An Mei’s eyes strayed to the clock; measuring each miniscule movement of its hands as though her life depended on it. Perhaps it would speed up if she were to close her eyes, she thought. She squeezed her eyes tight; she willed the clock hands to move faster. “Hurry, hurry,” she whispered. Yet the minute hand lingered, making each little movement a reluctant jerk forward.
“Seven o’clock will arrive soon enough. No amount of blinking and mumbling will make it go faster,” teased Nelly. “Go and make yourself beautiful.”
She blushed. “No! I am just being silly, conjuring up a game I use to play as a child. I’ll go through this correspondence for you and then I’ll change out of my day clothes.”
“You will do no such thing. I am going and I will leave you to do what you need to do. I will take these with me. They can wait. You have worked like a demon ever since you came back from Oxford. You will be worn out soon if you are not careful.”
Nelly took the folder away from An Mei and walked to the door.
“Fawziah will see me out, and then I’ll send her back to you.” Impulsively, she turned and walked back to An Mei to give her a kiss. “Everything will be alright.”
“I hope so,” An Mei replied, but she was already lost in thought, reliving the day she returned to Kuala Lumpur. The memories of what happened flashed through her mind as they had done so often over the past few weeks in Kuala Lumpur waiting for Hussein to come back.
She had returned from Oxford without telling Hussein. She had taken the Kuala Lumpur airport limousine and driven straight from the airport to her in-law’s home in the capital. Stepping out of the car, she had made her way up the grand entrance to the foyer. She could still recall the sharp shaft of light shining down from the dome window that overlooked the foyer. It had lit up the whole expanse of marble, light reflecting light. Standing in the midst of this, were a group of people, their backs towards her. They had turned abruptly at the sound of her footsteps. Taken off-guard, they had stared at her. She could still recall clearly the surprise and shock in their faces. Her mother in-law Faridah had uttered just one sound, “Huh!” before she turned her back on An Mei and resumed talking; there was no acknowledgement that she had seen or knew her. Her father-in-law Rahim had not lifted even an eyebrow. He had looked through her. Only Shalimar had come forward, followed quickly by Hussein.
And only Shalimar greeted her. “Welcome back,” she had said, her face tinged red. She could not meet An Mei’s eyes.
An Mei rubbed her arm, involuntarily as she recalled how Hussein had grabbed hold of her, his fingers digging deep into her arms.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you leave without saying a word?” he had asked.
“Leave her alone. She has only just arrived home,” Shalimar had intervened on her behalf.
An Mei had shrugged off his hand, her anger boiling over. “Don’t you know why I went away? Do I have to spell it out for you? How unfair can you be to make out that it was me who left you?”
“Please do not quarrel. He is upset because he missed you.”
“And you! I trusted and befriended you and this is how you repay me. I want to have nothing to do with you,” An Mei had said to Shalimar. She could not, even in her anger, but notice how beautiful her rival was, dressed in a hand painted silk batik of gold, bronze leaves. Her heart contracted recalling how she must have looked in comparison, rumpled and hot after the long flight. Just like when she first came back with Hussein from Oxford.
But neither Shalimar nor Hussein had time to answer An Mei. Both had been summoned.
“Tell Hussein and Tengku Shalimar that we are waiting for them,” her mother-in-law had called out aloud to a servant. “We are late! We have to leave right away!” The family, making it known to all that she, An Mei, was the odd one out, unwanted, not part of the ‘we’.
An Mei sat motionless, deep in thought, after Nelly left, unaware that the door had opened and that she was not alone in the room.
Fawziah closed the door softly behind her, pressing against the door with both palms flat against it. She watched An Mei wipe her eyes furtively. She walked quickly towards her and knelt down sitting on her heels.
“Please Puan Noraidin, I have been sent by Puan Nelly to help you dress, to prepare for Encik, Master Hussein’s return. This is not the time for sadness. Don’t think back. I have told you all that I know and have found out. Encik Hussein and Tengku Shalimar are not living together as husband and wife. You have to believe in him,” she reminded An Mei.
“Yes, I have to believe and continue to try to win my in-laws over and in particular to retain my husband’s affection,” she said. But her heart sank at the enormity of the task. It was like confronting a tidal wave that threatened to rear up and crash down on her.
In the weeks following her return, she had seen little of Hussein. Rahim had commanded his son to leave the following morning to Kemun in order to continue his election campaign. They made it clear that An Mei was not to follow. “You will spoil all the progress he has made,” they had warned.
In the very short time she saw Hussein, he had explained everything to her. The maid attending Shalimar had supported his story. She also learnt from Fawziah how Hussein was carried, almost unconscious, to Shalimar’s room, the night he was supposed to have spent the night with her.
“He has not been unfaithful to me,” she had told Nelly. “They have forced him to take on a second wife, but I shall not give him up.”
Sitting in her room, she remembered her brave words. She looked at Fawziah, her only ally in this hostile house of her in-laws. She wondered if her brave words had not been foolhardy.
“He will be here soon,” said Fawziah. “Why don’t you bathe and I will do your hair. It will make you feel better, give you more confidence in yourself.”
He came alone. An Mei ran down the stairs and was on the landing when he bounded up the staircase, two steps at a time, to reach her side. He crushed her to him.
“Where are they?” she asked Hussein. “They did not come with you?” she asked again, full of disbelief. She smiled. “Is this real? Is it possible that we are alone?”
“Yes! My mother and father think it safe enough to just let Shalimar accompany me because they believe that we are in love. But I have left Shalimar with the nurse who brought her up,” he said. “And she is very happy with the arrangement.” He grinned, his brown eyes shone with mischief. “And I am to spend a whole week here. Can you bear it?”
“Bear it?” she asked, nestling into his arms.
Much later. She sat up in bed. Drawing her knees up, she pulled the bedclothes to her chin and turned to look at her husband. She reached out and traced a pattern over his cheeks and down to his neck. He caught her hand.
“I wish you could stay longer,” she said.
“Not this time. But when, if, I get the ministerial post, I will be able to spend more time with you in KL.”
“Have you considered that if you did not get the ministerial post, in fact if you were not involved in politics at all, you could stay in KL and find something else to do?”
He turned away. He raised his arm and placed his thumb and index finger, a miniscule distance apart.
“I am that close to achieving what I have always aspired to do. Would you deny me that?”
“Of course not!” she conceded.
He failed to notice the catch in her voice. He buried his face behind the small of her back. She could feel his sharp intake of breath. Her body responded.
“Shall I give up my job and come to Kemun to be with you?” she asked. She was drunk with recklessness and the emotion of the moment.
“Yes!” he said without a second’s hesitation as he pulled her to him.