Jim swung the car into the Raffles driveway that April afternoon and parked in the shade of the palm trees. He climbed out, adjusted his hat and took the steps in two strides. Upon reaching the entrance foyer, he quickly made his way to the bar, ordered two Singapore Slings and then carried them to Elsa Bristow’s office.
‘Tiffin time,’ he announced, kicking the door shut behind him.
‘You must have read my mind,’ said Elsa, turning from the now empty shelves with a smile. ‘My goodness, you look pleased with yourself today, Jim.’
‘That I am,’ he said, handing her the glass frosted with condensation. ‘Here’s to the Empress Aurelia and all who sail in her.’ He raised his glass and drank thirstily.
‘So, your ship has finally come in,’ she murmured. ‘I’m glad for you, Jim. When do you sail?’
‘Tomorrow on the early tide. We should be in England by the end of May, then it will take another half-day to get from Portsmouth to home – unless the trains haven’t improved since I left, and there are the usual hold-ups and delays.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’ve prepared so many times for this day, that I won’t actually believe I’m going home until I’m on the ship and sailing.’
‘Well, I’m glad for you, Jim. You’ve been away from home for too long. Here’s to a safe journey.’ She sipped her drink and then lit a cigarette. ‘I’m off at the end of the week too,’ she said as they settled on either side of the empty desk. ‘As you can see, my work here is all but done, and I’m missing my daughters.’
‘Won’t you miss Singapore?’
‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘I lived here for years when my husband was alive, but it’s changed, and with the unrest simmering between differing factions as the elections loom, it doesn’t feel like home any more. Besides,’ she added, ‘I much prefer the climate in Sydney. There are four seasons, and the humidity is much more bearable.’
‘It’ll be spring when I get back,’ Jim said, ‘but that’s no guarantee that the weather will be nice. My Peggy said they’ve had a wet winter, and it doesn’t look at all hopeful for a good spring or summer.’
‘Ah, the famous English weather everyone moans about,’ she said on a laugh. She shifted in her chair. ‘I don’t know why we’re sitting in here. Let’s go into the bar where it’s comfortable, and I can buy you a drink for a change.’
‘I’m sorry, Elsa, but I can’t stay long. Jumbo will be boarding his ship soon, and I wanted to say goodbye to him.’
Her disappointment was clear, but she quickly covered it up with a smile. ‘Oh, that is a pity, but of course, I quite understand. How come he isn’t on the same ship as you?’
‘He’s going straight to Scotland on the Stradivarius to prepare a proper home for Myfanwy on the Isle of Skye. She’ll return to Wales and stay with her family, and once he’s sorted out somewhere decent to live, he’ll go to fetch her and take her back there.’
He grinned. ‘I don’t think it’s hit him yet that being married involves a huge amount of organisation and cost if he wants to keep his wife happy.’
‘And what about you, Jim? What will you do when you get back?’
‘Well, I was working as a projectionist in the local cinema, but that was blown up, and by the sound of it, there are no plans to build a new one, so that idea’s out. Peggy tells me an old pal has started up a motor repair shop and is desperate to find a decent mechanic to help with the workload. But I’m not sure I want to do that.’
Elsa cocked her head and frowned. ‘Why ever not, if it’s something you’re good at?’
Jim was thoughtful for a moment, as this particular subject had been worrying him for some time. ‘I’ve learned a great deal about myself these past few years, especially during my time here in Singapore, and feel that I’m capable of doing much more than just mucking about with engines or selling second-hand cars. The plight of those men and women I interviewed has really struck a chord, and I’d like to find some way in which I could continue to help them.’
Elsa regarded him evenly. ‘From what I understand, there isn’t much help being offered by the governments for the Far East prisoners of war, or for their families. But if you really want to do some good, you should apply to the Royal British Legion. They’ve been helping servicemen and women since the previous war with all aspects of their repatriation. My husband was a staunch supporter of the work the Legion does, and I’m sure I could put in a good word for you.’
Jim shifted in his chair. ‘That’s kind of you, Elsa, but as the Legion is a charity, I’d still need to find a job that pays.’
‘Not necessarily,’ she replied briskly. ‘There are positions within the charity which pay a salary.’ She began to write on a slip of paper. ‘If you’re really serious about continuing your work with the prisoners of war, then this is the man you should get in touch with, and this is my Sydney address so you can keep me up to date.’
She handed him the slip of paper. ‘Write and tell him what you’ve been doing here and give my name as a reference – we’re old friends,’ she added with an enigmatic smile.
He felt the weight of indecision lift from him as he tucked the note safely in his top pocket and got to his feet. ‘I’ll certainly give it a go,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘Thanks for everything, Elsa. It’s been a pleasure knowing you. If you’re ever in England, you must come to visit. I think you and Peggy would get on well – you’re very alike.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Jim,’ she replied, shaking his hand warmly. ‘And thank you for all the hard work you’ve done for us here. You’ve shown great compassion and understanding, and it has been a pleasure to work with you – but I shall miss our daily tiffin.’
He winked at her and settled his hat over his head. ‘So shall I, Elsa. Have a safe journey home.’
Elsa sat back down and gave a wistful sigh as he closed the door behind him. Jim Reilly was not only handsome and charming company, but he’d brought colour and a delightful frisson of pleasure into her rather dull life – and in that one silly moment when he’d kissed her on the dance floor, she’d dared to hope it would lead to something more intimate.
She smiled at her foolishness and finished the drink. Jim might slip now and again, but she knew he would never really stray, for it was clear that Peggy was the light and love of his life. ‘Lucky, lucky woman,’ she murmured as she picked up her bag and headed for the bar.
Jim was also smiling as he left Raffles, for he knew Elsa would have liked to move things on between them, and it would have been awkward if she hadn’t been worldly enough to realise it would have spoilt the friendship they’d forged over the months they’d worked together.
He liked her very much, for she reminded him of his Peggy, both in looks and character, and could be just as fierce when thwarted. If he hadn’t been married to Peggy, then he might very well have taken things further, for he’d enjoyed kissing her that time. However, life was full of lovely women and it could get hazardous when his flirting was taken seriously and he had to talk his way out of difficult and often embarrassing situations.
He left Raffles for the last time, his hopes high that there really would be a position for him with the Legion, for it was work he knew he’d be good at, and at the same time he would gain enormous satisfaction from doing something worthwhile.
He drove back to the billet to find the place in chaos with men doing their last-minute packing and dashing in and out for one final drink or shopping expedition.
Jim ran up the stairs, hoping he wasn’t too late to catch his old pal Jumbo before he left. Going into the room they shared, he saw Jumbo, resplendent in his kilt, filling yet another suitcase with linens and bolts of material.
‘Good grief, Jumbo, you must have bought up the entire market,’ he exclaimed.
‘Well, I’ll need all this and more to make a proper home for Myfanwy, and everything is so much cheaper here than at home,’ he replied, tying a label to the handle.
‘Typical penny-pinching Scotsman,’ teased Jim, digging him in the ribs. ‘Why not parcel it all up and post it back?’
Jumbo looked at him in wide-eyed horror. ‘D’ye ken how much that would cost, Jim?’
Jim laughed. ‘I have a fair idea, as I’ve posted enough stuff back home to fill a ship.’ He slapped the other man’s shoulder. ‘Come on, you’ve time for a couple of beers before you have to leave for the port. I’m buying,’ he added with a wink.
‘Och, Jim, you go too far with your teasing. But I’ll happily drink with ye one last time.’
Jim helped him load everything into the back of the army truck which would take it all to the docks. There was a bustle of pent-up excitement in the air as the Scottish contingent prepared to leave, and Jim warmly shook their hands and wished them a good journey as he probably would never see them again.
Jumbo refused to let his precious bagpipes out of his sight, so he carried them under his arm as they set off for the bar on the corner. They settled at a small table in the dark little bar that was cooled by several large fans hanging from the low ceiling. They drank beer with whisky chasers; talked about the good and bad times they’d shared over the past few years; toasted the comrades who hadn’t made it back, and then discussed Jumbo’s plans for a house-warming party once he and Myfanwy were settled.
‘It’s a bit far for me and Peggy to get to,’ said Jim, downing his fourth whisky. ‘But I promise to look into the price of train tickets.’
‘Och, now who’s counting their pennies, eh, Jim?’ teased Jumbo. ‘You’ll have saved a fair whack of your wages and there’s your demob money to come – so don’t pretend you cannae afford it.’
‘If my Peggy’s done half the alterations to the house that she threatened to do, then I’ll have very little money left,’ Jim said gloomily before downing the cold beer in three large gulps.
Jumbo grinned, finished his beer and then reached for his bagpipes. ‘How about one last tune before we say goodbye?’
‘Aye, why not?’ said Jim, wondering what on earth the Indian owners of the bar would say to having that racket in this confined space.
Jumbo blew air into the bag and the pipes whined and screeched for a bit and then he began to play a lovely, lilting Scottish tune that was unfamiliar to Jim.
The enormous Scotsman got to his feet and went outside as the owners and other customers covered their ears. He stood on the street corner, the sound less intrusive in the open air, but stirring enough to stop passers-by and still the other Scots who were now clambering into a fleet of army trucks.
The tune came to an end and Jumbo hitched the bagpipes under one arm as he flung his other round Jim’s shoulders and squeezed him to his side. ‘For a Sassenach, you’re all right, Jim. It’s been an honour and a privilege to know you. Keep your powder dry, my friend, and have a safe journey home.’
‘I’ll see you again, you old rogue,’ replied Jim gruffly, ‘even if it does cost me an arm and a leg to get to you.’ He lightly punched Jumbo’s muscled belly, feeling foolish to be so emotional about this parting. ‘You’d better get a move on. The trucks are starting to leave.’
Jumbo grinned and strode off, kilt swinging, to clamber into the back of the last truck, showing off a good bit of hairy and very sturdy legs. As the truck pulled away, he saluted Jim before striking up a lively reel on his bagpipes.
Jim saluted back and stood in the street until the truck was out of sight and the sound of the bagpipes no longer drifted back to him. Turning away finally, he climbed back into the car to do one last circuit of the island before he had to return it to the motor pool.
Standing on the deck of the Empress Aurelia at sunrise on the next day, he leaned on the railings to say a last goodbye to the part of the world that had been his home and his hell for too many years. And yet there had been good times too, and he knew he had much to be grateful for.
He was the fittest he’d ever been, strong and healthy, his battle-scars merely fading reminders of how lucky he was when so many had not been as fortunate. And he’d surprised himself at his ability to do a job he’d never in a million years have applied for. It certainly boded well for the future, and the letter he’d posted last night to Elsa’s friend in the Legion was the first step, for he knew now that he was capable of so much more than being a grease monkey for the rest of his life.
As the deep bass of the ship’s hooter blasted out and they sailed through the Straits of Malacca, Jim said a final farewell to Jock and Philip and Amah – and all the men, women and children who would never return home.
He remained on deck in the blistering noonday heat until the coastline of Thailand was merely a blur on the distant horizon and the ship began to head into the Indian Ocean. He made his way to the bow, and as the troopship ploughed through that vast, glittering stretch of blue water his spirits soared.
‘I’m coming home, Peggy,’ he breathed. ‘At long last, I’m coming home.’