The Red Thread (18 page)

‘In my case, I came under me own steam and tried my luck. I was fortunate, but for a very long time I was sometimes obliged to leave the building of my own designs to military types who knew nothing about building or architecture and often could not speak a word of the languages, nor knew the first thing about the men they supervised. Really, it was a quite ludicrous situation, one which left me continually obliged to carry out work on contract while lesser men got government posts.'

He took a deep drink of his dark Porter beer. She could see he had warmed to the subject, and she enjoyed sitting near him in this intimate manner. His voice and lilting Irish accent were musical to the ear.

‘Not to bore you too long. I shall finish by telling you how I became Superintendent of Works, finally, after so many years. Having carried out virtually all the major public works in the entire settlement, directing the convicts and opening up new land for development, I was summarily informed that my services were no longer needed and that a permanent position in the government would be given to a young officer of the regiment, Captain Lake. The designs of that gentleman for the jail and battery having been carried out, it was, dare I say to my great pleasure, discovered that the lower part of the jail was useless, for it overflowed with water at high tide, and the embrasures of the battery were blown away at the firing of the first salute.'

He grinned broadly, and Charlotte laughed with delight. He rose then, and in high good humour took her to join Robert and Baba Tan.

The baba was in a group of Chinese men, all merchants in the town. Although she was introduced to them all, she could immediately remember only one, Mr Whampoa. She had heard about him from Robert and Takouhi. His name had been taken from his father's company and birthplace near Canton. He had taken over control of this establishment on the old man's death. She had visited his large emporium on Boat Quay which provisioned the navy. It contained everything a ship could ever need, and behind this merchandise a Noah's Ark of goats, poultry, pigeons and parrots in cages. Whampoa was a rich man in the settlement and had just bought a failed and neglected coffee plantation in Serangoon Road. He spoke of his wish to live there and build a garden in the Chinese fashion. He was young and good-looking, with a queue of lustrous black hair which hung to his waist; she found him utterly charming. She was beginning to think she was becoming obsessed with Chinamen.

Whampoa spoke English very well, and when dinner was called, he accompanied her up the wide staircase to the dining hall.

The tables were set with brilliant white cloth, silver cutlery and candelabra, and French porcelain. Pure white napkins lay at each place, and at each, a dish of fancy breads.

Charlotte could not cease to wonder that just a very short distance from this table lay the impenetrable and tiger-infested jungle. Nor, indeed, could she help but wonder at the extraordinary variety of colour and race of the assembled company, clad in the costumes of so many lands, all at ease and enjoyment.

The dinner was a vast spread to suit any taste. Silver tureens contained mock turtle, mulligatawny, and spicy
laksa
soups, the latter a favourite of Coleman's. The fish course followed, with the delicate flavour of Penang sole and Malay
travelli
. This cleared, there followed joints of sweet Bengal mutton, Chinese capons, Keddah fowls and Sangora ducks, Yorkshire hams, Java potatoes and Malacca vegetables. The next course of rices—yellow, red and white—with spicy curry was accompanied by pungent
sambals
, Bombay ducks and salted turtle eggs, together with flat spicy breads and crispy Indian ones. Wines, brandy and pale ale were served by the quiet Indian manservants, who were dressed in the finest white calico with scarlet turbans and sashes.

Coleman had confided to Charlotte that these men were all convicted murderers.

‘Always take the murderers over the thieves, for they've no interest in me silver, and sure, they're not going to murder me over the dinner now, are they?'

Charlotte was not at all sure when he was joking.

Over champagne came speeches of mutual appreciation. The temenggong made a well-received Malay oration in his rich, deep voice. Governor Bonham stuttered his way through the reply with good humour. Tigran Manouk made a shy but clever speech and Coleman a witty reply, moving effortlessly between Malay and English.

Huge cheeses arrived, and jugs of pale ale. By now most of the guests were somewhat flushed and the level of noise had risen.

The cheeses soon removed, the servants carried in sago and tapioca puddings and silver platters overflowing with mangosteen, mango, pomelo, langsat, rose apple and plaintain. Finally the king of fruits appeared, preceded by its distinctive odour. Mr Whampoa, in high spirit, put a piece of creamy durian in his mouth and urged Charlotte to taste also. This she did with great reluctance and found it delicious. But the smell was not to be borne.

The durian was removed, the odour wafted away, and the dinner broke up. Takoui led the ladies downstairs into the garden for some fresh air. George accompanied the temenggong and his Chinese guests, who were taking their leave. Father Baudrel and Padre Lee also left, together with some older couples. Mr Whampoa had bowed to Charlotte before departing and invited her and Robert to ride one day out to his estate. She was sorry to see him go.

Dancing began with Count Papanti who, with a flourish, led Marie Balestier onto the floor, urging his fledgling students to do likewise.
Avanti
! Coleman threw off his coat and loosened his constricting cravat. He held out his hand first to Evangeline Barbie, who laughed and shook her head, passing his hand to Charlotte. Takouhi had not participated in the waltz lessons and now sat in conversation with Tigran, watching George and Charlotte whirling round the hall. Charlotte noticed that Robert had quickly chosen Miss Crane and felt sorry for her. Really this waltz was an intoxicating thing, and she felt keenly George's hand on her waist as he guided her expertly. She understood, all at once, the foundation of its wicked reputation. Why, a mere movement of his arm and she would be against his body. Crimoney, she thought, get a hold on yourself, Kitt!

When the first dance was over, Charlotte was quickly approached by John Connolly and Lieutenant William Gold of the Madras Regiment. Connolly was a slender Irishman of Coleman's age, with sharp features and a similar ready wit. Coleman and Connolly went hunting together on the outskirts of the town. Lieutenant Gold was an Englishman of good looks and, she thought, fine figure in his dress uniform. She knew they both danced well, for they had all practised together with Senor Papanti. However, as much as to keep these gentlemen waiting as out of solicitude, she selected young Joseph Balestier. To her surprise, he turned out to be an authoritative partner.

The dances had been proceeding for an hour. Gradually the guests departed, until only a few acquaintances remained. Robert and Charlotte, Billy Napier and Willy Lorrain, Reverend and Mrs White, Mr and Mrs da Silva and most of his family, and Captain Scott, who would stay the night. Connolly and Lieutenant Gold had also stayed and continued to engage Charlotte in conversation and urge her to more dances. Tigran Manouk had talked shyly to her in rather halting English but had declined to dance.

At eleven o'clock Coleman addressed the company, mopping his brow.

‘Ladies and gentlemen. We must release the band with our thanks. Refreshments will be served upstairs and, to save my poor feet, I believe Miss Manouk is to offer us a rare treat.'

They trooped upstairs. Chatting, they crossed the sitting and dining rooms. The lights were low. The frieze of Greek harps, shamrocks and Irish roses which dressed the high walls and door lintels stood out in relief in the shadowy glow. Breezes wafted around them from the lunettes at the ceiling of the double-roofed house, so cool and perfect for the tropical weather.

They moved to the verandah, where chairs and tables were scattered about. The
punkah
moved to and fro gently overhead. Drinks were served. Oil lamps and candles were on every table and all around the verandah, casting their flickering light into every corner. At one end of the verandah a group of richly-dressed Javanese musicians were seated on cushions on the floor. In front of them were metal plates strung between decorated wooden holders in various sizes: gongs and drums large and small. Odours of incense hung in the air, and flowers were strewn in and around the small orchestra. When everyone was seated, a beguiling rhythm began, the drums and gongs beating a low theme while the musicians began to strike the metal with soft round sticks, the clear metallic sounds like the stirring of a thousand bells, delicate, mystical. The flutes piped softly, and a man began to sing a haunting counter-melody in a soft, nasal voice. A hypnotic quality enveloped the listeners. From the house, three women stepped out barefoot and began a sensuous, alluring dance. Tied around their jewelled belts hung long, yellow, tasselled scarves. Elaborate gold earrings glowed dully in the light. Their eyes were heavy with black
kohl
and their lips a rich red.

They danced as one, small chained paces, slowly, slowly. Heads moved together in time with the hypnotic music of the orchestra. The jewels in their crowns flashed as they turned. Gems of light kissed the walls. The movement and the music became one, the dancers rising and sinking, turning and stopping to the order of the orchestra. Finally, gradually, the beat began to slow until with infinite slowness it came to a stop. The dancers sank to the floor.

Charlotte had never seen or heard anything so graceful and beguiling. Then Coleman rose and took Takouhi's hand, lifting her gently from the floor. He looked her in the face, and she smiled. He put her hand to his lips. Her guests rose, clapping. Takouhi and the other dancers turned to face the orchestra and, putting their hands together, bowed.

17

Qian and Zhen worked alternately at Incheck Sang's godown and Baba Tan's. They began to learn the way the merchants made their money.

The Chinese and Western merchants had an interesting interdependent relationship. Chinese merchants dominated the collection and first processing of the Straits produce brought by the Bugis fleets or by the
chinchews
—Chinese captains who sailed from port to port buying produce that local Chinese secured from the indigenous population. The captain who had brought them from China was involved in this
chinchew
trade with Sang while he waited for the monsoon winds to change.

This they then passed on to the Western merchants for final processing, grading and export. But these Westerners did not deal with the Chinese businesses directly; for this they needed the indispensable skills of the
compradores
, whose knowledge of the local markets and the trustworthiness of prospective Chinese clients was essential. The Peranakan community, with their language skills, their local contacts and the trust of the Englishmen, were the wealthiest
compradores
in Singapore.

The Straits produce received by Tan was in small, unsorted lots, so much of Zhen's day was spent combining and grading the produce for sale to the agency houses. He was amazed at its variety: cloves, mace, nutmeg and pepper, tortoise shell, sugar, gold, shells, bamboo, rattans, grains, ores and metals, beeswax, benjamin, betel nuts, bird's nests, camphor, cassia, coffee, coir, dragon's blood, gambier, indigo, coconut oil, sago, salt, sandalwood, tobacco and opium. Tan showed him how to look up the prices for these articles in the newspaper he had annotated in Chinese, and Zhen and Qian quickly became acquainted with the English names of these products; they learned too the words for ‘saleable', ‘in demand', ‘wanted', ‘overstock', the jargon of commerce.

Zhen knew Tan leased property throughout the settlement and had a fleet of five ships. Apart from the godown trading, Tan and Sang also had interests in the gambier and pepper plantations and nutmeg and sago production. They held licences for the opium and grog farms and the gambling dens. Sang was also involved in the prostitution business as headman of the
kongsi
.

After the working day ended they would meet on Boat Quay for a meal at one of the hawker stalls which sprang up as night began to fall.

The peculiarities of the Tan household were always a subject which came up. This locally born Chinese family with its Malay ways was odd beyond anything they had experienced. Neither Qian nor Zhen could understand anything that was said; they spoke a mangled Chinese language mixed up with Malay words. The old clerk in the shop helped translate and, when in doubt, they resorted to writing on a board characters which they could all understand. All except Tan, for, as they discovered, baba merchants like Tan could read virtually no Chinese.

They had, however, quickly understood who had the most influence with the
ang mo
bosses. Tan's godown welcomed English-speaking visitors daily. Tan had even thrown a dinner party for the foreigners in the town on the upper floor of his new godown, which had been designed for him by the foreign architect. It was incredible.

They both understood more clearly now the division of power between the baba Chinese and houses like Sang's. The influence Sang held rested on his vast fortune and his reputation in the settlement, his headship of the
kongsi
, while Tan's stemmed from his mastery of the language of the foreigners. He had the trust of the British through his ability to interpret this South Seas world for them. The foreigners were an ignorant lot, it seemed. They could not speak the language of the vast majority of the population. Keeping them in the dark was so easy it was laughable. Between them, the rich Chinese effectively controlled everything on this island.

One day Zhen and Qian had been told to go together to Baba Tan's large house in Market Street. They had stood waiting at the entrance for some time; then a servant had dismissed them back to their work.