Twenty-Four

SANDILANDS DECIDED to try and telephone the palace before going over to the students’ quarters. If he got through and spoke to the Sultan he might have good news to give them.

To his surprise he got through without difficulty. He asked if he could speak to His Highness. He gave his name, and instead of being curtly dismissed was asked to wait. Had His Highness been expecting a call from him?

After five long minutes another voice spoke, this time in urbane English. It was one of the Sultan’s secretaries, educated at Oxford. ‘His Highness will speak to you now, Mr Sandilands.’

‘Thank you.’ Sandilands felt the bones of his skull grow tight with foreboding.

The Sultan sounded friendly but also sombre. ‘Good afternoon, Andrew. I do not think you are telephoning to arrange a game of golf.’

‘No, Your Highness. It’s about Leila.’

His Highness sighed. ‘Yes. Why did you not stop her? But I think you must have tried. I remember you yourself are not interested in politics.’

‘Yes, I tried.’ Sandilands’ voice trembled. ‘What is going to happen to her?’

‘That is not for me to say. That is for the courts. She and her misguided friends have broken the law. They knew what the consequences would be. They must pay the penalty.’

‘No one’s been seriously hurt, Your Highness.’

‘Blood has been shed. They are armed, these rebels. Why do they have guns? Is it to kill me?’

‘I don’t think that was ever their intention. They don’t want to kill anyone. They didn’t have guns to start with. They took them from the police.’

‘That in itself is a very serious crime.’

Sandilands could have said that they had been severely provoked, but instead he pleaded humbly. ‘If she was pardoned I would take her to Scotland with me. I promise she would never take part in politics again.’

‘How could she be pardoned and the others condemned? We both know her too well to think that she would accept that. You would not ask that they should all be pardoned? The State would be put in peril. I deeply regret this, Andrew. I shall always remember with great pleasure our games of golf. You will be returning to Scotland soon?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘That would be best. I have been told you may wish to take a Savu child with you, as your adopted daughter.’

‘If it is permitted.’

‘It will be permitted. All your rights will be safe-guarded. You will be treated generously. Believe me, my friend, I feel great sadness. But you will marry again and your wife will be the child’s mother.’

That surely was ominous.

‘So something good will have come out of this terrible business.’

Then he hung up.

Sandilands imagined the telephone, of gold, being put down by a hand that wasn’t steady. Nor had the Sultan’s voice at the end been steady.

With the telephone in his hand Sandilands dialled the number of Government House. He would make a last attempt to speak to Leila.

There was a response almost immediately. Were they standing by the telephone, waiting for an offer of amnesty?

‘This is Andrew Sandilands. I would like to speak to my wife.’

There was no nonsense this time about Madam Azaharri.

‘Please hold the line, Mr Sandilands.’

‘Thank you.’ Sandilands felt giddy, as if he was having a heart attack.

If she spoke to him would he be able to keep bitterness and self-pity out of his voice?

It was her voice. He felt a great pang of joy but also, seconds later, a greater pang of fear and grief. She chose to speak in Malay.

‘Hello, Andrew. I’m glad you telephoned. I didn’t say goodbye as I should.’

Why had she not telephoned him? He did not cast it up. He must not sound sorry for himself. ‘What’s happening, Leila?’

‘They have the building surrounded. We are all prepared to die.’

If they surrendered they would be hanged, if they resisted they would be shot.

‘What are you going to do about Mary? Where is she?’

‘She’s here with me.’

Mary was watching him from the door.

‘You will be going home to Scotland soon. Take her with you. Marry Miss Hislop. She is a good person. She will help you look after the child.’

‘I already have a wife.’

‘I was proud to be your wife, Andrew, but I should not have married you. Love is not always enough. I have brought you great unhappiness.’

‘You brought me great joy.’

‘Did I? For a little while? I hope so. Go home. Soon. Very soon. Don’t wait here.’

Don’t wait, she meant, until you hear that I am dead.

‘Goodbye, Andrew.’ She was weeping as she said that.

His telephone was silent.

He hadn’t the strength or the will to put it down. Mary came over and did it for him. She saw the tears in his eyes.

‘Were you speaking to Leila?’ she whispered.

‘Yes, I was speaking to Leila.’ He made an effort to smile. ‘She was asking about you.’

‘What was she saying about me?’

‘She said I was to take you to Scotland with me.’

She nodded. ‘Are we going soon?’

‘Very soon.’

But he could not leave Savu while he thought Leila might still be alive; at the same time he could not bear to wait until he knew for certain that she was dead.

There was nowhere for him to go, nothing for him to say, nothing for him to think. All he could do was endure.

Mary held his hand. She would endure with him.