The Red Thread (17 page)

Directly in front of the altar on a large chair sat the headman of the lodge. He was ancient, almost corpse-like, yet dressed in his red and black robes, with the paraphernalia of office spread around him in this place full of incense and opium smoke, he had a strange power. His eyes glittered. On his right and left stood his officers and eight men with drawn swords.

Chanting, the master of ceremonies sanctified the grounds and the items on the altar, beckoning the spirits to bear witness. The initiates were ordered to kneel with their right arms and shoulders bare and the bottoms of their left trouser legs rolled, a symbol of the union of man, heaven and earth.

Elaborate role-playing began, as the master and the first vanguard re-enacted the lives of the heroic founders of the Tian Di Hui in China. At length, the newcomers were each handed lit joss sticks and ushered by the vanguard through the Hung Gate, where they were met by the master of ceremonies. Next they were led through a series of questions and answers. They swore they had no living parents; they had come to swear eternal brotherhood. Twelve oaths were read to them. One by one they vowed never to divulge the secrets of the society and extinguished their joss sticks in a bowl of water. Their place in the society was explained to them, and they were introduced to the leaders of Ghee Hin Kongsi, the most powerful branch of the Tian Di Hui in Si Lat Po.

Zhen recognised Master Liang, next to the headman. As his turn came to bow before them, Liang bent and whispered something into the headman's ear. He peered carefully at Zhen and Qian but made no other sign.

The next stage of the ceremony followed: as they passed through the next gate into the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, guards tapped them on their backs with large flat knives. More icons of the Hui were on display here. Twelve more oaths were taken. Qian's head was swimming, and he was having difficulty taking everything in. Zhen said nothing but looked straight ahead. Finally, they passed into the third hall, the City of Willows, symbolic of the Heavenly City, where twelve more oaths were sworn. They had completed the thirty-six oaths.

Only the Red Flower Pavilion which housed the tablets of the five founders of the Tian Di Hui awaited them. One by one they crossed the ditch which formed the inner perimeter. The Red Flower Pavilion was situated outside the ceremonial temples and symbolised their passage from life to death and rebirth into the society.

An official holding an open umbrella over his right shoulder stood at the entrance. One at a time, the initiates knelt before the altar of the five ancestors. A masked man brought in a white-and-brown cockerel and swiftly cut off its head, draining the blood into a bowl mixed with sugar and rice wine. Each of the initiates had his middle finger pricked and the blood mixed with this concoction. Drinking from the bowl, they swore the blood oath. Taking a large, flat knife, each laid it on the dead body of the cockerel and swore again the vow of secrecy under pain of punishment and death. Qian was beginning to feel sick and feared he might vomit. His head was full of fumes.

Finally each man, his face smeared with blood, was given a set of rules. Qian felt a desire to giggle crazily as they lined up to have their names entered in the log. It was as if he was back in some mad jungle version of the schoolhouse in his village. When he took hold of the membership certificate and saw attached to it a chit for membership fees, he began to laugh hysterically. Zhen grabbed him and hurried away. Then, suddenly, a long low sound was blown on a bamboo tube, and the ceremony was over.

When Zhen and Qian joined the others in washing their faces and drinking at the water tub, it was past midnight. In the ceremonial halls, the noise had risen, as gambling and drinking had begun again. Many of the initiates had gone to join their new brothers. Zhen and Qian made their way back to the first hall. As they entered, a guard spoke to them and took them to Master Liang.

They again bowed low before the headman. Sang stared at the two young men. One was small and thin; the other was strong and tall, handsome and confident, a man who would please women. He was not sure whether this was what he needed in his house. His first son-in-law had been handsome and charming, and his daughter had been very happy, but not for long. The man had turned out to be a thief and a scoundrel. Perhaps Ah Liang was right: better to go with the smaller one who had a good head for accounts. Well, he would decide later.

‘I have heard that you are useful, can read and write. You will both come tomorrow into town. One of my men will fetch you from the opium farm,' he said then dismissed them.

16

The band of the Madras Native Regiment was playing in the garden as Robert and Charlotte drew up on the gravel at G.D.'s house. The garden flickered with flames from torches, and the house glowed with the brilliance of Argand lamps.

Robert helped Charlotte from the carriage. He had to admit that his sister looked resplendent tonight. Her new dress cut low across the shoulders was a violet satin which shimmered in the light. White lace loosely framed the lower sleeve. The deep V of the waist emphasised her slenderness. Her hair, for want of expert hands, she had simply rolled up into a chignon and pinned. In any case, she preferred this to the current fashion for ringlets.

The shutters to the whole house were thrown open. The creamy flowers of a great
tembusu
tree gave off their sweet fragrance, and a perfumed breeze wafted over the guests. The sound of the band drifted in and around. Takouhi and George were waiting in the lower hall, greeting their guests. With them was their daughter, Meda. Holding her hand was a pleasant-looking plump man of tallish height, with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. This was Tigran, Takouhi's half-brother. Takouhi's dress was a simple, pale green Chinese silk. She did not like the wide skirts of the European ladies, and her silhouette was less voluminous. The close-fitting bodice was green damask. Her hair was tied up in an elaborate manner. Around her neck lay a superb diamond-and-emerald necklace, and she wore long, matching earrings. George was dressed, for once, in European dress: snow-white trousers, waistcoat and a black topcoat. He looked uncomfortable. To Charlotte's enquiries he simply said,

‘Takouhi's doing. This clothing is damned hot. While she looks as cool as a waterfall, I feel like I'm about to ignite. By the saints, it's a good job 'tis not often.'

Meda Elizabeth stood by her father's side shyly. She was also dressed charmingly in European fashion, in the same green as her mother, her shiny brown hair in ringlets. She was eleven, and she looked like her mother in every respect except in her fairness of skin and her eyes, which were Coleman's down to the exact shade of hazel–green. She went to school with Mrs Whittle and some of the other young girls. When she spoke in English, she had no trace of her father's accent. With her mother she spoke Javanese and sometimes Malay.

Tigran Manouk spoke softly in Dutch-accented English. For such a powerful and wealthy man he gave off an air of shy diffidence and seemed uncomfortable, particularly with women. She had learned from Takouhi that he was not yet married, although he was now over thirty years of age. Their father had been a difficult and demanding man. After the death of Takouhi's mother he had married the Javanese–Armenian widow of a Dutch colleague. She had been a kind woman and cared for Takouhi, but her frequent miscarriages and illness meant that Takouhi had been raised by her Javanese maidservants. Tigran had been born when Takhoui was fifteen years old. Meeting George had changed her life, and she had been overjoyed to leave Batavia, although not her brother. To Charlotte, Takouhi seemed ageless, and tonight she was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in the room.

Excited voices caused Charlotte to turn, and she was greeted effusively by Isabel and Isobel da Silva. They, too, looked charming tonight, both in pale blue. They led her to meet their father and mother, who were surrounded by almost their entire family. To Charlotte, this group formed the very picture of life in the South Seas, representing seemingly every possible combination of East and West in hue, shape and dimension.

Charlotte curtsied very low to the governor, who smiled widely. The munshi stood by his side, together with a stately-looking man. She was surprised to realise that this was the temenggong who, at some thirty years of age, was the effective Malay leader in the settlement. He said very little and did not smile. Two fierce-looking men never left his side. They were all dressed magnificently in silk
sarongs
and embroidered jackets. Around the temenggong's head wound, in a fabulous manner, a pale green cloth which shimmered with gold thread.

With them stood two Arab men and, to her great surprise, a small, plump woman dressed in a richly brocaded long skirt and jacket. At her side was a very handsome man, dressed Bugis-style and with earrings in both ears. These people, Lieutenant Sharpe told Charlotte, were four of the richest merchants in Kampong Glam. The woman was Hajie Fatimah; the Bugis prince was her husband. Between them they dominated the shipping that carried thousands of devout Muslims to the Haj in Mecca; they also owned a great deal of land around the sultan's palace. Charlotte was slightly awed by the sense of confidence which Fatimah exuded and her husband's romantic appearance.

Next Mrs Keaseberry took Charlotte to meet Mr Balestier, the American consul, and his wife, Marie. With them was their son, Joseph, a rather gauche young man, but of a pleasant nature. The captains of two American opium clippers in harbour were also present. They rarely saw attractive English ladies and were delighted to meet her. Charlotte, in turn, enjoyed their easy manner and the slow drawl of their accents.

She recalled a conversation with the munshi about his first meeting with Americans: how he had imagined them strangely exotic and found them surprisingly like Englishmen but for their pioneer history.

Charlotte and Robert moved around the different groups in the room; the Europeans and Armenians gathered in conversation near the cool air of the balcony. Charlotte went up to Miss Aratoun, met her parents and renewed her acquaintance, though throughout her conversation none of the family seemed to take their eyes of their hostess or her brother. When Tigran came up, Lilian's mother quickly turned her attention to him, almost pushing Charlotte to one side. Charlotte smiled and left to join Robert in conversation with George.

Mr Coleman was talking to Nanda Pillai and Dr Montgomerie, who was expounding on his favourite topic, the uses and properties of
gutta percha
. He was convinced that this remarkable product could be of use in surgical instruments. He had ascertained that it came from the sap of the
naito
tree, which was plentiful in Sarawak. Mr Coleman was sympathising joshingly with the general indifference to these discoveries in both Calcutta and London. Mr Pillai, George's indispensable contractor, wondered in a gracious and charming manner whether there might be uses for such a product in the building trade. When Mr Mayhew, the secretary to the court, came up to the group, Robert left abruptly, almost rudely, taking Charlotte with him to get some refreshments.

Charlotte had noticed the bad feeling between her brother and Mayhew on several occasions when they were thrown together, but did not understand what lay at the bottom of it. When George sauntered over a few minutes later, she asked him directly. Robert, looking annoyed, left to talk to his two European policemen. It was a subject which irritated him still.

George took Charlotte gently by the arm and led her to a sofa.

‘Well, let's see if I can explain it to you simply,' he told her. ‘Mayhew is an employee of the East India Company, which, as you know, governs the affairs in India and in the Straits Settlements. He's what's called “covenanted”. When the company lost their trade monopoly, they became extremely jealous of their governmental monopoly. All position, honour and emoluments are held as solely and wholly belonging to those in the service of the company. Men, you see, who are appointed at India House in Leadenhall Street. I'm afraid that Mayhew is an example of the weaknesses which a monopoly of power and honour fosters in human nature. Secure in their fortunes and pensions and drawn from a limited sphere, such men as Mayhew have no real spur to urge them to exertion or even thorough attention to their duties. Are you with me so far, Charlotte?'

Charlotte nodded and quietly said, ‘Mr Coleman, would you please call me Kitt, for all my friends do.'

Coleman looked her directly in the eyes and bowed slightly. He really was a devilishly attractive man, but she did not, on this occasion, lower her eyes. He smiled slightly.

‘Well, Kitt. Then you must please call me George or G.D., whatever you like. I seem to have turned out to be G.D. with the men and George to the women. But I don't mind either.'

They smiled at each other.

‘The story continues, for now we come to someone like Robert and even myself. Theoretically, in order to work in Singapore, we should have had the permission of the East India Company. However, they have tended not to bother with that particular rule for some time. So here we came anyway, cumbersomely branded as uncovenanted, and hence unhonoured and badly paid men. Mayhew took Robert's appointment very badly, for he felt the post should have gone to a company man. As it is, your brother is paid one quarter of the salary of the lowest official appointed at India House and half of what would have been offered to a military cadet. On top of it all, though he does all the work, he may only be titled
Deputy
Superintendent of Police, for none of the company men want the precedent of an interloper being created a full superintendent. Do yer follow?'

Charlotte nodded. She was beginning to understand some of the undercurrents she had felt on occasion, particularly on the plain when walking of an evening. Here, where it was common for the town to turn out to enjoy the sea breezes and gossip, she had noticed coolness and snubbings among certain individuals. Mayhew in particular never even looked at Robert or her.