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Authors: Lynette Silver

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BOOK: In the Mouth of the Tiger
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‘We've been so anxious to meet you,' Evelyn said looking me up and down with wide-open, appraising eyes. ‘Denis has been broadcasting your charms up and down Malaya. He's made me feel quite jealous.'

I smiled back uncertainly, then nearly stumbled on an orange.

Roger steadied me firmly. ‘Welcome to Berserah, my dear. We've put you in a room overlooking the sea. You've had a long drive so why don't you go and get freshened up? We'll be having
makan kechil
on the front patio at about seven.' I liked him immediately, a quiet, shy, steady man with a suggestion of fussiness that was reassuring.

Denis gave my hand a squeeze as we parted, and I followed the boy up to my room. As we were mounting the broad marble staircase there was a peal of laughter from Evelyn and I looked back to see her hanging round Denis's neck, her face tilted extravagantly up to his, laughing into his eyes.

My room was small but comfortable, with French doors opening to a balcony. I stepped outside, breathing deeply to steady myself. I had been ruffled by the stupid accident with the fruit, and perhaps even more by Evelyn's intimate laughter with Denis. A pearl-grey dusk had fallen, lending an opalescent, fairytale aspect to the scene. Smooth lawns swept down from the house to a beach that curved away on either side, while about a mile away to the right the lights of a small kampong glittered from behind a screen of coconut palms. The sea was flat calm, a milky expanse that stretched away into infinity.

Even during the few minutes I stood out on the balcony the scene darkened perceptibly, so that the bushes and trees of the garden became dark mysterious shapes, and the coconut palms along the waterfront black cut-outs against the lighter sky. I shivered slightly, suddenly feeling alone and vulnerable, then hurried inside, closing the glass doors against the gathering night.

The plan was for us all to gather at dinner, and then to make a foray to the Kuantan Club to enjoy its Friday night dance, famous throughout Malaya. There were eight of us in the party: Roger and Evelyn, Denis and me, Mac and a tow-headed young nurse from the KL General Hospital called Fiona, and Malcolm Bryant and his sister Dorothy. Dorothy was the oldest woman in the group, a ‘Fishing Fleeter' in her thirties who had come out from England five years before in a so-far unsuccessful search for a husband.

Dinner in the Hornungs' huge, formal dining room was not a success, at least as far as I was concerned. In fact for me it was a disaster. To start with I'd dressed for dancing while everyone else had dressed formally. ‘Oh, we always change before going into Kuantan,' Evelyn had said airily when I stuttered my apologies. ‘I should have told you but I quite forgot.'

And then I nearly choked on a piece of lamb. My throat was dry from nerves when Mac had called on me to propose a toast (‘You're the youngest here, my dear – Vice President of the Mess') and I'd tried to swallow the meat I'd been chewing too quickly. I'd turned beetroot red before Denis cleared the problem with a whack on the back, and I sat there for the rest of the meal as quietly as a mouse.

‘Can you dance?' Evelyn called out to me across the table over coffee. ‘I hope you can, darling, because our crowd has got a bit of a reputation to uphold.'

‘Not terribly well,' I said weakly. I loved dancing, and had done rather well in the Convent dance classes, but the Sisters' repertoire was rather dated and I feared I wouldn't be up to the latest steps. I looked across to Denis for support, but he had turned to Evelyn and was saying something to her quietly. By the delighted look on Evelyn's face, and the way she covered her smile with her hand, I guessed it was something private and funny.

So I looked at Malcolm for support instead, and found it. He smiled reassuringly at me, shaking his head gently as if to say it was not important how I danced.

At about nine o'clock we packed ourselves into the Alvis and Malcolm's Morris Cowley, and sped the ten miles or so into Kuantan. The club was a grand affair, the biggest in Pahang, and it was crowded as we made our way to the ballroom.

My debut on the dance floor with Denis was a nightmare. I was so tense that I could hardly move one foot after the other, and then I lost track of the rhythm altogether and stepped heavily on his foot. ‘I do beg your pardon,' Denis said kindly as if it were his fault, which made things worse. Finally the bracket came to an end and we retreated to our table, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘What a lovely pair,' Evelyn said lifting a champagne glass. ‘Where did you learn such skill, Nona?' Then she pounced and whisked Denis onto the floor.

I sat there, trying not to see how well the two of them danced together
and feeling absolutely awful. This was the worst possible start to the weekend. I knew that from now on I would be angry and upset: angry with myself for being such a broken reed, and upset that Denis appeared to have fallen for Evelyn's wiles so completely.

‘Don't worry, Nona,' Malcolm said quietly into my ear. ‘This modern stuff has the best of us beaten at times. What say we wait until they play something worth getting up for, and then you and I will show them how it's really done?'

‘You're still looking out for me, aren't you, Malcolm?' I said, touching his hand. He looked a little nonplussed so I went on. ‘Denis told me that you kept a bit of an eye out for me after Robbie died. It's nice to know that someone cared.'

Malcolm smiled. ‘You're very much worth looking after, Nona,' he said. ‘You were always pretty but you have grown into a very lovely young woman indeed. You're going to make someone extremely happy one day.'

‘You're embarrassing me,' I said. ‘Not that I really mind. I need a little bit of morale-building.' I picked up my glass of champagne and held it up to him. ‘To my guardian angel.' Then I gulped down the whole glass in one go, keeping my eyes fixed on Malcolm's as I did so.

I decided that if Denis was going to flirt with Evelyn, I was going to flirt with Malcolm.

The band struck up ‘Pride of Erin', a peace offering to the older generation present. The Sisters had not only known ‘Pride of Erin', it had been their clear favourite. I knew I could dance it beautifully, and stood up with my hands extended towards Malcolm.

Malcolm was very good, light on his feet and with a magnificent sense of rhythm. We danced beautifully together, quickly earning pride of place in our particular circle of dancers. I kept looking for Denis, hoping he was watching us, but when I did spot him he was back at our table with Evelyn, his head down and close to hers.

So I danced on. The music changed tempo to the jitterbug songs of the twenties, then to the very latest airs, but my blood was up and I danced on as if my life depended on it. Soon my enthusiasm, and Malcolm's skill, had cleared a space for us and we danced alone in the middle of the floor to the heady sound of people clapping us in tune with the music.

‘Enough!' Malcolm cried finally. We were both streaming with perspiration and he led me straight out onto the club's open verandah. It was
dark, and a cool breeze came in off the sea.

‘Stay here and I'll get us a drink,' Malcolm said proprietarily. I stood in the dark, my heart beating with a heady mixture of triumph and excitement, until he returned with two long glasses of champagne. ‘To us,' he said. ‘Whae's like us? Naebody!'

I took a long drink. ‘I don't think I've enjoyed dancing so much in my entire life!' I said. ‘Where on earth did you learn to dance like that?'

‘Legacy of a misspent youth, I'm afraid,' Malcolm chuckled. He put his glass down on the verandah balcony and placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘But it takes two to tango, as they say. You dance beautifully, Nona. We make a fine team together, don't you think?'

‘Indeed we do.' Malcolm kept his hands on my shoulders and I began to feel just a little uncomfortable. ‘I think we should go back,' I said. ‘Denis will be wondering what's happened to me.'

Malcolm removed his hands and took a long breath. ‘I need to talk to you about Denis, Nona. Tell me – how serious are you about him?'

I thought for a moment that I might prevaricate, but I simply couldn't. ‘I love him with all my heart,' I said simply.

Malcolm sighed. ‘Then I am going to have to talk to you like a Dutch uncle,' he said. ‘Remember, I'm your guardian angel, and I'll be dammed if I'll let you get hurt.'

‘Do you really have to say anything?' I asked, my heart sinking. I suspected I knew what he was going to tell me.

‘What do you know of the man?'

‘I know he has broken a few hearts,' I said. ‘I suspect he's no angel where women are concerned. But I'm quite prepared to take the risk, Malcolm, so please don't spoil things by giving me a lecture. My mother has already done that.'

‘I'm not talking about Denis's reputation with women,' Malcolm said. ‘I asked you what you know about the man himself. About Denis Elesmere-Elliott?'

I felt irritation rising but kept my voice level. ‘Tim Featherstone, who knows Denis well, says he is a perfect English gentleman. In fact, he says he is out of the top drawer. Good family, good public school, good university. A fine sportsman and a fair businessman.'

There was a long silence, and then Malcolm put his drink down and again gripped me by the shoulders. ‘I'm a member of the FMS Police Force,
Nona. We try to keep an eye on people. That's our duty to the community. What if I were to tell you that as far as we can ascertain there is no such person as Denis Elesmere-Elliott?'

I laughed. ‘Then who on earth is that handsome, dashing young man I'm with tonight?' I asked. I was determined to keep things light-hearted, and jabbed a finger into Malcolm's ribs. ‘He seemed pretty solid to me this afternoon . . .'

Suddenly, Malcolm crushed me to him and kissed me. I was caught completely by surprise, and his tongue was in my mouth before I realised what was happening. But then I fought back furiously, pushing at his chest with both hands.

He released me immediately. ‘I'm sorry, Nona,' he gasped. ‘I was carried away. I truly am sorry.'

I stood there, breathless with shock, trying to regain the poise I'd had a moment before. ‘Please take me back inside, Malcolm,' I said as steadily as I could.

‘Again, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. But look, there is something important that I must tell you before we rejoin the others. Denis is a dangerous man to be associated with. I mean that in the full sense of the word.'

I took a deep breath. ‘I won't let you say another word against Denis,' I said. And then, betrayed by my curiosity: ‘What do you mean by dangerous?'

‘I'll tell you what I mean by dangerous if you'll hear me out,' Malcolm said. ‘I mean really hear me out.'

I hesitated, torn between loyalty and a desperate need to know what Malcolm knew about Denis. ‘All right,' I said finally. ‘I'll dance with you later on and you can tell me then. But only tell me facts. I don't want hints or silly innuendos.'

I was trembling when we got back to our table, the enormity of what had happened, and what had been said, striking home. Denis and Dorothy were on the dance floor, but Evelyn must have sensed that something had occurred and turned to me with a catty grin. ‘You look distinctly as though you've been dragged through a hedge backwards,' she drawled. ‘And your lipstick is smeared. Better go to the john and tidy yourself up before Denis gets back, or he'll know you've been a very naughty girl indeed.'

I didn't get up and go to the ladies, though I would have loved a moment of privacy to pull myself together. Instead, I took out my compact and tidied
up my lipstick, then dashed a broad-toothed comb through my hair.

Mac and Fiona came back from the floor, both looking flushed and happy. ‘By Jove, you and Malcolm danced well together,' Mac said enthusiastically. ‘I hope we are going to see some more.'

‘I may have trodden on her foot late in the proceedings,' Malcolm said drily. ‘But I was doing what I thought was the right thing.' He looked directly at me, but I turned my head away and ignored him.

I danced with Denis just before supper, and this time we danced beautifully together. As I clung to him I wished that I hadn't promised Malcolm that I would hear him out. All I wanted to do was to stay within the strong arms that enfolded me, and to go wherever they took me.

Even if it were into danger.

Supper was served on a broad, flagged terrace in front of the club, with balloons and coloured lights strung overhead and banks of cut flowers set between the tables. The band playing softly as we ate, and a huge full moon lit up the gardens around us.

Evelyn sauntered up to Denis and grinned at him like a cheeky schoolgirl. ‘Come for a walk with me,' she demanded, plucking at his sleeve. But Denis shook his head. ‘I don't know where you get your energy,' he said with a smile, ‘but some of us are human, I'm afraid. I've got a comfortable chair and a pretty girl on my arm, so I might stay put for a while.'

I leaned comfortably against Denis, not even bothering to feel triumphant.

There was more dancing after supper, and each time the music started Malcolm would look at me but I would ignore him. The last bracket of dances had been announced before I went out onto the floor with him, and I didn't waste any time.

‘I hope you're not going to use your position as a policeman to malign a rival,' I said. ‘I will despise you if you do. But I agreed to let you say what you want to say, so get cracking.' We were doing a slow waltz, and it was easy to talk.

‘You're a very forthright young lady,' Malcolm said. ‘I owe it to you to be equally frank. But these aren't the best circumstances. What I'm about to tell you is officially secret, and I don't want the risk of anyone overhearing.' He paused, as if thinking. ‘Look, do you expect Denis to . . . bother you in your room tonight?'

BOOK: In the Mouth of the Tiger
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