Chapter Twenty-Six
Nothing happened the way Blanche had expected, once she had arrived at Bukit Kinta.
‘I couldn’t send Li Kim to the market, he seems to have disappeared,’ Ira reported when they were both safely inside the bungalow.
This seemed ominous news to Blanche. ‘Has anyone else gone? Anything else out of the ordinary?’
He shook his head, joining her to look down over the complex of lakes, dredgers, flat sunken areas of tin tailings, workshops of bamboo, attap and rusty corrugated-iron sheeting, all closely edged by jungle. ‘No. The men who’ve come in recently I’ve seen this morning shovelling ore near the dredgers ... ’
‘And the girl?’
Ira drew her attention towards the neat vegetable plots to the right where the mine village lay behind the gardens. ‘She’s coming this way now,’ he said, stepping away from the window.
‘So she is.’ Blanche watched her come nearer, noting the black cotton trousers and round-necked blouse the girl had on. She wanted to be sure she could pick the little communist out in any coming affray. ‘We must be careful. Play it as if you’re on her side, as if I’m just an interfering old bat.’
There was no time for more planning. ‘Mr Cook!’ the girl’s voice came from the front door, full of knowledge that he was there and had a visitor. ‘Are you in?’
‘Come through, Li Min,’ he called back.
‘Please to come out. I wish private word.’
Ira glanced at Blanche, who acquiesced with half-lowered eyelids. He left the room and she heard them move across to George’s old office. She slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot into the hall. The door to the study was not quite closed.
Ira was quoting her verbatim. ‘No, no,’ he said, ‘she’s just an interfering old bat. Come to see what’s happening so she can report to old Harfield when she visits him.’
‘Why her car gone?’
‘She’s sent the driver shopping. He’s calling back for her.’
‘Where she take Li Kim?’
‘My cook? She’s not taken him anywhere. I want to know where he is. Have you seen him?’
‘I no see.’
‘Do you know where he might have gone? Has he a girl?’
‘No!’ The tone was scoffing, but then she went on, ‘You have girl ... if you want.’
Blanche held her breath. Ira had got it right up to now, but this might be the greatest test.
‘I want,’ the young manager said gruffly, ‘but I’ll have to wait until — ’
‘Old bat gone!’
‘Sure!’ Ira said, sounding as if he moved in on the girl. ‘Then I’ll come. As soon as she’s gone ... ’
‘Ira! Baby! I miss you.’
The girl massaged the young man with her voice. Blanche turned and walked silently back to the lounge and her shoes. Standing at the window again, she closed her eyes and imagined the pleasure of shaking Li Min until her perfect white teeth rattled.
A few moments later Ira stood silently in the doorway. ‘I feel nauseous.’
‘You did well,’ she assured him. ‘Really — I listened.’
‘My cook’s disappearance seems to be a mystery to everyone.’
‘Perhaps just some stupid coincidence. Let’s pray it doesn’t upset anything.’
‘I’m uneasy about you staying, Blanche.’ He joined her at the window. ‘It all looks so peaceful but if there’s to be a real showdown ... ’
‘There is, I assure you, and when it happens I’m going to be here. I just hope it’s not too much longer, or our mutual friend may become really suspicious about my prolonged presence or my car’s prolonged absence.’
Ira glanced at her as if he too wondered about that.
‘Chemor’s just keeping himself and my car out of the way at one of the streetside cafes until he sees the army moving in. Then he’ll follow in — I hope.’
Ira swore. ‘I wish it’d get on and happen. What’ll be the first sign, d’you reckon?’
They were speculating when Ira suddenly stopped talking, raised a stilling forefinger and listened intently. They could soon make out the sound of heavy lorries grinding up the path into the mining complex. Army lorries, three-tonners, came quickly into view with soldiers sitting along the side seats beneath the obligatory protective netting. Ira and Blanche exchanged jubilant glances and hurried outside.
From the vantage point of the bungalow, they saw the soldiers jumping down from the lorries and running to encircle groups of workers or going towards the village. Following came police vehicles and Chemor in the Hammonds’ Ford. There were already soldiers at all the gates, roads and paths around the mine, rifles at the ready. Edwin had been as good as his word; those men had certainly melted unobserved into their positions — but where were the survivors he had promised to roll into Bukit Kinta?
There was much shouting and Blanche saw that the men were being brought from the dredgers and the workplaces and the women and children from the village, and all urged into lines. She saw the unmistakeable black-trousered figure of Li Min in the gateway of the kampong, saw her turn and run back towards a hut. Two soldiers broke into a run after her but Chemor overtook them and caught the girl before she reached the hut’s verandah. The soldiers went on while Chemor, gripping the struggling girl, brought her back to where the workers and villagers were being gathered. He released her, throwing her away from himself in the manner one releases a fighting cat.
So much was happening at once. Blanche recognised John Sturgess leading two men off towards the tin-roofed mine buildings, while one lorry still seemed to have a reserve of men just sitting still.
Where were her survivors?
She searched the milling throng and saw Inspector Aba strutting up and down the crowd of Malays and Chinese, shouting, ‘Identity papers! Everyone have ready! Now!’
‘In line! In line! Everyone in line,’ someone else ordered.
The shouting both intimidated and created confusion, so the workers and the families shuffled and circled around raising dust, making it seem even hotter than it already was, before they were finally sorted into some kind of line order.
Li Min and several men brought at gunpoint from the village were herded to the head of one line and kept under special guard. Sturgess was there, joined by the inspector. Sturgess lifted a hand towards the soldiers still in the lorry; Blanche followed the gesture, obviously some directive.
It was at this moment that Blanche saw Liz. Her daughter emerged from the middle of the soldiers still seated in the lorry. Standing up totally exposed on the back, she looked all around. Blanche found herself shaking her head in delight and wonderment as she watched her daughter’s glance sweep sky and hills. Otherworldly like her father, taking in the view first!
Blanche waved furiously as a young red-bearded man came from the front passenger seat to help her down.
Liz became suddenly aware of a woman near George’s bungalow waving like a mad thing. She recognised her mother with a shock of combined love and guilt. ‘Mother, what are you doing here?’ She ran to greet her.
Blanche held her arms wide for her daughter and saw as Liz ran to her the set of Neville’s head, the way the eyes focused on her now to the total exclusion of the screaming, shouting tension that was all around them — like her father, and because of that so very precious.
‘Liz!’ She clasped her daughter to her, registering the extra thinness of her body as she held her tight. ‘Thank God! Thank God!’
‘Mother! Forgive me for going off like that! I must have put you through hell.’ Liz saw new lines about her mother’s mouth, etchings of determination, she thought, or worry she had caused.
‘Hell, yes,’ Blanche confirmed, ‘but more because I watched you go.’