The Red Thread (24 page)

She took another sip and recalled his face, his parted lips that she had wanted to touch. She thought about what she knew of relations between men and women. More than most, she supposed. From a dictionary of
materia medica
in her grandfather's library she had a pretty good knowledge of human anatomy. As a child on the island, when roaming and playing with the local children, she had seen native men and women together. When she asked, her mother had explained that this was the way people showed their love for one another and how a baby was made. Her mother, a woman of the islands, considered it natural. Now she realised how fortunate she had been in acquiring this information, for in Scotland the subject was taboo.

Her first kiss had been a rather tepid business with Lonnie, a friend of her cousin, Duncan, when she was fourteen. More kisses and fumblings with Lonnie at fifteen. Things had got a bit better at seventeen, when she met Will, the good-looking, thoroughly unsuitable son of a farmer. She had not cared very much for him—he was somewhat arrogant and sure of himself—but boredom and curiosity combined to bring them together. Knowing the consequences, she made sure it all stopped short of losing her virginity, but she had enjoyed their secret meetings. She had learnt some local slang. His erect penis was called a
fearchas
. He had become quite enamoured of her, and she learned quickly how the power of a man's desire could overwhelm him for he often came stickily in her hand. She had not minded, had even licked her fingers once to taste the salty stuff. This act had so inflamed him that, alarmed, she had never done it again. Had it gone on much longer she might well have been in danger of succumbing, so she was glad it came abruptly to an end when he had been sent off to join the navy. How free I was. The thought suddenly came to her. Left to her own devices she had had experiences far beyond those of most young Scottish women.

From eighteen she had been constantly thrown into the company of so-called eligible young men from the Aberdeen gentry, but none had caught her fancy and, thankfully, Aunt Jeannie had successfully defended her from her grandmother's increasingly insistent demands. She had been saved by coming to Singapore, of that she was in no doubt. Here, with no elders to exert pressure, there was no hurry to marry, though she was definitely considered eligible in many quarters and might have her pick of several men. So how on earth could she entertain the idea of a dangerous liaison with a man from a country and culture she knew nothing about? That he felt a powerful attraction to her, she was very sure.

24

In Baba Tan's house, another woman was running her hands mentally over Zhen's face and body. Tan's eldest daughter, Noan, was sitting in front of her mirror daydreaming. She was a pretty girl, with deep brown eyes, a button nose and a plump, round face. Except for her skin which was a shade too dark, her looks were perfect. Moon-shaped faces and short noses were the height of Peranakan good looks.

She was brushing her black hair preparing for bed. She had dismissed her maid, an act so unusual that the girl had looked terrified.

Now, putting down her brush, Noan rose and began to take off her
baju panjang
, the long coat all
nonyas
wore over their
sarongs
. Underneath was a bodice which she slowly raised over her head, releasing her breasts. She stood contemplating her image in the mirror, turning to the side and front, pulling her long hair over her chest and flicking it back. She was pleased with what she saw. Her breasts were large and firm, everything to please her new husband. At this thought of Zhen, she raised her hands and touched her nipples, which immediately became erect. Slightly ashamed, she put on her nightdress and removed her
sarong
.

She was not entirely naive. She had married cousins, and she often heard them talking when they didn't know she was around. She knew men liked to touch women's breasts. Since the news of her betrothal had been announced, her mother had begun to talk about what she should expect on her wedding night. Noan knew that they would lie in the same bed together and that her husband would put his ‘appendage' into her. That's what her mother had called it: the appendage. How this would happen was something of a mystery. She had seen her little male cousins naked and knew what this appendage was, but how such a little floppy thing could go into her she had no idea. Once this happened, her mother said, it might hurt a little bit and there could be a small amount of blood. Noan was rather scared of this but her mother reassured her. The sheets would be kept as proof of her maidenhood and the consummation of the marriage. This was all perfectly routine.

Then, her mother said, he would move around until he had finished and put a seed inside her. This seed would grow and eventually become a baby. Noan wanted to ask her mother what it had been like on her first night. She had so many other questions, too, but she did not dare ask. The subject was already embarrassing enough.

She raised her nightdress and took off her underclothes and examined the lower half of her body. She frowned. She was shapely; her waist was small, but she didn't like her ankles which she felt were too thick. She began to touch herself and, raising her leg onto a chair, examined herself in the mirror. With a moue she lowered her nightgown and sat down on the chair. Her mother had told her that it was best to just let her husband do whatever he wanted. Not all women liked it, she said, but it was part of her duties.

She let her mind roam over Zhen's face. She was so lucky to know what her future husband looked like. She had mentioned this to no one. She was sure she would quite like whatever he did because she already knew she wanted to kiss his lips and touch him. At this thought, a little pulse began to throb between her legs. Raising her skirt, she parted her legs a little and contemplated this sensation. It had happened before but, this time, it felt much stronger, and she instinctively put her hand down and began to rub between the lips. This felt very good, and she let out a low moan. Horrified, she stopped. Moving away from the mirror, she went to her small embroidery table and began rather furiously to bead the
mungot kasok
, the shoe face of the extra slippers she was making for her wedding day.

The freedom of her early childhood had ended abruptly at twelve years old. Since then she had spent her days in this house preparing herself for marriage. She had learned how to pound the spices for the hot dishes, bake the
nonya
cakes and become expert at embroidery. She had made exquisitely beaded slippers for her husband-to-be for the exchange of gifts ceremony. She had sewn the phoenixes and peonies, the down-turned bats and the butterflies on the red curtain of the wedding bed. She had just put the finishing touches to the heavily embroidered handkerchief she would carry attached to her ring finger on her wedding day. This would display her skills publicly, and she was proud of her workmanship, which she dedicated to Zhi Nu, the fairy daughter of the Emperor of Heaven and Goddess of the Loom. Noan kept a painted image of Zhi Nu, the weaver maid who spun the silky robes for the heavenly hosts, made the gossamer clouds in the sky and wove the tapestry of the constellations.

She knew exactly how to prepare the
sireh
for her mother and old aunts from the gold-and-lacquer set her mother had been given when she herself had been betrothed to Noan's father. She knew how to take the betel leaf, cut the areca nut, put in the lime paste and fold the quid. She had been permitted to chew since she had turned fifteen but had not much liked it. However, this practice was so central to a
nonya's
social life that she was given no choice. The men never took
sireh
, which was considered a feminine prerogative, preferring tobacco.

When the old women gathered for games of
cherki
and gossip she was kept busy keeping them supplied with
sireh
and emptying the porcelain spittoons which soon filled up with the red spit which emerged with regularity from their mouths. Many of the older women had stumpy teeth and mouths that looked like they were filled with blood. Some could no longer chew, and for them she had to pound the mixture in a pestle until it was soft. In Peranakan society, white teeth on a woman were considered to be animal-like. Obedience to her mother and constant practice had reconciled her to it, and she was pleased that her mouth and teeth had become stained pink.

Now the marriage for which she had been preparing for the last four years was nearly here. The horoscopes of herself and Zhen had been passed to the
sinseh
, the diviner, and the union had received his blessing. This was a huge hurdle, for nobody dared risk defiance of an unfavourable horoscope. Tan had paid the
sinseh
very well. There would be no obstacle to the marriage. The
sinseh
had chosen auspicious dates for the pre-nuptial rituals, and the wedding itself which was some months away.

The mistress of ceremonies, the
sangkek um
, had been booked. Eventually Noan's mother would choose the various bridal gowns to be worn over the ceremony, which would last twelve days. The
sangkek um
had a large array of richly embroidered and beautiful costumes for this special event. She had jewellery, too, for less well-off families, but Nonya Tan did not need it. Her household had the finest jewels in Singapore.

The bridal room in Tan's house had been selected. The elaborately decorated wedding bed would arrive from China within weeks. Tan's own wedding bed had come from China, and he had ordered his first daughter's when she had turned fifteen.

Noan put aside her beading. As she lay on her bed she began to cry. She had spent years preparing for just this event, but now she felt like a small child, alone and afraid. She turned and buried her head in her pillow.

25

The day of Sang's funeral dawned sunny. The promise of such a sumptuous spectacle had brought the entire town out of doors. The route of the funeral cortège had been pasted up all over the town for some days, together with admonitions and orders for a peaceful and respectful procession. Charlotte and most of the Europeans had gathered in the grounds of the Armenian church, for the cortège was due to leave Sang's house on High Street and turn into Hill Street, where it would cross the river at Coleman's newly opened bridge. From here, they would have a splendid view. Father Lee, who was standing near to Charlotte and Takouhi, was very knowledgeable on Chinese customs, which he had studied in his spare time while at the seminary in Penang. He had agreed to explain what was going on.

Charlotte was waiting to see again the man she now knew was called Zhen. Robert had explained his role in the procession, and she thought him even more attractive in this role of peacekeeper but said nothing about it to Robert, for she had determined that the situation required every degree of caution.

High Street and Hill Street were thronged with onlookers of every nationality. Charlotte heard the sound of firecrackers, gongs and drums and the harsh jangle of Chinese instruments. Gradually this noise grew louder, and she could see a great throng of Chinese men moving and throwing ropy bundles of firecrackers. Smoke and the acrid smell of cordite filled the air. Then came two men throwing huge bundles of round pieces of paper into the air and scattering them along the road. This, Father Lee explained, was hell money, used to buy the goodwill of malicious, wandering elves so that they would not molest the wraith of the deceased spirit as it made its way to the grave. Towering above them was the paper image of a grotesque man. As it drew closer, she could see it was being hauled by a dozen men on a carriage. The creature had three eyes, one in the middle of the forehead, and fierce-looking eyebrows of black feathers. Three small standards stuck out from the back of his neck. In his right hand he carried a staff, an ensign of office, and in his left he held out a paper some ten inches square containing the picture of a tiger's head. On either side of the carriage stood two men in masks, armed with spears and clothed in sackcloth, with long, dishevelled hair. These, Father Lee explained, were ‘open-the-way' men. They and the image went before the coffin to keep the devils away.

This great image lumbered around the corner, followed by men carrying a series of large white paper lanterns on poles, covered in blue Chinese characters showing the titles Sang had borne in life. Then came at least a hundred standard-bearers of the
kongsi
, led by Ah Liang and another Chinese man. They were dressed in white and carried a black flag with yellow symbols. A sea of flags rose above them like a vast tidal wave. Father Lee pointed out the flags of the Cantonese, Teochow, Hakka and Hainanese. The noise of the band had grown loud, and Charlotte could see the huge drums behind a group of men who Father Lee indicated were the officers of Sang's fleet of junks. A gaily painted and gilded pavilion went before the orchestra, incense pouring out from every side, and the richness of its perfumes filled the air. The band slowly turned the corner with the most raucous noise; Charlotte had to cover her ears. More pavilions, one with a roasted pig and one bearing fruits and cakes, succeeded the musicians. Then came priests and altars. A splendid shrine containing a portrait of Sang was carried by male relatives, then children carrying baskets of flowers.

Charlotte scoured the crowd to catch a glimpse of Zhen. As the shrine turned the corner, she caught sight of a boy and, looming over him, the enormity of the catafalque bearing Sang's coffin. Despite the heat and noise and the vast throng which surrounded him, he was a silent, lonely little figure. This was Sang's only son. Poor child, dressed in sackcloth and looking dishevelled and scared, was doing his best to make a good show of his lamentations, but to Charlotte he just looked exhausted.

Her eyes took in the canopy of white silk which shrouded the coffin, the richness of the coloured embroidery and the great fringe which fell almost to the ground. This vast object was carried on a black wooden dais shouldered by some forty men. After the enormity of the catafalque, the small shapes of the women of Sang's house trailing behind seemed an anticlimax.