands. ‘‘Please call me Lu See.''

‘‘Well come on in. No need to remove yer shoes. We're not in Japan now, yew know. Four basic rules for yew to follow – no food of any kind in yer bedrooms, no gentlem'n callers.'' She raised her eyebrows at Adrian accusingly. ‘‘No pets and we have a nightly curfew of 10 p.m. Is that clear?''

‘‘Yes, very.''

‘‘It's two pounds a week, an extra five bob if yew want breakfast and supper.''

‘‘No problem.''

‘‘And oi'll expect two weeks in advance. The whole of the top floor is occupied by me. Yew and yer cousin have the two bedrooms on the first floor. Bath nights are Tuesday and Saturday when the hot water boiler's turned on. ''

‘‘Fine.''

Mrs Slackford smiled. ‘‘Well, now that that's all sorted, come and have a look round, won't yew? Yer friend Mr Woo will have to wait here.''

Lu See walked into a bright little living room decorated with tapestries, chintz sofas and a leather armchair covered in lace antimacassars. A little further in, she found a dining room filled with walnut furniture and a large 19th century refectory table. There was an old stone fireplace in the far end of the room and the walls were lined with Victorian oil paintings depicting bucolic scenes of English village life. Everything smelt of wood polish. On the refectory table was an Emerson 5 tube phonograph, gently playing a swing band number.

‘‘I usually don't enjoy any of this modern music,'' Mrs Slackford said, stopping to turn up the volume. ‘‘But I do like this new fellow, Benny Goodman.''

‘‘The house is very nice,'' Lu See declared, taking in her surroundings.

‘‘Mr Slackford was a furniture restorer. He loved nothing better than sourcing damaged pieces and fixing them up.''

‘‘How nice,'' said Lu See. ‘‘And Mr Slackford is …'' She craned her neck towards the kitchen expectantly.

‘‘Dead. Killed in the war. The Boer War.''

Boer War? God, she must be ancient
, thought Lu See.
Now, don't say anything silly. Remember to respect the elderly.
‘‘I'm so sorry to hear that, Mrs Slackford.''

The landlady took in a sharp breath. ‘‘Nothing to be sorry about, dear, he's been dead, oh, 35 years now. His pension keeps me in tea bags but not much else. Well then, how about a cuppa tea? Let me show yew the kitchen. We got sausages in the meat safe and oi get fresh eggs each morning from across the way.'' Lu See and Sum Sum followed her down the corridor into a small room with a stove, a meat safe and a three-door cupboard filled with tins of tea, Horlicks and odd bits of crockery. There was also a shelf stacked with white-and-blue teacups.

‘‘My cousin Sum Sum can help.''

Removing four cups and a teapot from the shelf, Mrs Slackford filled the kettle with water from the tap. ‘‘If yew take sugar yew'll find it in the cupboard.''

Sum Sum rummaged about and found a bowl of salt, a jar of flour and a black sock held tight with a clothes peg. When she looked into the black sock she found it filled with birdseed.

‘‘Oi often feed the pigeons in the park,'' Mrs Slackford conceded.

‘‘
Aiyo
, good idea, lah. Fatten them up for a roast, is it?'' The landlady didn't reply.

Once Lu See and Sum Sum returned from their tour of the house Adrian announced that he was leaving. ‘‘I'm returning to my college. I've a lecture at noon. Mrs Slackford, why don't you show the girls the market square, I'm sure they'd like to see a bit of the town.'' He gave Lu See a wink and saw himself out. ‘‘I'll see you later.''

‘‘I … I think I'll stay behind and unpack my things.'' Lu See concluded, passing Sum Sum her purse. ‘‘Sum Sum, please can you buy a packet of Bee Bee brandy snap biscuits, a few metal hangers for the closet, a tin of drinking chocolate, a bar of Cashmere Bouquet soap and a pair of woollen socks.'' She turned to Mrs Slackford. ‘‘I never expected it to be so cold. I think I'm going to have to wear two or three layers. And perhaps you can buy Mrs Slackford some flowers for her bedroom.''

Within minutes Mrs Slackford had her headscarf and coat on. ‘‘Be back in half an hour or so. Yew sure yew'll be all right on yer own?''

‘‘Yes, thanks,'' Lu See replied. ‘‘Bye, Sum Sum.''

 

In the park, hidden behind a tree, Adrian watched Sum Sum and her landlady head down Park Street. As soon as they were out of sight he sprinted along Portugal Place and rapped on the door of number 23.