Ronnie finished a game of fives with Charlie Singer, a bookkeeper for Armstrong, Crane and Company, at the new court that had been built beside the courthouse. This was largely due to the efforts of Dr Montgomerie, who praised the game as the best form of early morning exercise in a tropical climate, and who had managed to raise the money by persistently nagging merchants like Ronnie.
Yet Ronnie had to admit that he enjoyed the game, which was simplicity itself. Two players (or two sets of two players in the doubles version) batted a small leather ball with their bare hands against the far wall of the rectangular court, the goal being to return the ball to the wall above the white penalty line before it bounced more than once; when the receiver failed to do so, the other player (or pair of players) was awarded a point. The game was over when one player (or pair of players) attained fifteen points.
Ronnie and Charlie had played three games; he had won the first, Charlie the second, and he the close third, which was a source of some satisfaction since Charlie was a good many years younger than himself. Ronnie thought it an excellent form of exercise, since it involved a great deal of effort running from one side of the court to the other, and from the front to the back, but he wondered about Montgomerie’s claim that it was especially suited for a tropical climate. Sometimes as he ran back and forth in the humid air he felt like he was running through treacle, as if the heavy air in the court slowed his every movement. But he felt invigorated after his victory and a good scrub and ladling in the washroom, and thought it a good tonic for a day at his desk in the office. He and Charlie hired a Tamil boatman to take them across the river, and they went their separate ways when he set them down on Boat Quay.
After a few hours at the offices of Simpson and Co. in Commercial Square, Ronnie took himself across to the Exchange Room to read the newspapers and pick up what news there was from the other merchants. The talk was all about the recent slump in business. The previous year the East India Company had lost its monopoly on the China trade, and the last of the Company Indiamen, with their distinctive black hulls and yellow gun ports, had gone home. The merchants had confidently assumed that the free or ‘country’ traders would pick up their business and continue to use Singapore as an exchange-mart, unloading goods from Europe and India, and reloading with goods bound for China. But many of the free traders were making longer voyages to maximize their profits, and were using the Dutch controlled Strait of Sunda rather than the Strait of Malacca, bypassing Singapore altogether. The volume of imports and exports that passed though the port had dropped from sixteen million to twelve million tons. On top of this Calcutta was threatening to impose a port tax, which would strip Singapore of its distinctive status as a free port, and would further stifle trade.
Ronnie sat down in a comfortable chair in the corner and picked up a copy of the Calcutta Journal. James Guthrie came over and sat down beside him. ‘They’re all doom and gloom, Ronnie, but I’m sure things will pick up as the market grows, as it surely must,’ he said.
‘I hope you’re right,’ Ronnie replied. ‘I’m finding it hard going these days myself.’
Ronnie and Guthrie were in the corner by themselves, and Guthrie leant over and half-whispered to him: ‘I’ve been thinking about your business with the pirates, and the problems they cause us. I’ve also been talking with Bonham, who wants something done about it. He came up with an idea that might interest you. It means attributing rather base motives to our local Malay leadership, and it might involve some danger to your good self. But it might just work.’
‘Tell me more,’ Ronnie said, his interest pricked.
‘I don’t know if you know, but His Highness Sultan Hussein passed away recently in Malacca, and Bonham’s not likely to recognize his son Ali as the new sultan. The boy is only fifteen and all he’s inherited is his father’s debts to the Chettiars. Now, Daing Ibrahim, the temenggong’s son, has been doing quite a decent job of leading his people at Telok Blangah since his father’s death, and…’
‘But he’s almost one o’ them himself!’ Ronnie interrupted. ‘We all know how the pirates get to find out about cargoes and schedules, from that…’
‘Keep your voice down, man,’ Guthrie snapped at him, as some of the other merchants in the room turned their heads towards them. ‘I don’t want everyone to know about this, and I especially don’t want Daing Ibrahim to know about this!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ronnie replied, dropping his voice so that only Guthrie could hear him, ‘but he’s in the thick of it if anyone is.’
I’m sure he is,’ replied Guthrie, ‘but that’s exactly what gives us our opportunity. I’ve got a pretty good feeling he wants to be recognized as temenggong, perhaps even as sultan. We could help him, or we could make life very difficult for him, and we could make him understand that. So I think we could get him to help us with the pirates, and with your man in particular. Of course he’ll never admit that he has connections with them––he’s a wily fox just like his father––but he might be persuaded to use these connections to help us for a change. Certainly worth a try, Ronnie.’
‘Agreed, James,’ Ronnie replied. ‘So let’s gie it a try.’
* * *
The slump in trade was also affecting Tan Hong Chuan, although with Siti’s help and advice, he had weathered the economic downturn better than most. While his ship’s chandlery business suffered as a result of the reduction of shipping in the harbour, his fruit and spice plantations continued to thrive, except for those devoted to nutmeg, coffee and cocoa, which did not seem well suited to the soil and climate. On the positive side, the increase in land values had slowed, which made it a good time to buy––he had sold some of his unproductive plantations and used the money to purchase some choice lots in the Chinese town.
So he was not unduly worried by the slump in trade. He was puzzled by one thing, however. He had noticed that of late there seemed to be fewer dishes for the evening meal, with less meat and fish, and only rarely the special dishes he loved, such as shark’s fin and bird nest soup. He had asked his wife about this, to which she had angrily responded that he ate too much, and that she was only concerned about his health; she did not want him to leave her a widow and their son without the guidance of a father. But her vehement response had seemed disproportionate to her avowed concerns about his health and their son’s welfare, and as the portions got smaller and smaller he got increasingly annoyed. He had enough to worry about, he thought to himself, and needed a good meal at night to sustain him.
He asked Siti what she thought was going on. At first she looked away, and seemed reluctant to discuss the matter. But when he pressed her she eventually told him that Song Neo had been playing cherki and chap ji kee[1] with the other Nonya wives, and had got herself quite deep in debt. She had pawned some of her jewellery to cover her losses, but this had not been enough, so she was now trimming the household budget to stay ahead of her creditors.
Hong Chuan was furious when he heard this news, and asked Siti why she had not warned him about his wife’s behaviour before. Siti replied that as his concubine it was not her place to criticize or to make accusations against his first wife.
‘That will change, and right away, I assure you,’ Hong Chuan replied. ‘I will make you my second wife, as reward for all you have done for me, for which I am truly grateful. I had intended to do this in any case, and should have done it sooner. But as my second wife, I will expect you to keep an eye on Song Neo, and warn me if anything like this happens again.’
Siti thanked Hong Chuan and told him she would be honoured to be his second wife, and would do her duty as second wife to protect the interests of the family.
‘How much does she owe?’ Hong Chuan asked.
‘I’m not sure exactly, but I believe around three or four thousand dollars.’
Hong Chuan sucked in his breath and stood for a moment clenching his fists in anger. Then he ordered one of his servants to summon his wife for a meeting in his study, and to accept no excuses. He also instructed Siti to attend the meeting.
‘What is it you wish to see me about?’ Song Neo asked reproachfully, when she entered his study. ‘And why is she here?’ she continued, indicating Siti with a curt nod of her head.
Hong Chuan told her in a calm and controlled voice that he had learned about her gambling debts. He also told her that he had asked Siti to become his second wife, and that she was going to keep an eye on her behaviour in future. When Song Neo began to protest, Hong Chuan demanded to know the extent of her debts, and his anger returned when she told him she owed a little over five thousand dollars. She promised Hong Chuan she would pay the money back, and would sell the rest of her jewellery if she needed to do so, but Hong Chuan told he to be silent.
‘Song Neo, my first wife, I will forgive you this one time. I will pay off your debts and redeem whatever jewellery you have pawned, so we can rebuild our life together again, for the sake of our son and the honour of our family. In return, I demand that you make a pledge to our ancestors never to gamble again, and never again bring the dishonour of debt upon this house.’
‘I will do as you wish, husband,’ Song Neo replied. ‘I am deeply sorry for what I have done. I was weak, but you have made me strong, and I promise you it will not happen again. But you will surely not deny me the company of my friends or the freedom to go out. I think I would rather die than be imprisoned in this house every day.’
‘You are free to come and go as you wish, my first wife. I accept your promise, and will trust you to remain in charge of the household. But I will also expect to see more of a banquet when I return in the evening.’
Song Neo bowed in respect, and thanked her husband, although her cheeks blushed red from shame and embarrassment.
‘But I also promise you another thing,’ Hong Chuan continued, in a stern voice. ‘If you disobey me, I will not give you a second chance. I will divorce you and disown you. I will place an advertisement in the paper that I am no longer responsible for you or your debts, and you will be put out on the streets to join the other paupers. That I promise you, and I will have Siti watch over you, and report to me at once if you break your promise to me. That is all.’
Song Neo bowed in acknowledgement of Hong Chuan’s command, but as she rose to leave, Siti could see her cheeks were flushed with anger.
Siti immediately recognized how the situation could be worked to her advantage. She knew she had only to aid and encourage Song Neo in her addiction to games of chance, and she could displace her as Hong Chuan’s first wife. But Siti could not do such a thing. Although she had little affection for Mrs Tan, who treated her with lofty disdain, she was her husband’s first wife and the mother of his beloved son, and she knew she owed it to Hong Chuan to do her best by him––he who had given her a life of freedom and happiness. And she felt genuinely sorry for Song Neo. Hong Chuan paid her only perfunctory attention, in the hope of a second son, but she knew there was little affection between them, and that he generally took his pleasure with Siti, both in her body and her company.
She had seen those advertisements in the newspaper in which men disowned their wives and their debts, and had seen the abandoned women in the dark alleys of Cross Street, where the lowest form of prostitutes plied their trade. She shuddered at the thought, and hoped in her heart that everything would work out all right.