In the Mouth of the Tiger (96 page)

Denis had not risen when Nora had joined us. It was quite unlike him, and now he seemed to go out of his way to be unwelcoming. ‘How very unfortunate for some people,' he said unsmilingly. ‘We happen to think Moonlight is ideal.'

‘Of course you don't know the circumstances up here,' Nora persisted. ‘There has been the odd incident, you know. Not at the Fraser & Co. bungalows, but quite close to Tanah Rata. Those bungalows are
very
cut off, Mr Elesmere-Elliott. There is only the one road in, and once you're up there, you're quite cut off and out of touch.'

I could see that Denis was suddenly furious, and laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘While I appreciate your concern, Mrs Warin,' he said coldly. ‘I can assure you I do know perfectly well how to look after my family.'

Nora opened her mouth to say something further but Denis stood up,
forestalling her. ‘Now, I know you will let us get on with our meal,' he said firmly, his hand on the back of her chair. Nora hesitated, but then accepted the inevitable and also rose to her feet.

‘I'm very sorry if you thought I was interfering,' she said stiffly. ‘But I felt I it was my duty to say something.'

‘That wasn't like you at all,' I said to Denis when Nora had left. ‘You were almost rude to the woman. She was only trying to be helpful.'

‘She was being a blasted interfering old biddy!' Denis said, but his good humour had returned. ‘I don't know about you, but I'm rather looking forward to our house in the jungle.' He turned to the children, grinning. ‘Who else is looking forward to Moonlight? Our House in the Jungle?'

George Fortin called around that night, arriving quite late so that we sat in an empty Den, the fire low in the grate. George looked much older, his hair white and his face lined and grey. He had survived the Japanese occupation by living with his wife's family amongst the Chinese market gardeners, only occasionally having to move down the Sakai trails into the Telom Valley when Japanese activity became too intense.

‘Your investment is thriving, Nona,' he said after we had shaken hands. ‘I am planting another five acres this year – there is a growing demand for tea, and it doesn't do any harm to have new plants coming on. Buyers are always keen for the younger leaf.'

‘How is Happy Valley?' I asked, and George smiled. He knew about my love for the valley.

‘Untouched. It's not suitable for tea, of course. And I know how sentimentally attached you are to the place. But you could get ten acres of vegetables in there. It would give you a tidy return in the present market.'

I shook my head. ‘Let's leave Happy Valley as it is. I like to think of it as I saw it as a child. Untouched and beautiful.'

Denis brought a bottle of whisky and three glasses down from our room, and we sat around the embers, talking rather desultorily about this and that. George seemed a little distracted, as if he had something on his mind, and I noticed that he often glanced at Denis before saying anything, as if chary of treading on sensitive ground.

‘How are your sons?' I asked, and George ran his fingers through his thinning silver hair.

‘Typical Young Turks, Nona. Got their fingers in every pie that promises change or adventure.' He seemed about to say something more,
but glanced at Denis and checked himself.

Denis responded to the glance by raising his glass of whisky. ‘To all Young Turks. The world would be a pretty stifling place without them.'

I told George what Nora had said about the Fraser & Co. bungalows. ‘Do you think of them as isolated?' I asked.

‘Oh, not really.' George shot another glance at Denis. ‘I'd stay in the lower one, if I were you. Starlight, isn't it? That way you could give Moonlight warning of anyone coming up the road.'

‘Why would we want to do that?' Denis almost snapped, and George held up his hands apologetically.

‘Instinctive reaction,' he said turning to me. ‘I spent four years staying one jump ahead of the Japs. I've got into the habit of seeing things from a fugitive's point of view.' He laughed rather unconvincingly.

I smiled but couldn't help thinking that what he'd just said was nonsense. He'd talked about protecting
someone else
, not himself. Someone living in Moonlight.

George didn't stay long. He made a rather vague arrangement for us to dine at Burnbrae, and then bade us farewell.

‘He seems . . . distracted,' I said as we wandered up to bed. Denis didn't answer but raised a finger to his lips. We were outside the children's room, and he opened the door gently. The fire was low in the grate (every bedroom had a fireplace at the Smoke House Inn) and the children were draped on cushions around it in their dressing gowns, all fast asleep. Half-eaten chocolate bars, sweet packets and the remains of a cake – no doubt snaffled from the afternoon tea table – attested to a midnight feast.

‘We should get them back to bed,' I said but Denis shook his head.

‘It would spoil everything. The whole fun of a midnight feast is that it's secret. Let's not let them know we caught them out.'

Early the next morning, Denis said something that astounded me. I had been woken by the dawn chorus of the birds and was drifting back to sleep, my mind playing idly with details of our move into Moonlight, when Denis joggled me with his elbow.

‘Are you awake?'

‘I am now,' I said, pretending to be slightly peeved.

‘I've been thinking about what Nora said last night,' Denis said. ‘I think she might have a point after all. Perhaps we should move into Starlight rather than Moonlight. It's just that little bit closer to civilisation.'

It took a moment or two for what he'd said to register, and then I hauled myself onto my elbow and faced him. ‘You must be joking. It's a hundred yards closer, if that.'

‘I'm quite serious. I would be much happier if we were in Starlight.'

I still thought he was pulling my leg and turned on my bedside light to see his face more clearly. ‘You are serious, aren't you?' I said incredulously. ‘Denis, what you're saying just doesn't make sense. Both houses are equally isolated. There's absolutely no difference between them. And anyway, we've told the agent we're moving into Moonlight.'

The lines hardened on Denis's face. ‘I'm sorry, Norma, but I think we should move into Starlight. We'll tell Mrs Prakesh first thing after breakfast. Fortunately there's no harm done in changing our minds . . .'

I was so astounded that I actually got out of bed and stood looking down at the man. ‘It's because of what George Fortin said last night, isn't it?' I demanded. ‘So tell me the truth right now. Who it is that needs protecting at Moonlight?'

Denis was staring back at me and I could see that he was suddenly furious. ‘Don't talk tommy-rot!' he snapped. ‘And for God's sake listen to me. All right, Starlight may only be fractionally closer to Tanah Rata than Moonlight, but it's a bigger house and it has more lawn area for the children to play.' He made a visible effort to calm himself. ‘And I think we'll be happier there.'

I too made an effort to calm myself. ‘If you really do prefer Starlight, then of course we'll take Starlight. But please, Denis, don't treat me like a perfect fool.'

And then it was over. But as I settled back on my pillow I shook my head. It really did seem to me that Denis was becoming a little erratic. Or less than completely frank.

We called in on the Tanglin School after breakfast, to pay our respects to the redoubtable Miss Griff and to show the place to the children. The school was a bit of a disappointment at first sight. I had imagined ivy-clad walls and manicured playing fields, but Tanglin was merely a collection of darkstained timber bungalows set around a gravelled assembly area. Once inside the complex, however, one quickly forgot the modest scale of the buildings. It was morning recess, and healthy-looking pink-cheeked boys and girls were running everywhere. Behind the school, jungle-clad peaks rose up like painted scenery while birds and butterflies danced in the sunlit air.

One could not imagine a better advertisement for the Highlands as a place for growing children.

Miss Griff received us in her spartan office, coming around her desk to sit with us at a low table set with coffee for the grown-ups and glasses of fresh milk for the children. ‘Welcome to your new school,' she said. ‘You two boys will be here at Hopetoun. Frances, you will be going to our kindergarten, which is just on the other side of the valley.' She pointed through the window to a collection of cream buildings just visible through the trees.

Frances pouted. She was at the stage when it was important to match her brothers in everything, and the word ‘kindergarten', with its suggestion of ‘baby school', clearly upset her.

‘Kindergarten!' I said, with as much awe as I could summon up. ‘Is Frances really old enough for kindergarten? I thought she would be far too young.'

Miss Griff caught on immediately. ‘Oh, I think Frances is quite big enough to manage kindergarten. She'll be with some very nice children, too. I understand they have a Teddy Bear Club.' She looked at Frances. ‘Do you have a teddy?'

Frances nodded solemnly. She had a very good teddy indeed, a splendid Chad Valley bear with a little tartan waistcoat.

‘When do we start?' Tony asked, and Miss Griff reached for a calendar. ‘We have a long weekend this weekend,' she said. ‘Why don't you all start on the following Tuesday?'

Bob Stone had prepared a list of students who would be likely to go on to senior school, and Miss Griff handed it over to Denis in a manila folder. ‘I've got over forty names and addresses for you,' she said. ‘Perhaps there will be a few more when the time comes, because some families are still waiting to see if their children have been given places in England. So if your school is up and running next year you will be able to start with two full classes. Do you think you'll be ready for a February start?'

‘We'll do our level best,' Denis said. ‘I've already got a list of places available to rent, and I'll be looking at them over the next few days. There's one in particular that looks quite promising. It's the old manager's place on the Two Hills tea plantation.'

Miss Griff clapped her hands. ‘Something like Two Hills would be ideal,' she said. ‘It's big enough to house boarders, and it's got lovely grounds. I think there's even room for a cricket pitch.'

Denis went out to look at places that afternoon while I took the children for a picnic on the golf course. It was paradise out on the links in the sunshine, with the air crystal clear, and the grass vividly green. As the children ran on the springy turf they seemed healthier already, with colour in their cheeks and a sparkle in their eyes.
Why didn't we come up here sooner?
I asked myself.
This is so much healthier than the lowlands. And this is how it will be in England.

Mrs Prakesh had arranged to take me up to Starlight at four, and we got back to the hotel just as her Oldsmobile rolled into the gravel carpark. Our boxes from the train had already been taken up and so I decided to do some unpacking and sorting out.

I realised exactly what Nora Warin had meant about isolation when Mrs Prakesh and I began moving about the empty house. Starlight was beautiful, but one
did
feel cut off and a little bit alone. Mist was closing in, drifting in ragged banks from the jungle hillsides and draping the ornamental conifers at the front of the house with trailing white shrouds. The electricity had not yet been switched on, so that even though it was still afternoon the inside of the house was already quite dark.

‘It is very quiet,' I said as Mrs Prakesh and I unpacked the linen from a tea chest in the hall. ‘Do you feel any sense of isolation up here?'

Mrs Prakesh shrugged. ‘Some people like the quietness. Others don't. For myself, I would love to live here. I am living with my husband's people in a flat in Ringlet. There are six of us in the flat, and all I hear day in and day out is natter, natter, natter. I would give my right arm to live up here.' Mrs Prakesh was a big, competent, practical woman and I don't think she had an imaginative bone in her body.

We worked for an hour, and then it was too dark to see anything. We locked up carefully and were making our way to the car when I had the shock of my life. There was a figure standing beside the car, a dark shape that seemed to melt into the mist even as I looked at it.

‘Who the devil was that?' I asked, my voice not quite as steady as I would have liked.

‘Only a Sakai,' Mrs Prakesh said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘They sometimes come up to have a look at who is moving in. They will not bother you at all. You probably won't see any more of them, now that they know you are here.'

‘They would be Temiar,' I said softly, ‘from one of the settlements down on the Telom River.'

Denis didn't seem at all surprised when I told him at dinner about seeing the Temiar. ‘No doubt one of Krani Hondai's people,' he said. ‘They look after the trails this side of Batu Brinchang. I believe one of the trails comes out of the jungle just behind Starlight.'

‘Do you think we could make contact with them?' I asked.

Denis shook his head. ‘I don't think we should. If old Krani Hondai finds out we're up at Starlight, he'll batten on us for anything he needs.' It was unlike Denis to be negative like that but I didn't press the issue.

We moved into Starlight the next day. Denis had taken on a cook and an amah recommended by Gordon Fortin to look after us, and they were already ensconced when we arrived. Ah Khow met us at the front door, a tall, thin, vaguely aristocratic man who bowed politely to all of us in turn. ‘Tabek, Tuan,' he said to Denis finally. ‘Amah is scrubbing the upstairs bathrooms, but she would want me to welcome you all on her behalf.'