The rain had finally stopped and the sun had broken through, making the wet road and sodden greenery steam in the rising heat of that early morning. The mosquitoes were out in force as were the flies, and Sybil was struggling to keep her temper as she alighted from the rickshaw and told the boy to wait for her.
She regarded the tiny sari shop the boy had recommended, which didn’t look too prepossessing, being squashed between a bank and a post office. She stepped inside to be greeted by the smiling but clearly puzzled owner. ‘I’d like to buy three saris,’ she said. ‘They are for a friend of mine and I’d like them to be very colourful as she’s not feeling well at the moment.’ Sybil realised she was babbling and fell silent.
‘We have many beautiful saris, memsahib,’ he replied with a bow. ‘May I ask the age and size of your friend?’
‘She is an elderly lady, very small and slight, and I would guess no more than five feet tall.’
An array of glorious silks in a rainbow of colours was brought out and unfurled for her to peruse, and Sybil eyed them all, unable to choose. They were so beautiful, so delicately woven, some edged with gold or silver, others bearing intricate hand-stitched designs. All the colours should have clashed, but strangely enough they didn’t, and Sybil eventually chose a lime silk striped with deep purple and edged with gold; a scarlet and silver one; and a midnight blue shot through with silver and turquoise. She selected the close-fitting short-sleeved tops to go with them as well as two pairs of sandals, and waited in the blissful coolness of the shop’s fans as the owner cut the lengths of silk and parcelled everything up.
Having paid him, she returned to the rickshaw and told the boy to take her to the food market. She was feeling much braver today, and determined to show Elsa that she wasn’t completely hopeless.
Once she’d completed her shopping the boy took her back to the bungalow, and as she stepped down from the rickshaw she saw Amah standing in the open doorway.
‘Amah,’ she said, hurrying to her. ‘I told you to stay in bed after your breakfast.’
‘I am rested well enough,’ she replied, taking the shopping from her. ‘Come. I will make you tea.’
Sybil followed her into the kitchen, suddenly worried that the proud, elderly woman might be offended by her gifts and see them as charity. ‘I have bought you some presents, Amah. I do hope you’ll like them.’
She turned from the stove, her eyes widening. ‘For me, Mem? But it is not my birthday, and I have done nothing to earn them.’
Sybil thought quickly. ‘I thought that as we’ve missed so many birthdays and Christmases recently, we should catch up on the gifts Jock and I would have given you,’ she said, handing over the parcel. ‘Welcome home, Amah,’ she said softly.
The thin fingers fumbled with the string, and the brown paper was slowly drawn back to reveal the saris, sandals and tops ‘Oh, Mem,’ she breathed, reaching almost reverently to touch the silks. ‘They are beautiful.’
There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at Sybil. ‘Thank you, Mem. You are too good to an old woman like me. I do not deserve such things.’
‘Well, I think you do, so go and try everything on while I make the tea,’ said Sybil. ‘The girls are coming today, and we must both look our best when we go to the docks to meet them.’
The tea was made and Sybil had just taken it into the sitting room and sat down when Amah appeared shyly in the doorway. ‘Oh, Amah, you look lovely,’ she sighed, taking in the scarlet and silver sari, the matching top and delicate sandals.
‘I look like old woman in beautiful sari,’ she replied with a wry smile. ‘But I do feel like Amah again.’ She placed her palms together and bowed. ‘Thank you for giving me my dignity back,’ she murmured. ‘Buddha will give you many blessings for your kindness.’
‘Come and have your tea before it gets cold,’ said Sybil, moved almost to tears by the woman’s words.
‘I will take mine in the kitchen, Mem. There is food to prepare for when my girls come home.’
‘Oh, but …’
‘Mem, I am here to serve you. Please allow me to do my duty.’
Sybil realised that now Amah had found her pride again, she needed to return to the old ways she found comfortable and familiar, and that she had been in danger of overstepping the mark. She nodded and watched her leave the room, the sari drifting around her.
Jim had spent the day taking statements from some of the women who’d been held in prison camps since the fall of Singapore. Unlike the men, they were eager to tell their stories, to purge themselves of the horrors they’d withstood so they could regain some sense of self-esteem. As they poured out all the wrongs that had been inflicted upon them, Jim became aware of the profound anger they all possessed for their Japanese captors, and also that the same names came up time and again.
Jim had discovered early on that the men and women who’d been prisoners had lost their confidence and self-belief, and this was particularly true of the men, who felt shame at being captured when others had actively served their country by bringing the war to an end. They were mostly reluctant to talk of their experiences, but those who did haltingly revealed the depths of misery and brutality that had been inflicted upon them.
Not all the torture had been physical. There were accounts of punishments aimed at killing off the last spark of hope in men already desperate for some small sign of humanity and that they had not been forgotten by their loved ones. The cruellest had been to burn three sacks of letters from home in front of them in retaliation for an escape attempt. That had almost broken the man relating that story, and Jim had left the respite camp with a heavy heart and a bitter taste in his mouth.
For the women it had been an ongoing and desperate struggle to keep their children alive, and with each burial their spirits had dwindled. Subsisting on a diet of mouldy rice soup, they were weakened further by hard labour, malaria, dysentery, jungle sores and ulcers, and the nurses and doctors amongst them raged to Jim about the lack of medicines and the simplest things such as calcium tablets, suture needles and thread, or clean bandages.
When they’d been liberated, it was to discover that the locked storehouse was packed solid with medical supplies and Red Cross parcels filled with powdered baby milk and tinned food, the like of which they hadn’t seen for four long years, and which could have saved so many lives. Their rage was bitter and profound, their stories repeated over and over as yet more women were brought in from the far-flung prison camps.
Jim had enough evidence to ensure that the men guilty of these heinous crimes would be executed – although most of the women had demanded to be left alone with them for five minutes so they could dish out their own punishment. He couldn’t blame them, for they’d lost far more than any person could withstand.
He felt drained by the harrowing stories, and knew they’d live with him long after the prisoners had been repatriated. And yet he’d come to realise, much to his surprise, that he was doing a worthwhile job that was making a difference. That he had an empathy with those men and women and the ability to listen and carefully absorb what they told him without letting his emotions get the better of him. They didn’t ask for sympathy, but needed to be believed and assured that the guilty would be punished – and he was the man in a position to do that.
He bundled up the latest statements and headed for the bar. He’d railed against doing this task, but Elsa Bristow must have recognised something in him that he hadn’t known he’d possessed, for he seemed to have a natural ability to put people at their ease so they found it comfortable to talk to him. And in a strange sort of way, he felt rather proud to be doing such an important job.
Suspecting that Elsa had again gone without lunch, he ordered sandwiches and a pot of tea for her, and a long glass of cold beer for himself, then followed the waiter to the office. Tiffin, as Elsa called it, had become something of a ritual at the end of each day, and they both enjoyed it.
Elsa took off her glasses, pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and smiled up at him. ‘You must have read my mind,’ she said as the waiter left the room. She glanced at her watch. ‘Gosh, is it that time already? How time flies.’
Jim placed the folders on her desk and took a long drink of his beer. ‘I can’t stay long this evening, Elsa,’ he said, watching her tuck hungrily into the sandwiches. ‘I promised Sybil I’d take her down to meet her daughters.’
‘Sybil’s perfectly capable of hailing a rickshaw,’ said Elsa. ‘You shouldn’t let her run rings around you, Jim. You’re too soft, that’s your trouble.’
‘Aye,’ he replied. ‘I probably am, but Peggy would never forgive me if I didn’t look after her and the girls.’ He took another drink of the Indian Pale Ale and waited for her to finish eating before lighting their cigarettes. ‘Anything concrete on those rumours yet?’
She shook her head. ‘Communication between here and the search teams is very hit-and-miss, but I was told this afternoon that the first planeload of men will be arriving sometime tomorrow.’
She sat forward in her chair. ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Sybil,’ she warned. ‘I let slip about the rumours last night, and if she knows the men are beginning to come in, she’ll be here badgering me endlessly and getting in the way.’
‘She’s bound to hear about it, Elsa,’ said Jim. ‘And you can’t blame her for looking to us for answers.’
Elsa gave a weary sigh. ‘I don’t blame her, Jim. Of course I don’t. I just wish she’d find something sensible to do other than fussing over her old amah.’
‘Perhaps once the girls are here they’ll persuade her to find something,’ said Jim. ‘Sarah’s a very practical girl, and from Peggy’s letters I understand that Jane is too.’
‘Mmmm. Sarah used to work in her father’s office, so she could be a tremendous help here – but Jane was always treated like a child by Sybil and Jock, and behaved as such. I doubt she’d be of much use.’
Jim finished his beer. ‘You might be surprised,’ he said. ‘According to Peggy, she held down a very important secret post with some government office during the war, and is quite the sophisticated young woman now.’
Elsa raised an eyebrow. ‘That I shall believe when I see it,’ she said briskly. She finished her cup of tea and reached for a file. ‘You’d better get a move on. The flying boat’s due in at seven.’
Jim left the office and eased his way through a large, chattering group of children who ranged in age from seven to fifteen. These were the youngsters who’d lost their mothers, and sometimes siblings, in the camps, and were now waiting to be escorted to the ship which would take them to England and the surviving members of their families.
He stood outside in the warm, rather muggy twilight and watched them boarding the bus. He knew that some of them were orphans now, for their fathers had also been killed during the war, and he wondered fleetingly how they would cope in England after all they’d been through. He suspected there would be great difficulties ahead for them and their families, but at least they were being given a second chance at life.
Seeing the younger ones clamber aboard the bus, he had a sharp memory of his own boys at that age, and thanked God they’d never had to experience the same terrifying war that these youngsters had gone through.
The bus trundled off and Jim returned the children’s waves until they were taken out of sight. Then he fetched the car he’d been allotted and headed for Elsa’s bungalow.
Sybil was waiting impatiently for him, dressed in a pale cream silk suit, high-heeled shoes and fancy hat. Her make-up was immaculate, her hair dressed in a neat pleat at the back of her head, but the worry and stress of these last few days were evident in the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,’ she said.
‘I promised I would,’ he replied, smiling down at the tiny Malay woman at her side. She certainly looked worlds better than she had when he’d first seen her outside Raffles, having been banned entry. ‘Delighted to meet you again,’ he said, not sure what to call her. ‘Are you coming with us?’
‘Well, of course she is,’ said Sybil impatiently. ‘Amah has looked after my girls almost from the moment they were born.’ She closed the front door, steadied the elderly woman down the shallow steps and headed for the car. ‘Amah will sit in the back,’ she said, climbing into the front.
Jim raised an eyebrow but the Malay woman seemed unfazed as he held the door open for her to climb in. Making sure her beautiful sari hadn’t been caught in the door, he slammed it shut and then climbed in behind the steering wheel.
As he drove away from the bungalow and headed for Singapore Harbour, he remembered the last time he’d seen Jane and Sarah. It was while he was home on leave before he’d been posted to India. However, he’d been so preoccupied with Peggy, baby Daisy, and the others who’d come from Somerset on a short visit, that he’d barely taken notice of anyone else.
He dragged his thoughts back to the present. ‘I expect you’re excited to be seeing them after so long,’ he said to Sybil.
‘Four years is a long time to be so far apart,’ she replied. ‘We’ve had very different wars, of course, and I expect we’ve all changed. But they’re still my daughters, and that bond can never be broken.’
‘You must be missing your little boy,’ he murmured as they approached the harbour.
‘Yes, I am. But this is no place for him, and he’s perfectly safe with his grandparents. Perhaps if Jock and Philip come through I’ll telegraph my parents and ask them to bring him over. He’ll need to get to know his father and sisters.’
Without replying, Jim drove through the entrance gate and headed for the flying-boat docking station. He parked the car and went round to help the women out. ‘We’re still a little early,’ he said. ‘I’ll just go and check with the harbour master that they’re on time.’
Sybil eyed the huge harbour with interest. There were numerous ships at anchor waiting for permission to dock, and the navy was clearly still out in force, guarding the island. ‘It’s all very different to the last time we were here, isn’t it, Amah?’
The tiny woman nodded. ‘I will always remember you being carried onto that ship with James in your arms, and the enemy planes coming in with their guns spitting death.’ She shivered despite the warmth of the evening and pulled her shawl more closely over her shoulders. ‘I was so afraid for you, and for the sahib.’
‘I always wondered why you didn’t wait with him instead of disappearing into the crowd like that,’ said Sybil.
‘He had important things to do,’ she said. ‘I would have been a burden.’
Sybil’s reply was halted by Jim’s return. ‘It’s on schedule to arrive in ten minutes. Would you prefer to sit in the car to wait?’
Sybil shook her head. ‘I want to be right here where they can see me as they disembark. But perhaps it would be best if Amah sat down. She’s not as strong as she once was.’
‘I will stay with Mem,’ she said to Jim’s questioning glance.
Jim stood there, not sure of what to say to either woman. He was intrigued by the little Malay woman and the relationship between her and Sybil, and wondered if Amah actually had a proper name. He couldn’t imagine being called by his job description all his life.
‘There it is,’ said Sybil some minutes later, excitedly pointing to the twin lights rapidly approaching the water, and then taking Amah’s hand. ‘Oh my goodness, I can hardly believe they’re really here,’ she breathed.
The large seaplane came in low over the water, making for the path set out with floating buoys that would keep them a safe distance from the rest of the shipping. The roar of the engines was loud and made further conversation impossible, and they all watched as the floats glided onto the water, sending up a fountain of spray on either side.
Jim was reminded of the Sutherland seaplanes that had delivered men, medical equipment, stores and machinery to remote rivers and waterways throughout Burma. The pilots had shown great bravery in landing in a war zone. Many of them hadn’t made it, and he wondered fleetingly if this pilot had seen action.
The seaplane cruised to the dock and as the engines died, the propellers slowed to a stop, and the pilot climbed out with his navigator to shake the hands of his passengers who were now emerging down the steps and onto the quay.
‘Sarah! Jane!’ called Sybil, breaking into an awkward run along the pier towards them, her high heels in danger of sinking into the cracks between the planks.
‘Mother!’ the girls shrieked back in unison before scrambling out of the orderly line and running towards her. They crushed her to them, kissing her cheeks, knocking her hat askew and all of them talking at once in their excitement.
‘It’s so wonderful to see you again,’ said Sarah. ‘Did you bring James?’
‘You haven’t changed a bit, Mummy,’ breathed Jane. ‘You’re still as gorgeous as ever. Have you any news of Pops or Philip? Where are you staying? And have you bumped into Jim Reilly yet?’
Sybil laughed, straightened her hat and then cupped her precious girls’ faces in her hands. ‘I’ve left James in Australia with Granny and Grandpa. There’s no news of your father, or of Philip, and yes, I’ve met Jim. But I have a wonderful surprise for you both. Look who’s here.’ She stepped back and gently drew Amah forward.
Both girls gasped, clearly shocked by her appearance despite the new clothes.
Jane was the first to break the silence. ‘Oh, Amah,’ she said with tears in her eyes as she carefully embraced her. ‘I’m so glad you’re all right.’
‘So am I,’ said Sarah, hugging her in turn. ‘We were so grateful to you for risking your life to send Mother the note about Pops and Philip. There really aren’t words enough to express how much that meant to us.’
‘To see you both looking so well is all the thanks I need,’ said Amah, taking their hands to kiss them. ‘My goodness, you are grown into fine young women – and is that an engagement ring on your finger, Jane?’
‘Indeed it is,’ she replied, ignoring her mother’s sharp gaze. ‘Jeremy asked me to marry him just before we left England. But I’ll tell you all about him later.’
She looked away from Amah and grinned at Jim who was standing awkwardly a few feet away. ‘Hello, Jim. My word, we’re all a long way from Cliffehaven, aren’t we?’
He took off his peaked uniform cap, stuffed it under his arm and shook her hand, not really knowing how to greet this self-composed young woman who bore little resemblance to the Jane he remembered.
‘We certainly are,’ he replied. ‘How is the old place? Still standing?’
‘It’s a bit battered, but your Peggy has lots of plans to make it look better for when you get back,’ she said, digging into her bag. ‘I’ve got a stack of letters for you.’
She handed them over and then turned to Sybil who was looking most put out. ‘There’s a few for you too, Mother. Jeremy thought it was only right to ask you formally for my hand, and the others are from Peggy and Cordelia.’
‘Who is this Jeremy? You’ve said very little about him in your letters.’
‘We’ll talk about everything once we’ve done the customs check and collected our luggage,’ said Sarah, giving Jim a grin. ‘Good to see you, Jim. The army and the climate have clearly suited you. Peggy will positively faint when she sees you looking so handsome in that uniform.’
Jim actually blushed beneath his tan and was thankful that the girls didn’t notice as they hurried off towards the customs shed. He glanced at Amah and saw she was trembling, either from her emotions or because she’d been standing without support for too long.
‘I’ll take Amah back to the car and bring it closer to load up the bags,’ he murmured.
Sybil was still fidgeting by the customs house as he drew the car up outside. ‘Who is this Jeremy person?’ she demanded the moment he’d alighted. ‘Jane’s been very secretive about him, and I’m not at all sure I approve of her getting engaged without her father’s permission.’
‘I’ve never met him,’ Jim stuttered, rather reeling from her attack. ‘But Peggy wrote that he’s a very pleasant young man with exciting prospects in Washington.’
Sybil eyed him askance. ‘Washington? As in America?’
‘I believe so.’
Sybil’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s not an American, is he? Jane hasn’t had her head turned by some Yank on the make?’
‘I seem to remember that his mother is French and his father is English,’ said Jim, somewhat rattled by her continual questions.
‘Well, it’s simply not good enough,’ snapped Sybil. ‘Jane’s too young and can’t possibly know her mind well enough to be getting engaged.’
Jim didn’t like her tone and decided to defend Jane. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Mrs Fuller, but wasn’t Sarah engaged to Philip at the same age?’
‘That was different,’ she replied waspishly. ‘Sarah’s sensible. She knows the seriousness of getting engaged – and she had our approval.’
Jim had no answer to this and was relieved to see the girls coming out of the customs shed with a porter carrying their cases. He hurried away to stow the cases in the boot of the car and tip the porter.
‘I get the feeling Mother doesn’t approve of my engagement,’ muttered Jane, lingering at his side.
‘You could have your work cut out to convince her otherwise,’ murmured Jim, slamming the boot shut. ‘Give her time, Jane. She’ll come round, I’m sure.’
Sarah and Jane climbed into the back of the car on either side of Amah and held her hands during the journey back to the bungalow.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Sarah as he parked at the kerb. ‘It’s the Bristows’ bungalow.’
‘Elsa has very kindly let us move in with her until we know for certain what has happened to Jock and Philip,’ said Sybil stiffly. ‘Reggie died in Changi prison, but she’s stayed on here to work for RAPWI.’ She climbed out of the car and, without waiting for the others, marched up the path and went in through the front door.
‘She’s definitely on the warpath,’ said Sarah on a sigh, helping Amah out of the car. ‘So much for our homecoming.’
‘Mem has many fears and worries,’ said Amah. ‘This is not a good place for her and the waiting is long to hear anything of the sahibs.’
‘I’m sure it’s all very worrying,’ said Jane. ‘But that’s no excuse for being so sharp about my engagement.’
Amah reached up and lightly touched Jane’s face with her fingers. ‘There has been great trouble for all of us, and perhaps it is better if you let Mem speak what is in her heart. You do not have to agree, but it would be better to keep your thoughts inside.’
‘Oh, Amah, I have missed you so,’ breathed Jane, giving her a gentle hug. ‘I will try, I promise. But I have to stand up to her. I’m not a child any more.’
‘And I too have missed you both. Now come. I have made special dinner to welcome you back to Singapore.’
Jim left them to it and drove to his billet, rather wishing he could be a fly on the wall during the conversation Sybil would no doubt have with her younger daughter. He smiled wryly as he parked the car outside the Palm Hotel. Jane had matured and come a long way since she’d arrived at Beach View, and he had the feeling that Sybil would not find it quite so easy to get her own way with her now.