Separation, The (32 page)

She began the next day full of hope, though tired from lack of sleep. Once Adil voiced doubt that they were still in Malaya, she didn’t know what to think. He was certain they’d have heard something; she wasn’t so sure. She watched the merchant ships load up from huge warehouses: rubber, wood, silk. And further out to sea, distant liners slid like great white whales. Had one of those carried her girls? On her way to the shipping office on the busy wharf, she pictured their life on a liner. The excitement, the shivery thrill at night when lights flickered on the water, and the fishy smell of the ocean followed you about as water thumped the depths of the ship.

But at the shipping office, there was no record of Alec boarding a ship with two girls. The sweat grew cold on her skin. No ship bound for Australia, Borneo, England, or anywhere else. Afterwards, she walked slowly back along the dockside, and held back her tears. Not even the low-slung Sumatran boats that rocked in white tipped waves could raise a smile.

She called at the offices of
The
Straits Times
where a journalist waited to interview her for the woman’s page. Telephones rang, typewriters clattered, and the radio was turned up too loud. A group of chain-smoking men with nicotine-stained fingers whistled and stared openly at her legs. She felt their eyes on her back, but held her head high, hope returning a little. It was a long shot, but if Adil was wrong and the girls
were
still in Malaya, someone’s memory might be jogged. A woman who believes her kids are dead finds out they’re alive, but doesn’t know where they are; our female readers will love that, the journalist said, and lit another cigarette.

Afterwards Lydia stopped off to send a telegram. She stood in
the queue for half an hour, feeling the familiar prickling in her neck and chest. Alec had always insisted that whatever happened, nothing would entice him back to England, and although he was not in contact with his parents, could there be a chance they might know where he was? Alec’s father refused point blank to have a phone installed, though she checked with International Directories just in case. But no, so a telegram or letter it had to be and a telegram was faster. She thought of addressing it to Alec’s parents, but on a sudden hunch addressed it to Emma, at their house. Her heart flipped over at the thought of Emma reading it.

It was Adil’s idea to drive up to the reservoir to catch the sea turning sapphire. He’d just come off the phone after talking to the police in England and Australia. It was a humid evening and Lydia repeatedly wiped the sweat from her brow as they walked to the car.

‘So what did they actually say?’ she asked.

‘They said without proof Alec was actually in the country in the first place, how could he be missing?’

‘What about a criminal investigation?’

‘They can only investigate a crime committed in their country. The British police did at least suggest writing to the Inland Revenue, or to the Ministry of Pensions and National Insurance.’

‘I’ll do that the moment we get back, catch the first post tomorrow.’

‘I can turn round if you want?’

She hesitated. ‘Now, or in a few hours, it won’t make any difference. Let’s go on.’

‘We won’t be long. I just thought it might do you good.’

‘I know.’ She paused. ‘I could just go straight to England. Try Alec’s parents’ house. After all, you don’t think they’re in Malaya.’

‘I don’t, but you said yourself he’d never go back there. Why go chasing halfway round the world for nothing. It’ll cost a fortune and they could be anywhere. Let’s see if we can uncover something concrete first.’

‘Maybe a private eye?’

He pulled a face. ‘In my experience they’re a dishonest lot. Take your cash and leave you high and dry. But it might be worth contacting Somerset House in England. If he has remarried there’ll be a record of the marriage certificate.’

‘What about Interpol?’ she said.

He smiled. ‘Unlikely. I’ll write to the Interpol General Secretariat if you like, but they’re more concerned with organised crime.’

Lydia sighed, and on the fast road, lost herself in the rhythm of the car, composing letters in her head.

She was jolted from her thoughts when Adil veered off the main road and curved on to a twisting mountain road. Near the top he parked. The wind came in fresh off the sea, and in scented evening air they followed the remains of a path choked with ferns. He helped her round huge boulders, and when his hand touched hers she was aware of something she couldn’t explain, a sense of fate.
Yuanfen
the Chinese called it, a kind of binding force. Lydia couldn’t yet say if they were destined to be together, but at the very least he’d helped her acknowledge her own strength. Mauve light filtered across the tips of the mountain, throwing the hollows into darkness. He looked at her and smiled. The protective veneer gone, he was opening up to her, and the warmth she’d first glimpsed on the day they caught the train together was now plain to see.

‘Look,’ he said, taking a step away. ‘Over there. That’s the Parrotts’ house.’

‘It looks so close.’

‘As the crow flies, but by road considerably further.’

They carried on past waterfalls and rock pools. At the very top, she looked down the hillside. Tiny dots of light began to appear, like a necklace of fairy lights strung across the valley. Past the land at the western point, where the sky edged into the ocean, a band of pale lilac vanished in an explosion of orange and gold. She spun on her heels, caught the vast surface of the reservoir
turn red, and let out a slow whistle. Then she turned back to see the sky fast disappearing into the ocean, with only the twists of tiny purple boats marking the harbour.

Adil looked at the darkening sky. ‘We’d better get back. The weather’s worsening.’

‘Thanks for this. It’s wonderful.’

An expression of something she couldn’t name spread across his face. When she touched his hand, she felt she’d known all along, but wanted him to say the words. He didn’t speak, but came to stand in front of her, slipped down the straps of her dress, and put his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head and reached up to touch his face.

Neither of them spoke.

‘Maybe now is not the time,’ he said. He slid back the straps and glanced up at the sky again.

‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, just for once, life could be free of complication?’

He laughed. ‘Maybe, but my guess is we’d all be terribly bored.’

‘After what I’ve been through, I’ll settle for a slice of boredom, thanks.’

He grinned, took her hand, and they raced to the car, stumbling over the boulders and laughing, as they attempted to beat the rain and the dark.

By the time they reached Harriet’s house, fat drops of rain were splattering on the ground. They stood in the porch to escape a soaking, but a mature creeping fig, attached to the upper wall of the building, had spread under the glass roof and was dripping on to their hair and faces.

When Harriet’s narrow-hipped boy opened up, he frowned and gave them a suspicious look. Adil convinced him to lead them into the large hall, but the boy remained guarded. After a few minutes voices reached them, and Harriet appeared in the doorway, dressed in an acid yellow kimono. Harriet’s bright orange lipstick had spread to her teeth and ran up in lines from her top lip. Her eyes flicked from face to face, clearly not pleased
to see them, broad cheeks flushed. The rubies at her neck glinted, almost lost between the folds of flesh.

Was she drunk or just being cagey, Lydia wondered.

‘I thought I might have seen you before now,’ Harriet said.

Adil nodded.

‘Well, let’s sit down, for heaven’s sake.’

When Lydia studied Harriet’s face, she thought her aged since their previous encounter. Her roots were showing white, her eyelids drooped at the corners, and she’d gained an even heavier layer of fat. It might be George’s death, or just the strain of maintaining an outworn colonial life.

‘You’re looking at me strangely, dear. Don’t you like what you see?’ Harriet spoke with an edge Lydia hadn’t heard before.

Lydia muttered something meaningless.

‘As we are here,’ Adil began, looking steadily at Harriet.

‘As you are here,’ she cut in. ‘Let’s not mince words. I imagine you’d like to know the truth about George?’

Adil sat stony faced on the edge of his chair, his eyes unwavering.

There was a prickly silence in the room.

Harriet laughed unnaturally. ‘If only George hadn’t been tempted again. You came so very close to the truth, Adil, but by the time your officers arrived, we’d destroyed every scrap of evidence.’

‘The fraud?’ Lydia said.

‘Arms dealing, my dear. Alec knew, of course, was part of it to some extent. George refused to say exactly. But that’s the reason George helped Alec get away. False passports, false trail for you, my dear. I’m so sorry.’

‘False passports? False trail? Hang on. That means he
must
have taken the girls abroad.’

A hot panicky feeling engulfed her. She turned to Adil. He nodded. She wanted to speak but had to make do with taking deep breaths until the panic passed.

While Lydia struggled, Harriet cleared her throat and looked away.

Lydia managed to regain her voice. ‘I don’t understand. Why did Alec have to get away so desperately? It couldn’t just have been about me and Jack, surely.’

‘That played a part I think. Never underestimate a man’s pride, my dear.’

Lydia glared at her. ‘Oh, come on. He took my children.’

‘Nevertheless … but you’re right of course. George got greedy. Used government funds. That’s where Alec came in I think. Financial admin.’

Lydia felt her heart pause. ‘Are you claiming they were in it together?’

Harriet shrugged. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know to what extent.’

‘Well, I’ve called Alec a lot of things in my time, but I never thought him dishonest.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to worry –’

‘Worry? About Alec? That’s the last thing I’m doing right now!’

‘Well, anyway, there’s nothing left to prove it, except one, rather incriminating document.’ Harriet looked at Adil, with questioning brows.

He shook his head.

‘Then it’s as I expected, Alec has it, and he’s hardly likely to give himself away is he?’

‘What name?’ Adil interjected and gave Lydia a subtle warning look to keep quiet. ‘What name did he travel under?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘I’m sorry I don’t recall.’

Lydia felt sceptical and must have shown it in her face.

‘It is the truth,’ Harriet said. ‘I only heard it the once. Something rather similar to his own. Believe me, I was unaware until just before George died.’

‘So what happened?’ Adil asked.

‘When we burnt everything, we found the document was missing. George didn’t know if it was you, Adil, or Alec, who had it. Either way George couldn’t let the shame tarnish his name if the truth got out. A man in his position. That was when he confessed everything to me.’

Harriet stared at the floor, then lifted her face to them, feigning a smile that didn’t reach the eyes.

Lydia took a sharp breath in and pressed her lips together to control her anger. It ran through her mind that Harriet might know more than she was letting on.

‘If I hadn’t found out my children were alive, would you ever have told me, or would you have gone on letting me think them dead?’

‘My dear, I did tell you in my own way. I discovered Clara and it was me who asked Cicely to introduce you.’

‘But how could you do that to me? How could you be so cruel? When I found them gone it was you I came to.’

‘I promise I really didn’t know then.’

‘Maybe not then, but you have known for months.’

‘I’m truly sorry. I had to find a way to let you know that didn’t incriminate my husband. For all his faults I loved him, even after I found out what he’d done to you.’

There was a pause. Lydia stood, and feeling her heart pound, took a few steps away before turning on Harriet. ‘Jesus Christ, this is unbelievable! You’re telling me the reason George delayed my arrival in Ipoh was to give Alec a head start? That he lied to me about everything?’

Harriet nodded.

‘And you let me think my children were dead.’

‘I am sorry. It was so nearly different.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘From what George said, I think the travel arrangements took longer to organise than he’d expected.’

Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Dear God. I can hardly bear it. You mean I must have only just missed them.’

Harriet cleared her throat again but didn’t speak.

‘But why was all this necessary? Couldn’t Alec just have taken me with him?’

Harriet sighed. ‘You know why. He thought you were with Jack.’

Lydia felt her head explode. ‘What the hell would have happened if there hadn’t been a fire? What would have happened when I turned up in Ipoh and discovered Alec wasn’t there?’

‘I imagine he’d have planned another false trail for you,’ Harriet said.

‘And in the end?’

Guilt darkened Harriet’s features. ‘I’m sorry.’

The only sound was rain beating in the courtyard and then a sudden burst of thunder. Lydia felt her jaw tighten.

‘Do you have any idea what it did to me? Do you know that when I thought they were dead, it was as if a part of me ceased to exist?’

Harriet took a deep breath and stared at the floor.

‘No, I don’t suppose you do. You never had children, did you?’ Lydia’s voice began to crack. That she had been so hoodwinked, so deceived. It beggared belief. While she calmed herself, she heard Adil’s voice break the silence.

‘Will you stay on here?’ he asked Harriet. ‘I mean, since Independence so much has changed.’

‘Oh, I think so,’ Harriet said, her voice sounding brighter. ‘Where would I go? That’s the sadness of old age. What you’ve got is what you’ve got. No more second chances. I’m not complaining. I’ve always known about George’s sordid pastimes. I could put up with that, funnily enough. But not the dealing.’

Lydia stared at her. ‘I imagine not.’