‘Sounds intriguing! Come round for a drink when you’re back, I’ve got something to share with you, too.’ She texted back, making a plan to go round when she got home. She was curious to find out what was on Jenny’s mind.
It felt strange going home to a cold, dark and empty house that evening. Annabel put the lights on and boiled the kettle for a cup of tea. She sighed as she took in the state of the kitchen; Luke had many qualities, she reminded herself, but he did not keep a tidy house. She turned on the radio and started removing the dirty dishes from the sink, stacking them neatly in the dishwasher instead. She added a bar of detergent and was about to press the start button on the machine when she spotted the used wine glasses. Two wine glasses. And one had a telltale red lipstick mark on it.
Annabel’s stomach sank and a shiver of unease ran through her as she went upstairs. The bedroom was a mess, the bed still unmade with the duvet in a tangled heap. Tears pricked as she saw the dent in her pillow where another woman’s head had lain. Instinctively, she picked up the duvet and shook it out to straighten it. That was when she saw the bright pink thong hidden in the bed sheets. The unease turned into anger. How dare he?
Annabel sighed as she went downstairs again, a heavy weight pressing on her heart. For some time she had been fooling herself, she realised. It was time to take matters into her own hands and make a decision about her future without Luke.
CHAPTER 9
Singapore
June 1938
After a restless night of unfamiliar noises in her new surroundings, Dorothy woke to see Ah Ling bringing her a glass of chilled water. For a moment, she forgot where she was and was puzzled by the gentle, Chinese face. She soon recovered herself and gave the maid a thankful smile. The night was over and it was a new day, with new adventures ahead. She gulped down the water, got out of bed and stretched.
Dorothy was expecting to see gloomy, grey clouds after the previous night’s downpour, but the storm had blown over. She opened the shutters and looked out at a perfect blue sky. The garden had been rejuvenated by the rain and everything bloomed in a deep, lush green. It was all so beautiful.
‘Good morning, darling!’ her mother called up to her from the garden below, where she was eating breakfast with her husband. ‘Morning, Dodo!’ her father echoed. They were sitting at a table in the shade of the trees, her mother in a thin cotton house robe and her father ready for work in a smart, light cream suit.
‘Do come and join us, it’s lovely out here!’ Dorothy was pleased to see her mother refreshed and back to her usual cheerful form. ‘There’s fresh pineapple juice, bacon and eggs, coffee and even toast and marmalade!’
The mention of breakfast made Dorothy’s stomach rumble, so she quickly washed, using the jug and basin that Ah Ling had brought up for her, put on a loose cotton dress and went down to join her parents.
Later that morning, Mr Kent arrived to take her father, Anthony, to visit the McKinley’s office and meet the staff. ‘Nothing too strenuous,’ he had assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Just a quick social call to introduce you to a few of the troops – they’re all dying to meet you – then we’ll have lunch at the club and we’ll have you back here in time for a mid-afternoon siesta!’
Once the men had left, Olivia sat down with the cook and the housemaids to discuss the family’s routines and meal preferences. Dorothy took herself off to sort out her room. The family had never had servants before and it felt strange that the housemaids, Ah Ling and Mei Mei, had unpacked her trunk for her. They’d had Mrs Collins the char lady who had come to their house in Fulham three mornings a week, but having live-in staff, who were on hand to anticipate and meet their every need, was quite different.
Her clothes had been hung in the large wooden wardrobe or folded and placed neatly in the chest of drawers beside the bed. In the bottom drawer, she found what she was looking for: a fabric bundle tied with string. She unwrapped it and took out three silver photo frames. Relieved that the glass had survived the journey, she stood all three on the bookcase by the window.
The first frame showed a family portrait, taken just before they had set sail for Singapore. She smiled as she looked at her brother Thomas’s uncomfortable expression and remembered how he had complained that his tie was strangling him. Shemissed having him around and felt a bit left behind, ever since he had left home and headed off to university. The siblings had always been close and she looked forward to him coming out to visit.
The second photograph was of her parents on their wedding day, outside All Saints Church in Fulham. They looked so young and carefree and it always warmed Dorothy’s heart to see the pure joy on their faces. The third picture was of her and her best friend Daisy. They were on the beach at Eastbourne, wearing their bathing suits and laughing at something the photographer – Daisy’s father – had said. It was one of many outings the friends had shared. Dorothy found it strange that, for the first time in her entire life, she was embarking on this new adventure alone, unable to share it with her best friend.
She was still holding the photo, her eyes misty as a wave of homesickness came over her, when she felt a presence beside her. She looked up into the kind face of Ah Ling. It was hard to gauge how old the housemaid was, but Dorothy estimated she was a few years older than herself, probably in her early twenties.
‘Oh Miss, you sad? What you need?’ she asked, her soft voice full of concern.
Dorothy managed a watery smile and wiped her eyes. ‘It’s OK, Ah Ling, I’m just a little homesick.’
Ah Ling pointed to the photo and smiled. ‘Your sister, Miss?’
‘No, I don’t have a sister, just a brother.’ She pointed to the picture of Thomas. Then she pointed to Daisy. ‘This is Daisy, my best friend, but I suppose she is like a sister to me. She’s back in England and I miss her.’
‘Ah, I understand, Miss. I also miss my brother. He in Hainan, China. All my family there.’ She put a hand on her heart, as ifto indicate that a part of it remained there with them. ‘You be alright, Miss. You make new friends and everything be tip top.’
Dorothy smiled at the unlikely expression, presumably picked up from Ah Ling’s previous employers. The housemaid smiled back and reached down to touch Dorothy on the shoulder. Feeling grateful for the silent gesture of support, Dorothy covered Ah Ling’s hand with her own. And in that moment, with that kind touch, a bond was formed.
A few hours later, Dorothy was enjoying an afternoon nap beneath the whirr of her bedroom ceiling fan when her mother woke her. Her voice brimmed with excitement as she told her daughter that Marion Davies had called again, this time issuing an invitation.
‘They’re taking us to the Raffles Hotel for dinner tomorrow night, darling! The whole family is going, so you can spend time with Clara and meet her cousin, Matthew, as well. He’s staying with them for a while, apparently. I think Clara will be a good friend for you, she can show you around and help you meet the right sort of people.’
‘That sounds lovely, Mummy, but what on earth am I going to wear?’ Dorothy’s face fell. ‘None of the frocks I brought with me will be suitable, they’ll all be far too hot!’
‘Don’t worry about that, darling,’ her mother said, fanning her face at the mere mention of the heat, ‘I asked Marion where we could find something and she recommended John Little department store in Raffles Place. Apparently, it’s very popular among the British community and reasonably priced. They have tailors and dressmakers there, even a silverware department and a beauty salon, would you believe! Anyway, chop chop,’ she continued, patting her daughter’s leg. ‘Yourfather will be home soon and we should be downstairs to welcome him.’
Later that afternoon, once her father was home from a successful visit to his new office, Dorothy and her mother set off in the black family sedan, their syce was a gentle, middle-aged man and his English was excellent. Encouraged by Dorothy, he was happy to play tour guide and tell them about the interesting things they passed. They left the lush tranquillity of Nassim Road and drove along the bustling Orchard Road, before eventually arriving in Raffles Place.
Named after Singapore’s ‘founding father’, according to Amir, Raffles Place was the city’s commercial and banking centre. Lines of European-style buildings made up two sides of the square, dominated by the imposing facades of the Mercantile Bank at one end and the Chartered Bank Chambers, with its striking dome, at the other. The centre of the square was lined with parked cars and rickshaw drivers waiting for customers. It was a busy spot, with all different kinds of people going about their business.
